Night. Porsche convertible, racing at high speeds; headlights scour the winding road, engine roaring. Man behind the wheel drives with intensity. Thick wavy hair ripples in the wind, eyes crazed. Beside him, RACHEL. She looks worried; the winding turns coming way too fast.
A damsel in distress being snatched away by a crazed, good-looking scoundrel?
That’s the vibe we get.
Soon, flashing lights on their tail. Sirens. The police. Rachel’s anxiety worsens. But scoundrel ignores them. Italian handmade shoe mashes on the pedal, the Porsche roars away.
Now, lights up ahead. A HOSPITAL. Emergency room entrance. The car whips around a sharp corner, cops close behind, sirens wailing. An ambulance sits with flashing lights, doors open. The scoundrel hops out, unconcerned about the cops pulling up behind him. A DOCTOR appears, intercedes on his behalf: “It’s okay, officers. He’s a doctor…” then ushers the scoundrel inside, Rachel on his heels. The officers stand breathless, confused. Pissed.
Scoundrel turns out to be plastic surgeon MILES DAMON. He’s hot-shit and knows it.
The hospital doc gives him the run-down. Teenage girl, traffic accident, face a pile of goo. Hands him the x-rays. Then he adds, “Here’s a high school photo her mother supplied…”
“Think we can do better than that,” Damon says, passing the photo to Rachel. “Let’s get prepped…”
Hours later… Locker room. Damon exhausted, covered in sweat. Rachel unties his scrubs, pushes them past bare shoulders, towels his glistening back. He turns, grabs her hands, the euphoria of the operation still in his bloodstream. He kisses her passionately.
Rachel resists, “Miles. What about your wife?”
“I’d rather not.”
Damon pulls back, grins at her. “You don’t find her attractive?”
“Teasing you, darling.” He’s a rogue. Peter Pan in a man’s body; the talent of a plastic surgeon with the swagger of a pirate. He kisses her cheek, grabs her hand. They leave together.
DAMON’S CASTLE. A stone mansion on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
He enters. Noticeably absent is his roguish air. He tiptoes up the stairs to the master bedroom, peers in on the woman sleeping soundly, mask covering her eyes. The look on Damon’s face says it all.
Damon creeps to his office two doors down. Pours a stiff drink, looks at glossy photos from a large envelope, is visibly pained. His wife in the arms of a blond-haired scoundrel half her age.
Suddenly EVELYN appears at the door, eye mask pushed to her forehead.
“I assume you performed another one of your miracles tonight?”
Damon shows her the photo. “Why do you dislike me so?”
“I don’t dislike you darling. I despise you. There’s a huge difference.”
She turns, leaves. Damon falls back in his chair, confused, demoralized. He flings the photos from his desk, reaches for the open bottle of scotch…
THE NEXT DAY
Rachel, at the upscale office, giving a woman botox injections. She’s skilled, professional. She looks up, sees a disheveled Damon shuffle by.
Later, she appears at Damon’s office door, sympathy in her eyes.
Damon confesses: “I can’t go on like this. She knows I won’t divorce her. She’s conditioned me to a certain lifestyle and she knows I’ll never give it up. She enjoys torturing me.”
Rachel says: “I’ve been thinking about it and I think I have a solution. Come by later tonight…”
Damon, pacing, head in his hands.
Rachel sits calmly on the sofa.
“The perfect murder,” she corrects him. She patiently goes over the plan:
“We find a suitable candidate to take Evelyn’s place. Height, age, general proportions. She agrees to surgery. We make her into the spitting-image of Evelyn, right down to the birthmark on her ass. She acts the part of Evelyn and when no question remains as to who she is, she’ll agree to a public divorce and leave you everything.”
Damon considers, “But… why would she agree to this?”
“Why else? Money. A new identity. A fresh start on life. Just leave the woman to me.”
“And if she goes to the police?”
“Why would she, Miles? To get herself arrested and thrown in jail? Not likely...”
Damon thinks it over… “Murder.” The word lingers on his lips and Rachel’s eyes shine. “But is it possible…” he wonders.
Rachel grabs his hands. Skilled, talented hands. “You have the skill, darling. You know these gifted fingers can do it. Why not put your talents to use and create the future you deserve? The future we both deserve.”
