You close your eyes and scratch an eyebrow. "Yeah, alright, then maybe we can talk about maybe letting you make a change," you sigh. "Or maybe we can get this case polished off tonight and you won't have to worry about it anymore."
Will gapes. "You got a break?"
"Maybe. Sawyer Harrison. Who was with him when he went into that coma?"
Will looks at you warily. "Taylor Mitchell. You know that. That's what the police reports said."
"And what did Belinda Harrison say when you talked to her?"
"Same thing. You know that too." You cock an eyebrow, and his mouth twists up. "What?"
"Did she say 'Taylor Mitchell' or did you just assume she said it because you were paying more attention to her ah-woo-gahs--" you mime cupping some big breasts--"than to her words?"
Will turns a bright red. "Fuck you."
"Yeah, okay, I know what it's like." You drop onto the couch with a sigh. "I was looking at her today through these things--" You point to your eyeballs. "And I did wake up with your erection this morning--"
He punches you hard in the balls. "I see you didn't pick up my prodigiously fast reflexes," he snorts as you hunch over with a gasp. "If Frank had tried to cock punch me that way, I'da been in the back yard before his fist was halfway there."
"Okay," you gasp out. "Would it make you feel better if I told you it was a lovely erection that left me feeling inadequate at the memory of what I used to have?"
"Depends on what you did with it. I'll tell you that I did a full immersion Will Prescott act today, and that included--"
"Lalalala, I don't wanna hear it. Will you stop being mean to me if I stop being mean to you?"
Will nods curtly.
"Good. Okay, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, because I don't actually remember what Belinda said when you first talked to her. And besides, it only came out today when she started talking about lawyers."
Will blinks. "No wonder Frank always hated my reports. Apparently I never made any sense."
You sigh. "Sawyer got fired from Salopek," you say, speaking slowly. "They said he was drinking on the job. His parents think maybe he was accidentally huffing toxic fumes. They're thinking of suing. They talked to a lawyer, Belinda told me today, and the lawyer pointed out that Salopek would blame it on whatever Sawyer was doing at Eastman the day he fell into the coma. That make sense?"
"Yeah, I've watched a couple of Law and Order marathons." He rolls his eyes.
"Well, that would not actually displease Sawyer's parents. You see, they've never liked the police reports. Sawyer's friends weren't really very clear in those reports about what they were doing that afternoon. Sawyer's parents can't get the kids to go on the record, under oath and cross-examination. But if they sued Salopek, then Salopek, to defend itself, would put them under oath and cross-examination."
Will's brow crinkles. "Who are these friends? And the word should be 'friend', not plural, 'cos Taylor Mitchell was the only one with Sawyer. And they can't cross-examine him because he's dead."
"You think Sawyer's parents don't know that?"
Will's eyes pop. "You're saying--?"
"Taylor Mitchell wasn't the only one there. Scott Bickelmeier was there too. It's not in the police reports, because he took off before the paramedics arrived, and when the paramedics were questioning Taylor at the scene, he apparently covered it up to protect his friend."
"But Belinda and her parents know about him? How?"
"Because a few weeks after the accident, Scott Bickelmeier made a special trip to see Belinda, to express his condolences. He told her that he'd been there too, and that he was really sorry. But--" You grimace. "He's not real inclined to go into details on what they were doing when Sawyer had his accident."
Will lets out a low whistle.
"And that ain't all," you continue, and rise from the couch to fetch the yearbook you'd been studying in the kitchen. "There's another twist. Take a look at this,"
you say as you open the page you bookmarked. "It's from their junior year. What do you see?"
He sucks in a sharp breath. "I see a guy who's supposed to be dead. I also see another guy who looks just like him. Sean, huh?" He taps the page. "I didn't know--"
"Yeah, Taylor had a twin brother. So what do we know?" You lean back and clasp your hands behind your head.
"Bare evidence, shorn of theorizing?" Will says. He pulls at his lip and stares hard at the wall behind you for a solid minute before speaking.
