Jane Reilly, an alleged Irish terrorist, is on a mission. A mission to avenge her twin sister's death. A mission to find peace in the world. At least in her life.
An American is reportedly murdered in her flat. The murder victim is allegedly Jane Reilly, alleged terrorist with an Irish group. Or so New Scotland Yard thought. And the American Ambassador. And her Irish friends.
The autopsy reveals the murder victim is Jane's twin, Laura
The list of suspects: A U.S. senator, one of her Irish friends,
The ambassador's chief aide, and even the ambassador himself.
The killer strikes again. The list of suspects remains the same. Peace in Northern Ireland is at stake. Everyone involved wants this Investigation to die. Everyone--except one man.
One woman. One mission. One last chance.
Laura shook her head twice, watching as a hoard of humans flowed down the
Concourse. She shrank back in the shadows, leaning against the wall. She cover her mouth slowly. Laura had been battling claustrophobia ever since childhood; a childhood she now realized was a farce.
She was standing near the ladies’ restroom, closest to the custom’s exit. Laura pushed back a blond strand of wig hair, searching the crowd. Her twin suddenly came into focus. Laura adjusted the wig and shuffled in the too-tight leather pumps.
Laura shook her head, remembering their last conversation, which ended in guarded secrecy.
You’ve got to, Jane pleaded.
Why Jane? Why now?
I told you, Laura. We may finally find out the truth.
I can’t do it, Jane.
You can, Laura. You must. It’ll only be a few weeks. Go to Chad. When I get back, we’ll sort everything out.
No, Laura. You can’t go back to my flat.
I have nowhere else to go. I’ll be safe there.
Believe me, Laura, that is the last place you will be safe.
All right, then.
I will tell you when I get back.
The wig started to itch again. Laura pulled it down as hard as she could watching the platinum blond head weave her way down the ramp. Laura leaned back against the restroom door and pushed it open. She moved over to the sink to stare into the mirror.
“You aren’t going to back out?”
Laura swiveled around to face the five-foot-ten blonde mirror image. Except for the small mole at the corner of Jane’s mouth, the two were identical. Laura returned a weak smile.
“No, Jane. I am ready. But, what about Derek?”
Jane gripped her twin’s wrist. “He won’t find out.”
Frightened, Laura jerked away from her sister.
Jane gave her sister a reassuring smile. “Nothing will go wrong, Laura!”
“No, Jane, nothing will go wrong.”