THE TWINS watched Heather Connelly drive a silver Bentley Arnage down the long winding driveway, then through an electronically controlled gate. She stopped briefly, looked both ways, and turned right onto Pacific Coast Highway. After starting a yellow Hummer, they followed her.

Heather Connelly was twenty-seven-years old, tall, slender and tanned, with brunette shoulder length hair. The vivacious beauty had won the Ms. California crown at eighteen. She had hoped to win the Ms. America title and perhaps go on to win the Ms. Universe pageant, but was side tracked by a bout with cocaine that derailed her chances of winning and threatened her looks.

Heather Connelly had been Malibu High School’s most promising pupil. She was class president, valedictorian, prom queen, and president of the National Honor Society. Her musical talents included playing piano, saxophone, and violin. She also had a powerful singing voice before her bout with cocaine. Like Christina Aguilera, Heather could sing Pop, Jazz, and Rhythm and Blues, but she preferred opera.

Today marked the fifth year that Heather Connelly had been clean and sober. It was a time for celebration. She wanted to show Jasper Hunter, the man who had helped her beat the cocaine addiction, just how grateful she was. Tonight she planned to fulfill a particular fantasy of his, but she needed something special for the romantic interlude.

Jasper Hunter had been a counselor at the Wise Counseling Center in San Francisco when he and Heather met. He had found her extremely attractive, but dating the clientele was grounds for dismissal. He ignored the rules like he had so many times before and fell under Heather’s intoxicating spell. William Wise, the owner, discovered them in a compromising situation and fired Jasper on the spot. By that time, Heather was well on her way to conquering the addiction that had gripped her very soul.

The twins followed Heather at a distance down Pacific Coast Highway, discussing whether they should use the bumper on the Hummer to push her off the cliff into the Pacific Ocean. Having something better in store, they decided not to.

Heather Connelly turned into the parking lot of the Pier View Café and backed the Bentley into an open space between a black Porsche Carrera GT and a fire engine red convertible Lamborghini Diablo near the canopy entrance of the restaurant. She planned to have brunch with Sandra Rhodes and Paula Stevens, her loyal Malibu high school friends. Heather got out of her car and strolled into the restaurant. She was wearing a white-oversized V-neck sweater and lavender spandex leggings that showed off her long shapely legs.

The twins parked the Hummer several rows away from Heather’s Bentley and watched her float into the Café as if the world were hers to do with as she pleased. With high-powered binoculars, they could see Heather approach Sandra and Paula who were waiting for her on the deck. They watched the women talk for about an hour, sipping cool beverages from tall hand-painted margarita glasses and eating jumbo shrimp. On occasion, the women laughed and slapped high-fives.

"Look at them, Sam!" Alex blared in the Hummer. "Greedy bitches!"

"Let ‘em enjoy their little meeting," Sam hissed. "It’ll be their last."