Dead Ringer

money!” she heard herself say.

“Fifty cents a page, I’ll say,” the messenger agreed.

Bennie had the complaint photocopied, returned the file, left the courthouse, and stormed rather than walked all the way back to the office. She couldn’t shake her terrible mood. It was another unseasonably warm day but she didn’t notice. She hadn’t eaten but she wasn’t hungry. She reached her office building full of steam, worry, and purpose, but all of it vanished when she stepped off the elevator.

And realized what was happening.

7

Near the wall in the reception area, two workmen in the navy blue jumpsuits of the building-management company were posting an eviction notice of a color Bennie hadn’t yet seen. White. Laser-printed. No-nonsense. Eek. Bennie hurried to the workmen as the associates rushed her like abandoned baby birds.

“Boss!” Carrier said, almost tripping over a new delivery from J. Crew. “They say they’re evicting us! We have to get out in thirty days.”

DiNunzio had paled as white as her oxford shirt. “They can’t do this, can they?”

“Of course not.” Murphy folded her arms, seething in a manner perfected by redheads. “I told them they’d be in deep shit when you got back.”

“Step aside, girls,” Bennie said, coming through. Marshall was already on the phone at the reception desk; she probably already had Dale on the line. This was definitely a mistake. Maybe he hadn’t gotten her check, or maybe these guys didn’t know he’d gotten it.

“Yo, guys,” Bennie said to the workmen. One name patch read GUS and the other, VINCENT, but she didn’t need the prompting. She had known them since she’d moved her office here. “Gus, what the hell’s going on?”

“Sorry, Bennie,” he answered, keeping his head turned away. He was heavyset and looked like a chubby baby in his jumpsuit. His thick hand grasped a ring of gray duct tape. “Believe it or not, this is harder for us than for you.”

“We’re just doin’ our jobs, Ben.” Vincent was duct-taping the bottom edge of the eviction notice to the wall. “We got no choice in this matter, you know that.”

“Listen, guys, I swear, I sent Dale a check by FedEx. I even paid extra for Saturday delivery. Maybe he didn’t get it, maybe something went wrong, I don’t know. I’ll call him and he’ll tell you, so you can save your duct tape.”

“I don’t think so,” Gus said, his tone flat. “They took this outta Dale’s hands. This comes from the cheese. He tole us this morning, go out and get it done.”

“And don’t let you talk us out of it.” Vincent was twisting off the end of the duct tape with difficulty. He turned to Gus. “Gimme the X-Acto knife.”

“I don’t got it. I thought you brought it.”

“I thought you brought it. Just rip it, stupid.”

“Okay,” Vincent said, and did. “Sorry, Bennie. You’re a great lady, you know that. We all wish you lotsa luck, and the girls, too.” He nodded at the associates, looking away from a wet-eyed Mary DiNunzio. The workmen left quickly for the elevator and caught the next cab.

Bennie confronted the eviction notice taped to the wall of the reception area. Her reception area. She had painted it with her own hands. Picked the pictures. Bought the furniture. She had even sanded the goddamn floor. This office was her second home, and getting thrown out was unthinkable. Bennie grabbed the eviction notice at the top and ripped it down with a satisfying shzipp. “I may not know art, ladies. But I know what I like!”

“Yeah!” Murphy cheered, and Carrier clapped and hooted beside her. Only Mary looked worried still, her young forehead prematurely creased. For her benefit, Bennie plastered a grin on her face and wadded the notice and duct tape into a ball.

“Don’t worry, DiNunzio,” Bennie said. “We’ll have this fixed up in no time.”

Marshall had hung up the phone and was waddling hurriedly toward them through the box maze, biting her lip. She held a notepad in her hand. “Dale said he’s really sorry but the management wouldn’t go for the partial payment.”

“No problem,” Bennie said, gritting her teeth. Just then an inconvenient ping emanated from the elevator bank, and she straightened up instantly. It wasn’t eleven o’clock yet. It couldn’t be St. Amien. The lawyers snapped to jittery attention, and Marshall looked toward the elevators. It was their good- looking UPS man in his jaunty brown shorts, carrying a large box that read FRAGILE-WATERFORD CRYSTAL.

“Another delivery, Bennie!” he called out, then set down the box on the other boxes and left with a quick wave. It would have been funny, but Bennie couldn’t find her smile. Another package, another fake charge. Her credit, a mess. Her wallet, stolen. And her reputation with the judges, ruined. She suddenly knew in her heart what she had been denying all morning. She announced:

“Alice Connelly is back in town, ladies.”

DiNunzio groaned, and Carrier’s Delft blue eyes flared in alarm. Only Murphy cocked her head, puzzled. “Alice who?”

“Alice Connelly, my twin sister.” Bennie paused to collect her thoughts. Her heart hammered against her chest wall. Now that she’d said it, it had become real. “Everybody here except you, Murphy, will remember Alice from that case that we had. She found me-aided and abetted by my wayward father-and asked me to defend her on a murder charge. After it, she did a disappearing act, which apparently runs in my family.”

Murphy’s green eyes narrowed. Carrier was nodding, and DiNunzio bit her lower lip. Marshall eased onto the L.L. Bean box, her hand protectively on her tummy, and Bennie continued.

“Alice was given up for adoption when we were born, and I didn’t know about her until we met as adults. We’re identical-at least we look that way. I haven’t heard a word from her in two years, since I dropped her off at the train station.” Bennie flinched at the memory. She had thought about Alice in the intervening years, with more frequency than she could explain. She’d even tried to find her once, to no avail.

“I thought she’d left Philly for good, but I think she’s come back. I think she stole my wallet and ordered all this stuff to jerk my chain, like Marshall said.” Bennie’s thoughts raced ahead. Suddenly the crazy events of the past few days were making a twisted sort of sense. “There’s two of everything, get it? Twins. And I bet she made me look bad to the judges, too. She must have followed me from the office, maybe even pretended to be me in the Chinese restaurant.”

“Your twin sister would do that to you?” Murphy asked, astonished.

“This is no ordinary sister,” Mary told her. “And no ordinary twin.” She sank to the box beside a silent Marshall as Murphy shook her glossy head.

“Whoa. This is so Port Charles.”

Carrier frowned. “What do you mean, made you look bad to the judges?”

Bennie hadn’t told them yet. “Half the Eastern District bench, including Judge Sherman, who picked up St. Amien’s case, thinks I was drunk in the restaurant last night.”

“Well, were you?” Carrier asked, and DiNunzio nodded with sympathy.

“It’s no crime if you had a drink or two, Bennie. You’ve been under a lot of strain lately. You keep it all inside-”

“What?” Bennie looked at them, incredulous. “It wasn’t me. I was barely drinking. It had to have been Alice.” But if they were doubting her, everybody would. Bennie put it together, and the gravity of her predicament dawned fully. Anger bubbled like lifeblood to her cheeks. She snatched up the phone and punched in the number for information. “In the Philadelphia area, the listing for Alice Connelly, please.”

Carrier watched. “She won’t be listed.”

“I know,” Bennie said, and when she got the answer they both expected, she thanked the operator and hung up. “We have to find her. Carrier, I have to get ready for St. Amien, so can you run a computer check on Alice? I want to see if she’s back in town, and where she is. Call Lou, too.” Lou Jacobs was their veteran investigator, home