He looks into her eyes. She’s very convincing. Suddenly he scoops her up into his arms and kisses her passionately. Looks like he’s made up his mind…
They plan how they’re going to kill Evelyn. The easiest is sodium thiopental, while the woman sleeps. But when Damon goes to perform the injection, he has a change of heart, and instead descends downstairs to get drunk. Rachel shows up expecting to see a dead wife, but Evelyn confronts her, ridicules her for wanting Damon. Rachel calmly picks up a golf club and bashes his wife’s brains in right then and there. Done.
Next comes disposing of the body. They wrap Evelyn in cellophane and haul her to the dock where Damon’s twenty-foot schooner sits anchored. Choppy water at night makes the task arduous, but they manage to weigh her down and dump her overboard. Step two complete.
As the days following Evelyn’s murder wear on, Damon appears frazzled. People are asking about her. He’s worried the lie about her sudden disappearance is wearing thin. Rachel eases his nerves: “I found her!”
She introduces Damon to the woman who will become the new Evelyn: DAISY. Rachel explains how she found the poor woman at a battered woman’s shelter. “She’s the perfect candidate! Perfect height, age, hair color, eye color!”
Damon’s confidence returns. YES! He can do this. He can make this woman into the spitting-image of his dead wife. Elated, he schedules the private surgery…
Hours pass as the doctor painstakingly reconstructs Daisy’s face to match the numerous angles of Evelyn’s profile on the various monitors. Rachel assists, her body tense.
Finally, the surgery is complete. It’ll take weeks before the scars heal and the bandages come off. Damon insists the patient recuperate at his castle. As the days pass, a fondness for the woman grows in Damon’s heart. You could almost say, an attraction...
And Rachel notices…
The bandages come off. Daisy IS Evelyn, down to every detail! Their plan is a complete success!
Rachel can’t help notice how close the two have become.
Damon takes pride in caring for his new wife, who has all of Evelyn’s beauty and none of her flaws.
When Rachel catches the two of them sharing a tender moment, it’s the first realization her plan has a fatal flaw: she didn’t account for Damon’s attraction to this phony surrogate!
When Rachel floats the idea of ‘getting rid of loose ends’, Damon is appalled.
He’s soon confronted by the reality that he’s fallen in love with this woman, fallen in love with his wife. “It’s not safe for you here,” he tells Daisy/Evelyn. “We’ve got to leave, get away from here. Together…” Daisy/Evelyn agrees and she confesses her love for him. Damon’s heart soars...
Without Rachel’s knowledge, Damon plans their escape. As a sign of good faith, Daisy suggests putting his profitable practice entirely in Rachel’s name. Damon hesitates - its represents a sizable income - but if it means appeasing Rachel, he’ll do it. He makes immediate plans to have his lawyer draw up the paperwork...
But Rachel’s no dummy. With the knowledge that Damon’s away in the city, she drives out to the isolated castle on the cliff. Out to where a defenseless Daisy waits patiently for the good doctor’s return. In Rachel’s hand, a loaded revolver. In her eyes, fierce determination.
Damon, driving those same winding roads, gets a feeling something ain’t right. He tries calling the mansion. No answer. Worried, he spins the car around, mashes the pedal. Hopes he isn’t too late.
He pulls up the circular drive, sees Rachel’s car. Panics. He rushes in, races up the stairs, bursts into Evelyn’s room, sees Rachel with the gun, lunges for her.
A SHOT rings out across the expansive estate.
Back in the bedroom, gunsmoke clears.
Rachel stands over Damon’s prostrate body. She turns the gun on Daisy, whose face has turned ghastly white…
And then her fingers drop the gun and Rachel races into Daisy’s arms, and the two of them embrace. THEIR PLAN WORKED!
Later, police cruisers, ambulance, the whole nine yards. A DETECTIVE compares notes with his partner.
“The wife says the nurse entered the bedroom just as the good doctor was about to pull the trigger. The two grappled and the gun went off.”
“Looks like she got here just in time…” the partner adds.
As the ambulance with Damon’s body leaves, Rachel and Daisy stand on the front steps, looking on, just two ordinary women having shared an extraordinary, horrific ordeal. But hidden from view, behind their backs, two hands clasped tightly and lovingly together.