She couldn’t have felt more out of place. As Swartz directed her to one of the couches, she imagined she looked as ragged as she felt, dressed in faded jeans, tennis shoes, and wrinkled sweatshirt.
He sat across from her, all business. She watched patiently as he set his briefcase on the coffee table between them and removed a thick file. Her name was typed neatly in one corner. “So…” He flipped the file open. “Here we are.”
“Do I start by telling you I’m not guilty?”
“No.” He shut the file. “I start by telling you,” he said, as he threw the folder into the wastebasket beside his seat, “that I know for a fact you’re innocent.”
“Yeah, but…” Ryden paused when she realized what he’d just said. “You what?”
He unbuttoned his blazer and loosened his tie. “Let me start from the beginning. Please refrain from dramatic reactions and spontaneous sentiments until I’m done and you’ve taken a few moments to grasp the situation.”
She sat back, flabbergasted. Did this man know who the murderer was? Could he be her get-out-of-jail card? “I’m listening.”
“I know for a fact you didn’t kill the Laudens, because I know who did.”
She jumped up. “That means you can tell—”
He raised his hand to stop her. “Please, Ms. Wagner. Sit down.”
Ryden smiled, feeling almost giddy. “Sorry.”
“This individual killed the Laudens to set you up. The killer was hired to make you look guilty.”
It took several seconds for her to absorb what he was saying. “Why?” She tried to remain calm so he wouldn’t tell her to stop asking questions.
“You were made to look guilty because someone wants you to work for them. This person, however, requires discretion, dedication, and complete cooperation.”
“Two innocent people were killed.”
He shrugged. “It’s unfortunate, but—”
“But? There’s actually a but?” She didn’t know whether she should feel terrified at the power of whoever was responsible or disgusted. “What kind of people are you?”
“When my client wants something, my client gets it.”
“You lost me. All this is because of a job offer? Couldn’t they just ask?”
He sighed. “Please refrain from commentary and try to concentrate on what I’m saying.”
“Fine.”
“Have you ever heard of doubles?” he asked. “People so impossible to tell apart you can’t distinguish the difference? So identical they can be used as decoys?”
Was he being rhetorical now? What the hell was he going on about? Doubles, decoys…what was next, unicorns? This conversation was making less sense by the second. She hesitated, not knowing whether she should answer.
“Do you understand my question?”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot. I just didn’t know if I was allowed to answer.” She bit back her irritation at being spoken to like a child.
“And?” he asked patiently.
“I get TiVo. I know some VIPs use them.”
“Indeed.” He smiled and leaned forward, watching her reaction. “My client wants you to double someone.”
Ryden got to her feet. “Let me see if I understand you correctly. Two people died, and I was set up for these murders…” She started to pace. “By someone who wants me to impersonate somebody?” She turned to him. “Do you have any idea how absurd this all sounds?”
“I’m not done.” He gestured toward the couch.
“No, I have no interest in sitting down. As a matter of fact, I have no interest in any of this. I don’t see how I, of all people, ever got involved in this weird-ass conspiracy. I want you to pick up that phone and tell the police what you know, and then I want to go home and forget this past week ever happened,” she shouted.
“That’s not an option,” he replied evenly. “Not one you want to entertain, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Should you refuse to cooperate, not only will I make sure you go to jail, I will also provide eyewitnesses before the grand jury. Witnesses who will seal your fate and make sure your lengthy life in prison is ended only by a lethal injection.”
“What witnesses?”
“There’s the one who saw you wining and dining with Mr. Lauden, another who saw you leave his home early in the morning in a condition of dishevelment—postcoital state, if you will—and yet another who’ll testify he saw the victim welcome you at the door the night of the murder.”
“Lies. All lies.” She paced some more and paused by his desk. Ryden couldn’t stand unfairness. She didn’t know whether to cry or throw Swartz’s heavy paperweight at his head; she wanted to do both. She just wasn’t sure about the order. She pulled her hair instead. “Why me?” she yelled.
“I already told you why. You fit what my client needs. Although, after having met you…” He looked her up and down like she was a leper. “I honestly don’t see the connection. That aside, should you agree to these conditions, and after of course you complete your…term with my client, you’ll no longer have to worry about prison.”
“Who the hell is your…client? Let me talk to him.”
“You might as well ask to speak to God.”
“So, if I refuse to do this, I go to jail.”
“The death sentence.” He sounded satisfied.
“What will I have to do?”
“Once you agree to the terms,” he replied, “you will be further instructed on what is required of you.”
“Who am I supposed to double?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that. You must understand, this is all highly confidential. So much so, even I don’t know the details.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
“All decoys must take certain risks. It’s why they exist, after all. But I can assure you, any dangers this job might involve pale compared to those of top-security prisons. And I can guarantee you, you will be sent to the worst there is.”
“How long will I have to be this…this double?”
“It’s my understanding it won’t be longer than six months.”
She started to pace again. What were the chances this was all a bad joke, or a case of mistaken identity? Yeah, that’s it. A spark of hope ignited. “Are you sure you have the right—”
“Yes.”
“But I’m a nobody.”
He nodded. “You are.”
“But I don’t even—”
“Ms. Wagner, I need an answer. Are you going to work for my client, or are you going to spend the rest of your shortened life in prison?”
Ryden sat back on the couch. Life in prison and the death sentence, or six months of being an impersonator. Were those really her only choices? “How do you know I won’t run? Or—”
“Should you be foolish enough to breach contract, reveal your real identity, or do anything contrary to your duties, you will be terminated.”
“Fired?”
“Killed.”
“What?” she yelled.
“It’s still the better option. Maybe you haven’t quite grasped the severity of your situation, Ms. Wagner, but you are already the proverbial dead man walking. Whereas, if you take the job and do as instructed, you’ll be free to start a new life.”
“New life?”
“The grand jury will most certainly indict you, probably within the next few weeks. But the work will necessitate that you be unavailable for your trial, so you’ll be a wanted fugitive. My client will provide you with a new identity and a quarter of a million dollars so you can relocate wherever you want.”
She let the figure sink in. Money had never been a priority, but if doing this meant she would be on the run from the law, she’d need the help to disappear. “I don’t know if I can do this. What if I can’t?”