The Seductive Impostor Read Online Free PDF Page B

slowly Frank Foster’s coma had deepened, until finally, two weeks after the tragedy, she and Willow had made the difficult decision to terminate life support.
    Their parents’ ashes were floating on the ocean now, forever fluttering on the endless tides of the rock-bound coast they both had loved so much.
    Rachel lifted her head and scrubbed at her face with both hands. What had come over Thadd and Marian that they had become lovers? And why had Frank Foster acted so horrifically? Rachel had answered those questions the day she had sat in the hospital and watched the final spark of life quietly drift from her father’s body.
    And that answer had been passion.
    Passion could drive a person to unimaginable heights of greatness, but it could also be destructive.
    For her parents, it had ultimately been tragic.
    And for Rachel, passion had ceased to exist three years ago.
    History, she was determined, would not repeat itself. Every thought, every decision, every action of her life was calculated now. She obeyed society’s rules, dressed sensibly, and didn’t date seriously. She quietly came to the aid of anyone in the community who needed a hand, but she no longer attended town meetings or allowed her one-time heated opinions to find voice at planning board hearings.
    And she no longer designed homes. She did, however, build mailboxes.
    After Willow had run over old man Smith’s pathetic old mailbox and had replaced it, she had become more aware of the sad condition of most of the mailboxes everyone passed every day without notice. The two sisters had formed a conspiracy then to anonymously replace the worst of the mailboxes in their community. It didn’t matter if the owner was rich or poor, Willow and Rachel let loose their imaginations and built and installed beautiful replacements for them.
    The results had astounded them. Not only were the recipients of the mailboxes pleasantly surprised to find themselves owners of beautiful works of art, but the entire town had a wonderful mystery that no one was in any hurry to solve.
    The mailboxes had become the subject of early morning coffee conversations as folks speculated on who was doing it, why, and when and where the next one would appear. And that speculation was going to explode thunderously the morning an eight-foot puffin appeared in the center of town.
    Rachel had found this one careful outlet in which to vent her own potentially destructive passions. It was a safety valve of sorts; Willow had her all-consuming work to pour her heart into, and Rachel had mailboxes. It was rewarding and very safe.
    In fact, far more safe than the idiotic mission she was on tonight.
    Rachel turned the flashlight beam down to her lap. She pulled the small piece of paper she’d taken from the strongbox out of her pocket and unfolded it.
    She traced her father’s handwriting, following the neat, bold black numbers that spelled out the master override for the alarms. Of course, the company babysitting Sub Rosa these last three years had changed the codes, probably several times. But these numbers would cancel out their newest sequence.
    Rachel sighed and used her cane to help herself stand up. It was time to get going and get this over with. She tucked the paper back in her pocket, then reached down and picked up the backpack.
    She should have left the bronze statue for another trip. The damn thing had to weigh fifteen pounds by itself. How many more trips she’d have to make, she didn’t know. But the letter had listed quite a few pieces that weren’t anywhere in sight, and she still hadn’t found the entrance to the secret room in her home.
    She hadn’t needed to pull out her blueprints to realize it existed, once she started examining the rooms upstairs. Her dad had stolen a foot or two out of all of them, all except her own bedroom. That he had been wise enough not to touch. She would have noticed the missing space immediately.
    Instead