My jaw fell and I stared at her. Helena Sanchez?
Watson flashed his badge. “Good morning. I’m Detective Sam Watson of the Nags Head Police. Are you Mrs. Tina Ledbetter?”
“I am.” The woman’s dark eyes studied me. I closed my mouth and gave her a feeble smile. Not Ms. Sanchez, but a darn good imitation. The skin was less lined, the lips not quite so thin, the hair slightly darker, but the face was so very much like her, and she was almost the exact size as the dead woman. A sister for sure. Probably a twin. Even the eyeglasses were the same as Helena Sanchez had worn.
“May we come in?” Watson said.
She stepped back. “You’re here about Helena?”
I followed Watson into the house. The front door opened onto a small foyer containing nothing but a pair of sneakers, standing side by side on a rubber mat, and a yellow raincoat hanging on a hook. I could see into the living room beyond. The furniture was cheap, faded, and dated, but the place was spotlessly clean.
“Perhaps you should take a seat,” Watson said.
Mrs. Ledbetter didn’t move. “No need. You’ve come to tell me my sister is dead. I’m aware of that.” The woman’s face showed no emotion.
“Do you mind my asking how you know?”
“I don’t mind at all. I dreamt last night of dark water and tangled gray hair drifting in the weeds.”
I sucked in a breath, and the woman looked at me for the first time. “You were there,” she said. It was not a question.
“I … I …”
“What’s your relationship with Helena Sanchez?” Watson asked.
“She’s my identical twin sister. She’s here for a short visit. I don’t know why. We haven’t seen each other for years and I was surprised when I got her e-mail asking me … telling me … she planned to stay with me while she was in town. How’d she die?”
“She was found in the marsh near the lighthouse.”
Mrs. Ledbetter nodded.
“You seem to have some knowledge of that fact.”
“As I said, I saw it. I dreamt it. Do you have a twin, Detective?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Then you can’t understand. There was a bond between my sister and me that nothing could break. Even though we might have wanted it to. When she departed this life, I knew it. If I had gone first, she would have seen it and known. Thank you for coming to give me the news.” She opened the door.
“You called the hospital looking for her?” I asked. Watson had told me not to say anything, to let him do the talking, but I couldn’t help myself. The words burst out all on their own.
Although he probably wouldn’t see it that way.
He said nothing.
“I didn’t know if she’d been found,” Mrs. Ledbetter said.
“What do you mean when you say you might not have wanted these bonds between you?” Watson asked.
“I assume you want the truth, so I’ll give it to you. We couldn’t stand each other, Detective. Over the course of her entire life, I don’t think Helena ever gave a thought to anyone else. What Helena wanted is what Helena wanted. And what Helena wanted is what Helena usually got. For some reason she convinced our parents that she was the golden twin, and I was the devil incarnate.”
“Yet you invited her to stay with you on this visit. Or didn’t refuse her at any rate.”
Mrs. Ledbetter stared at Sam Watson over the top of her glasses with such intensity he actually looked away. “She was my sister,” she said at last. “Of course she stayed with me.”
“Why did she come back to Nags Head? Was she hoping to repair her relationship with you?”
“Repair it?” Mrs. Ledbetter snorted. “Our father died when we were in high school, and our mother moved to Raleigh about twenty years ago. Mother died last month.”
“My condolences,” Watson said. I muttered something sympathetic.
“On Father’s death, Mother had her will written by a Nags Head lawyer. Helena was in town this week to make sure she got her share in case there’s any dispute over the contents of that will.”
“Is there likely to be?” Watson asked.
“Dispute? Not a dispute, no. Helena’s share, in her eyes, would be nothing less than the entire amount. Our mother was a weak and foolish woman. She did whatever Helena told her to do. We were never close.”
“When did you last see your mother?” Watson said.
“Twenty years ago. The day she left for Raleigh. I was in town doing my shopping and saw her drive past. I don’t know if she saw me or not, but she did not acknowledge me.”
Not close was an understatement.
“Did you … uh … have a warning of your mother’s death?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Why would I? I found out about it from the lawyer. I did my duty and went to the funeral. It was a sad affair. Rained steadily all day. Her church put on a dreary lunch of overly sweet tea and dried-up sandwiches.”
“Was Helena there?”
“Oh yes. Standing under an umbrella. She wasn’t aging well, I thought.” Mrs. Ledbetter let out a bark of laughter. “She’s stopped aging now, hasn’t she? We exchanged air kisses and lied about how we’d missed each other. We also lied when we told the church ladies the tea was excellent.”
“You had no plans to dispute your mother’s will?”
Mrs. Ledbetter grinned at Detective Watson. Her teeth were small and closely crowded together. “No. Looks like now I’ll get it all, won’t I? Serves them right.”
“What were you doing yesterday evening?” he asked.
“Not out killing my sister—or anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking. But if my word’s not enough for you and you insist on the details … I’d been at a movie and
