A Face to Die For (Forensic Instincts 6)

“Really?” Marc’s face wore its customary unreadable expression. “Casey told me you two broke into Hanover’s office. Looks like I’m one hell of a teacher.”

“Not to worry,” Casey assured him. “I might pick a great lock, but I don’t have your nerves of steel. I’ll leave the breaking and entering to you.” She began passing case requests around the table. “Let’s dive in.”

Rye, New York

Gia logged into the secure mailbox provided to her by the DNA testing center, unsure whether or not she would find the results today. Two days was the minimum. The doctor had said it might take up to three, plus Gia was more than aware that no medical results were posted before nine a.m. Still, she was losing her mind. Dani was equally on edge. So, she had to give in to the urge to look.

She logged in and then nearly bolted out of her chair, her heart racing a mile a minute. The notification stared back at her. DNA testing results: Gia Russo and Danielle Murano.

This was it. The answers she and Dani had been holding their breath for. And now that they were here, she was scared to death. What she was about to read would, quite possibly, change her life forever.

Her hands trembled on the keyboard. Her index finger was poised to open the file, but she didn’t—couldn’t—do it. She realized she was being irrational, but she felt as if she were standing at the edge of a high diving board with no choice but to take that last step and plunge.

She didn’t want to take that plunge alone.

Gia glanced at the time on her laptop. Seven ten a.m. Six ten in Minneapolis. She hadn’t admitted it to herself, but she knew this was the reason she hadn’t gone to the gym this morning. She had to be at her computer, just in case. In her gut she knew Dani felt the same way. So maybe she hadn’t taken a cr

ack-of-dawn run and headed off to the animal clinic. In which case they could do this together.

On that thought, Gia picked up her disposable cell phone. She and Dani had talked a bunch of times each day, sometimes to reinforce their connection, sometimes to share their tension, and sometimes to talk. And now—it felt imperative that they share this experience.

She called Dani’s disposable phone number.

“Hi.” Dani answered on the first ring, her voice already fraught with tension—doubtless from the moment she’d seen Gia’s number on her Caller ID. “Are they in?”

“They’re in. Are you home?”

“Yes. I couldn’t go out—just in case. But I was trying to hold off—at least till business hours—so I wasn’t disappointed again.” A pause. “Did you look?”

“I wanted to. But somehow I needed for us to do this together.”

“Let me log in.” A few clicks and Dani blew out a breath. “I’m there.”

Gia swallowed, hard. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Okay, go.”

They opened the file simultaneously.

On each of their computers, the PDF appeared. A one-page document, consisting of the lab’s bold letterhead and a two-column results summary of all the tests run.

The right-hand side of the page consisted of rows of data markers—codes followed by long numbers that were indecipherable to both Dani and Gia.

It didn’t matter.

The left-hand side, much more succinct, had two sections—the top labelled conclusions and the bottom labelled statistics.

The conclusions were a two-paragraph explanation of the findings and the numerical likelihoods of each genetic connection the girls had been tested for. It held the longer-version answers they sought. But it was the brief statistics section below it that told them all they needed to know in one short phrase:

Monozygotic twins 99.9%.

“Oh my God,” Dani whispered.

Gia couldn’t even speak. She just kept staring at those two words—monozygotic twins—torn between shock at seeing them in print and a bone-deep awareness that both she and Dani had known the truth since the day they met.

They were identical twins.