the Third Twin (1996)

Lorraine gave a small scream.

“I think he was aiming over my head. Anyway, I’m fine.”

Jeannie’s mouth went dry. The thought of bullets being fired at Steve horrified her. He might have died!

“The sweep worked, though.” Steve took a diskette from his back pocket. “Here’s the list. And wait till you hear what’s on it.”

Jeannie swallowed hard. “What?” “There aren’t four clones.” “How come?” “There are eight.”

Jeannie’s jaw dropped. “Eight of you?”

“We found eight identical electrocardiograms.”

Genetico had split the embryo seven times and implanted eight unknowing women with the children of strangers. The arrogance was unbelievable.

But Jeannie’s suspicion had been proved. This was what Berrington was so desperate to conceal. When this news was made public, Genetico would be disgraced and Jeannie would be vindicated.

And Steve would be cleared.

“You did it!” she said. She hugged him. Then a snag occurred to her. “But which of the eight committed the rape?”

“We’ll have to find out,” Steve said. “And that won’t be easy. The addresses we have are the places where their parents lived at the time they were born. They’re almost certainly out-of-date.”

“We can try to track them down. That’s Lisa’s specialty.” Jeannie stood up. “I’d better get back to Baltimore. This is going to take most of the night.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“What about your father? You have to get him out of the hands of the military police.”

Lorraine said: “You’re needed here, Steve. I’m going to call our lawyer right now—I have his home number—but you’ll have to tell him what happened.”

“All right,” he said reluctantly.

“I should call Lisa before I leave, so she can get ready,” Jeannie said. The phone was on the patio table. “May I?”

“Of course.”

She dialed Lisa’s number. The phone rang four times, then there was the characteristic pause of an answering machine kicking in. “Damn,” Jeannie said as she listened to Lisa’s message. When it finished she said: “Lisa, please call me. I’m leaving Washington now, I’ll be home around ten. Something really important has happened.” She hung up.

Steve said: “I’ll walk you to your car.”

She said good-bye to Lorraine, who hugged her warmly.

Outside, Steve handed her the diskette. “Take care of that,” he said. “There’s no copy, and we won’t get another chance.”

She put it in her bag. “Don’t worry. It’s my future, too.” She kissed him hard.

“Oh, boy,” he said after a while. “Could we do a lot of this, quite soon?”

“Yes. But don’t endanger yourself meanwhile. I don’t want to lose you. Be careful.”

He smiled. “I love it that you’re worried about me. It’s almost worth it.”

She kissed him again, softly this time. “I’ll call you.”

She got in the car and pulled away.

She drove fast and got home in under an hour.

She was disappointed to find there was no message from Lisa on her machine. She worried that maybe Lisa was asleep, or watching TV and not listening to her messages. Don’t panic, think. She ran out again and drove to Lisa’s place, an apartment building in Charles Village. She rang the entry phone at the street door, but there was no answer. Where the hell had Lisa gone? She did not have a boyfriend to take her out on a Saturday night. Please God she hasn’t gone to see her mother in Pittsburgh.

Lisa lived in 12B. Jeannie rang the bell of 12A. Again there was no reply. Maybe the damn system was not working. Seething with frustration, she tried 12C.

A grouchy male voice said: “Yeah, who is it?”

“I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’m a friend of Lisa Hoxton next door to you and I need to reach her really urgently. Would you happen to know where she is?”

The voice replied: “Where do you think you are, lady—Hicksville, USA? I don’t even know what my neighbor looks like.” Click.

“Where are you from, New York?” she said angrily to the unheeding loudspeaker.

She went home, driving as if she were in a race, and called Lisa’s answering machine again. “Lisa, please call me the second you get in, no matter what time of night. I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

After that there was no more she could do. Without Lisa she could not even get into Nut House.

She took a shower and wrapped herself in her pink bathrobe. She felt hungry and microwaved a frozen cinnamon bun, but eating nauseated her, so she threw it away and drank coffee with milk in it. She wished she had a TV to distract her.

She got out the picture Charles had given her of Steve. She would have to get a frame for it. She stuck it to the refrigerator door with a fridge magnet.

That started her looking at her photograph albums. She smiled to see Daddy in a brown chalk-stripe suit with broad lapels and flared pants, standing beside the turquoise Thunder-bird. There were several pages of Jeannie in tennis whites, triumphantly holding a series of silver cups and plaques. Here was Mom pushing Patty in an old-fashioned stroller, there was Will Temple in a cowboy hat, cutting up and making Jeannie laugh—