Think Twice Read online

  “What a joke.” The driver flicked off the radio, chuckling. “Al Qaeda, in Nassau?”

  “They come for the Cuban cigars,” the pilot said, and they both laughed.

  Bennie kept her head to the plastic window of the Jeep, reading the lighted signs. Esso, Dream’s Liquor, the Hibiscus Inn Hotel, only $29.99 a night. Grassy fields gave way to suburbs and houses, with all the windows dark and dogs barking in the yards.

  “Almost there,” the pilot said. “We’re taking Blue Hill.”

  “The scenic route,” the driver added, and they laughed again.

  Bennie tuned them out, trying to guess where Alice would go. She’d have to stay at a hotel for the night. She couldn’t present herself at the bank until morning. “Hey guys,” she said, after a moment. “Do you know where the BSB bank is?”

  “Sure,” the driver answered. “Right in town, on Bay Street.”

  “Is there a hotel or two, near it?”

  “Plenty. The Sheraton and the Hilton are at the head of Bay Street, then there’s smaller ones, in town. Is that where we’re dropping you?”

  “Yes. The Sheraton.”

  “Sure you don’t wanna come party?”

  “Nah, thanks.”

  “Smart girl,” the pilot said, over his shoulder. “When Tommy parties, he ends up in jail.”

  The driver laughed. “Not tonight. They’ve got their hands full, with this fire. You wanna knock over a liquor store, this would be the time.”

  His words struck Bennie as true. The cops would be completely distracted tonight. If Alice had started the fire, that could be the reason. But why, exactly? To keep the cops from the bank? To get past immigration, in case the FBI had called down?

  They drove around a rotary, and another car flew by, then a blue van that read TRUST IN GOD. They passed a law school and the College of the Bahamas, reaching the fringe of the city and a string of houses, grocery stores, and a hair salon that read Home of the Instant Weave, Whole Cap. People sat on the stoops and stood in groups on the sidewalk, talking and smoking.

  Bennie eyed them. She wouldn’t have a hard time finding a six-foot blonde who dressed like a lawyer.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty

  Alice steered the Town Car down the dirt road, with Knox in the passenger seat and Julie in the back. It had taken a while to get in from the suburbs, but ahead she could see the tall hotels and lights of Nassau. A car behind them flashed its high beams.

  “I think that car wants to pass,” Julie said, tense. “Probably another one, going to the airport.”

  “Too bad, we’re in a hurry, too.” Alice wasn’t kidding. Sooner or later, the limo driver would notice that his car was gone. She glanced over at Knox, who was looking out the open window. He had gotten too expensive and she knew he’d ask for more money, later. He’d outlived his usefulness, anyway.

  The high beams flashed again, and Alice pulled over in front of a bright pink house and let the car speed past. She steered back onto the road, then hit the horn at the same time as she pulled her gun from her waistband, aimed it at Knox’s head, and pulled the trigger.

  HONK! Knox slumped instantly to the right, his blood and brain spattered over his shirt, and the car horn muted the sound of the gunshot and Julie’s cry of shock.

  “Shut up!” Alice grabbed the wheel and checked the rearview, where Julie had covered her mouth with her hand. “One more word, and you’ll get the same. Here’s what happens next. We stick to the plan, right?”

  Julie remained silent, terrified.

  “Say right for me.”

  “Right,” Julie answered, her voice tremulous.

  “Now, let’s review.” Alice tugged Knox forward by his shirt, and his body flopped over at the waist, his head bobbling in the well, his neck gone slack. She pushed the button to close the window on his side. “Julie, listen up. You there?”

  “Yes.”

  “You and I go to the bank. You introduce me as your friend from the States. We tell the guard you left your house keys at work by accident. You were at the hospital, then out with friends, that’s why we’re so late. Are you with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “We go to your office, you delete the email from USABank and do whatever else you have to do on the computer. When I know you transferred the money correctly, I’ll send you your cut, and we both walk away, right? You shut up, forever.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you call the cops, at any point, even after I’m gone, I say you killed Knox, your old high-school crush. I say you were part of the bank thing, and the airport.”