"Okay, Sawyer Harrison, Scott Bickelmeier, and one of the Mitchell twins were at Eastman when Sawyer fell into a coma," he says. "Scott runs off before the paramedics get there, leaving Mitchell to take the fall. Then Mitchell has a fatal accident. Everyone says Taylor Mitchell--the one on record as being with Sawyer--was the twin who died. This has the very convenient consequence of leaving no witnesses to Sawyer's accident to be questioned." He sucks on his lip. "Then Scott and Sean-- No, wait-- Then Scott and the remaining Mitchell twin move to Westside."
You suppress a wince as he cocks his head. Joe is as sharp as ever, but the act of thinking looks very painful on Will Prescott's face. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" he asks.
"You tell me, because we're thinking with the same pair of brains."
"Well, in that case you're not suggesting anything. You're only pointing out that the world thinks Taylor Mitchell died, but that the world still contains someone who looks an awful lot like Taylor Mitchell."
"Evidence that is consistent with the death of Taylor Mitchell and the survival of Sean Mitchell," you say. "Which is what everyone has been theorizing. But it is also--"
"It's also evidence consistent with the death of Sean Mitchell," he says for you, "and with the survival of Taylor Mitchell, who is now conveniently claiming to be the Mitchell twin who wasn't with Sawyer at the time of his accident." He looks up at you keenly. "That's a real cynical hypothesis."
You shrug. "We don't have to give it that coloration. Suppose it was Sean who died, and it was just a horrible coincidence that it happened the same day that Sawyer went into a coma. Maybe Taylor saw the chance to hide, to escape the consequences of what happened to Sawyer. Or maybe he just felt a double-dose survivor's guilt? I mean, what if something happened to Frank, but you had a mask of him? What would you do?"
"I'd take over for him in a heartbeat," Will gasps. "Of course. It would make the death less real, and we're not even real brothers, let alone twins. So maybe it would be the same with Taylor, if it was Sean who died."
His eyebrows twitch. "Of course this is all just a lot of baroque hypothesizing. Simplest theory is still that Taylor died and Scott ran off. Still, it shows that you were right," he ends in a ragged sigh. "The answer is at Westside, not at Eastman. Me and Frank really fucked up."
You grab him in a headlock and twist a hard knuckle into his scalp. "Fuck, we don't know that. I'm sorry I was pissed at you when you came in. Belinda really is a distraction. And she's not real smart, so probably she wasn't clear when she talked to you." You release him.
"I shoulda got her to be clear," he mutters. "I'll have to tell Frank when I talk to him. He texted me, you know. He arrived at Dad's late this morning. The inquest will be tonight, and we'll talk tomorrow."
"Where are you gonna be?"
He looks up at you in surprise. "Well, here, right?" He splays a hand across his chest.
"You said Prescott's life is so fucked up he can't talk to anyone. We need to get close to Mitchell and Bickelmeier. You're no use as a pariah, and it'll still be a few days before I can get my new identity enrolled."
Will cocks his head. "We've waited this long. We can wait for Rick. On the other hand, now that we're pretty sure what we're looking for, we could get it done so fast that we don't need to enroll you as a fake student."
"But how are we going to get close to Sean and Scott to talk to them, what with you, uh, hexed?"
"We don't know that they're affected by the hex," he points out. "And c'mon, Joe," he grins. "We're not a shy guy. We got no problem going up to strangers."
You make a face. "It would be easier if we had a bridge. Someone already at Westside."
"For me or for you?" He drums his chest. "You trying to save me from this act of altruism?"
You hunch over, thinking hard, trying to weigh the options objectively, without being influenced by your sympathy for Joe, or the sympathy you feel (through his mask) for his desire for some "fun."
"Either way, we might get this done by tomorrow night," you say slowly. "Either Joe Durras--either you or me--just make a cold call on Scott and or Sean. Or we stage a one-day hijacking of another life. At worst a two-day hijacking of two lives. Spare Rick and a lot of other people some unnecessary bother."
Will throws his head back and laughs. "How about we both go as Joe Durras?" he chortles. "A visit from a set of twins might shake something loose."
An interesting suggestion, and "fun" in a non-malicious way.
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