  “The airport?”

  Alice let it go. “If you talk, you go to jail, and they take your kid away from you. It’s all on you.”

  Tears filled Julie’s eyes.

  “You’re in deep now, but you’ll get out of it if you stay quiet. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Good girl.” Alice accelerated, wiping a teardrop of blood from her cheek. She checked her clothes and she was pretty clean. The only blowback was on her right hand and forearm, which she could wash off. It was lucky that Knox’s window was open or it would have been a mess. “Julie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Tell me where we can dump this body, before he takes a shit.”

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-one

  Bennie entered the glistening lobby of the Sheraton, which was empty, and she walked to the reception desk as a young desk clerk emerged from a door behind the counter.

  “Checking in?” he asked, pleasantly.

  “No, I’m looking for someone named Bennie Rosato. She looks like me, she’s my identical twin. Did she check in tonight? It would have been in the past few hours.”

  “I can’t give you that information. It’s confidential.”

  “But it’s important that I see her. I have some medicine she needs and I forget where she told me she was staying.”

  “Hmm.” The desk clerk glanced around. “Between us, I haven’t seen her and I’m the only one on.”

  “Where are the other hotels, the chains and the smaller ones? She could be at any one of them.”

  “The Hilton is right next door, and there’s a few others on Charlotte and Cumberland Streets. Our business district is only about ten blocks square, starting behind me.” The desk clerk pointed backwards, and Bennie thanked him and left.

  Outside, she scanned the street for Alice, but no luck. No one was on the sidewalk. There was almost no traffic, and it flowed one-way on Bay Street, downhill and to the left. Next door, the Hilton was huge and well-lit, and she walked toward it, passing only a group of rowdy teenagers in oversized T-shirts. She made her way through the Hilton’s parking lot and entered the lobby, which was brown, gold, and empty except for a gaggle of women in fuchsia dresses, chattering away.

  The desk clerk was on the phone, but she hung up as soon as Bennie came to the desk and asked for her twin sister.

  “I’m sorry,” the desk clerk said. “Our guests are confidential.”

  “But I have some medicine she needs to take tonight.”

  “I see.” The desk clerk bit her lip. “We’re full, with three conventions and the Anders wedding. Is she with any of them?”

  “No.”

  “Then she’s not here.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep looking.” Bennie left the hotel, went back outside, and surveyed the street. No Alice, and it was still empty. Across the way blazed the hot-pink-and-orange sign of a Dunkin’ Donuts, but the store was closed at this hour, as was a Thai restaurant and a Pirate Museum flying a black skull-and-crossbones flag.

  She took a left toward a stucco building that read BRITISH BANKING CENTRE, passed a Scotiabank, then followed Bay Street. It ran parallel to the water, guessing from the fishy odor. The night was black, the humidity oppressive, and sweat beaded on her forehead. The streetlights were few and far between, making haloed orbs, and many of the shops were covered by corru
gated security gates.

  She walked alone on a dark, gum-spattered pavement that ran under an overhang, past touristy T-shirt and pastel-colored gift shops, then a block of perfume shops and fancy stores like David Yurman, Fendi, and Gucci, all closed. Near the end of the block, sandwiched between a duty-free liquor store and discount jewelry store, she could see the brass letters of the BSB bank sign, the Greek columns on its façade out of place in the tropical vibe.

  She walked to the bank, which had its fluorescent lights on, inside. A security guard strolled among the tellers’ windows, which were festooned with turquoise-and-black crepe paper. Alice was nowhere in sight, but it made sense that she’d stay in a hotel close to the bank.

  Bennie looked around. Charlotte Street lay to her right, and in the middle of the block was a lighted Colonial Inne sign. She went that way, entered the hotel lobby, and told her sick twin story to the desk clerk, who accepted a twenty for telling her that her twin sister had not checked in, though she might be at another hotel.

  “Which one?” Bennie asked him.

  “The Wayfarer.” The desk clerk pulled out a street map, placed it on the wooden counter, and turned it around so that it was properly oriented, then drew a jagged pencil line to an X about eight blocks away.

  “Do I take a cab?”

  “No, you can walk it in fifteen minutes. It’s off the beaten path, and many tourists favor it. The sign is small and painted pink. Just follow Charlotte, then take a right, and stay with the pencil line.”

  “Thanks.” Bennie folded the map, went outside, and took a right. She walked a few blocks, then stopped and tried to read the map in the light from a closed restaurant, its chairs upside down on the tables. She could barely see the pencil line, so she walked left, then right, keeping an eye out for Alice.

  She turned the corner, where it got darker, but there was no pink Wayfarer sign. She heard footsteps and turned, but it was a skinny man holding a cigarette that trailed a snake of smoke. She kept going down the street, then turned right. The block was deserted except for a big man in a baseball cap, walking in her direction. She saw a flash of pink at the end of the block. She couldn’t read the sign but it had to be The Wayfarer.

  She picked up her pace. The big man kept coming, then seemed to block her path. “Excuse me,” she said, going around him, but he stepped in front of her.

  “Hi, Alice,” he said gruffly. The brim of his cap shadowed his face. “I’m a friend of Q’s.”

  “Who?” Q? Bennie flashed on the name. The man Alice had pissed off, back home.

  “You thought you could hide from him, by comin’ down here? He’s got friends everywhere, including the cops.” Suddenly the man grabbed her by the shoulder, whipped out a hunter’s knife, and pointed it at her chest.

  Bennie gasped, terrified.

  “Q wants you to know you’re getting what you deserve.”

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-two

  Alice followed the navigation system and steered onto West Bay Street toward Nassau. It was a winding road that ran along the beach, and the moon hung low in a black sky, making a shiny white stripe on the water. They had dumped Knox’s body near a deserted construction site, and Julie had calmed down, sitting upright in back, her tears dried and her head to the window.

  “Julie, we’re in this together,” Alice said, over her shoulder. “Cooperate and you get rid of me sooner, right?”

  “Right.”

  “We’re almost at the bank, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Where do I park when we get there?” Alice accelerated when she saw the lights of Nassau straight ahead.

  “There’s a small lot around the back. I’ll show you.”

  “Is it where the employees park?”

  “No, we park on Shirley Street, remotely. But there’s a small lot for deliveries, out back.”

  “Good girl. Don’t try anything funny. The hard part is over, and now it’s easy, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Any guards on duty, and where?”

  “One, patrolling inside. It’s either Jonah or Floyd. I forget who’s on tonight.”

  “Does he have a gun?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will he walk us to your office?”

  “No, he’ll let me go myself.”

  “I’ll go with you, too. By the way, no metal detectors, right?”

  “None. I’ve been there so long they don’t make me show ID anymore, and I’ll sign you in under a made-up name as my guest. My office is on the third floor, above the bank.”

  Alice stopped at a red light, then cruised ahead, passing the Sheraton, then the Hilton. Traffic was light, and there wasn’t a cop anywhere. The streets were deserted except for a few couples, their arms around each other. She steered left and right onto Bay Street. There were T-shirt shops, jewelry stores, perfume shops, and a few banks. Alice asked, “Which bank is BSB?”

  “The one next to that jewelry store, on the left.”

  Alice caught sight of a shiny BSB sign, above weird columns. The lights were on inside, showing crepe paper and balloons, like somebody was throwing a money party.

  She took a left turn, into the lot.

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-three

  Bennie screamed. The man clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the wall.

  She kicked him in the crotch. His eyes flared in pain. His hand fell off her mouth. The knife plunged down, cutting her shoulder.

  Bennie screamed again. The man punched her in the mouth. Her head exploded in pain. She reeled backwards, dropping her purse.

  “You’re dead, bitch!” the man said.

  Bennie fell, then she remembered. She stuck her hand inside her purse, found her gun with fumbling fingers, and fired through the leather.

  Crak! The gun went off. The purse exploded like a bomb. Pain shot through Bennie’s hand. She scrambled to her feet, backing away.

  The man grabbed his thigh, which spurted an arc of fresh blood. He dropped the knife.

  “Help!” someone shouted, from behind her. “Help, somebody! That guy’s attacking that girl!”

  Bennie whirled around to see another man, hustling toward her. He wanted to help, but she had to get Alice. She took off, running away.

  “Miss, stop!” the man shouted. “Stop!”

  Bennie ran down one street then the next, not knowing where she was going, not daring to stop. She veered around a corner, heading downhill toward the business district. She darted across a narrow street. A car swerved to miss her, then a minivan. She kept running. A taxi shot out of nowhere, screeching to a halt.

  HONK! went the horn, but she kept going, back on Bay Street.

  The BSB bank was straight ahead.

  Bennie took a right turn and ran hard.

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-four

  Alice parked in the lot behind the BSB bank, took her messenger bag with the gun inside, and got out of the car. She was going to get Julie out of the backseat when she heard shouting. She looked up. A man was down the street, pointing at her.

  “That’s her!” he shouted. “She shot a guy! Get her!”

  What? Alice froze, stunned. How did he know? She’d killed Knox miles away.

  “Police, somebody, help!” The man kept running toward her, joined by another guy.

  “Help!” Julie jumped out of the car, screaming and running for the bank. “Help, Jonah! Floyd!”

  Alice took off, running full tilt. She tore down the street, but she couldn’t outrun them. They were shouting, right behind her. She took a right, then a left, down one dark street after another, bolting across the road.

  Honk! Honk! A bus screeched to a halt, but she kept running. She spotted an alley and ducked inside. The bus had screened her from the men.

  She hid in the shadow, watching. In the next minute, the men raced past the mouth of the alley and kept running away, down the street.

  Suddenly she felt something press into the small of her bac
k. Someone lifted her messenger bag from her shoulder.

  “Turn around slowly,” said a voice. “I knew if I found an alley with a view of the bank, you’d drop by.”

  Alice recognized the voice.

  It was her own.

  Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-five

  Bennie aimed the gun and forced Alice backwards, to the wall of the alley. There was only one way this could end. She was finally going to kill her twin.

  “Bennie?” Alice put her hands up and stopped, her back to the wall. “Bennie? Bennie!”

  Bennie didn’t reply or waver. She advanced with the gun. Her hand was steady, her concentration absolute. The gun was still hot. She lined up its sight on her target.

  “No, wait. What’s the matter with you? What are you doing?”

  Bennie didn’t answer. Police sirens blared nearby. They would come soon. She didn’t have much time. She cocked the trigger.

  “Aren’t you going to call the cops?” Alice burst into tears. “Please God, don’t kill me!”

  Bennie couldn’t live unless Alice died. It was that simple.

  “No, wait, please!” Alice fell to her knees. “Please, no!”

  Bennie stepped close enough to stand over Alice. She aimed at her forehead. It wasn’t a murder, it was an execution.

  “Please!” Alice raised her hands, begging. “Please don’t kill me! You can’t!”

  “Yes, I can.” Bennie sounded matter-of-fact, even to her. “I have you in me, and you have me in you. That’s why you couldn’t kill me. And why I can kill you.”

  “No, please Bennie!” Alice collapsed in tears, doubling over, her forehead to the ground.

  Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps behind her, and Bennie glanced over her shoulder. The figure of a woman appeared at the mouth of the alley. Lights from shops across the street silhouetted her.