Fool Me Once (26 page)

Outside, Gwen locked the door and reminded Jill about the missing step. Jill hopped over the space, and Gwen more or less lumbered down.

Jill turned to look at her friend of many years. “When this is all over, there is no way I'm letting you come back here. I'll buy you a van, and you can pack up the cats and move with me back to Mississippi. We aren't getting any younger, my friend. Something tells me we are going to need each other if the dark stuff hits the fan. You okay with that?”

“Will you have enough money left after you do the payback?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

“Not a lot, but enough for both of us if we get jobs. You can live with me until we find you a decent place that will allow all those cats. C'mon, now, we have some shopping to do.”

“Jill, what about our kids?”

Jill stopped in her tracks. “We blew that one a long time ago, Gwen. I don't know about you, but I say we let sleeping dogs lie. I sure as hell don't want them knowing the
whole
sorry story, do you? Can you imagine how they'd react, your son a cop and all? Do you want to take that chance? I don't.”

Gwen's voice was hesitant, doubtful. “My grandkids…”

“Yes, I know. Mary Louise has twins. I don't want to ruin their lives. It's time we took responsibility for our actions. Damn Allison Matthews! Do you think she's in hell, Gwen?”

Gwen straightened her plump shoulders. “I wouldn't be the least bit surprised,” she responded hopefully.

“Okay, here's the plan once we get to D.C. I'm going to call Dennis Lowell and ask him to meet us there. He at least deserves to know our story and Allison's role in it. I'm going to call my ex, Gill. He deserves to know, too.” She paused. “Do you want to call either one of your exes?”

“No. I think both of them are in jail somewhere. Let's not even go there, Jill.”

“It's going to be tough for both of us to finally spill our guts.”

Gwen laughed as Jill made a left turn at the light that would take them to Belk's. “Yeah, but think about how good it's going to feel to get this monkey off our shoulders. What's Ole Miss like these days, Jill?” she asked wistfully.

“You aren't going to believe the changes. It's wonderful. I think you're going to feel like I did. It was like going home again. Without the bad memories. They're all dead, Gwen. We outlived them all. We're the good guys, so that has to count for something. We'll make good lives for ourselves. Will you trust me?”

Gwen didn't have to think twice. “Of course I trust you.”

Jill leaned over and patted her friend's hand. “Coming here was the best thing I ever did, Gwen. I just want you to know that.”

Gwen squeezed Jill's fingers. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a hushed, apologetic whisper. “I hope she's roasting in hell, Jill.”

Jill looked at her friend with wet eyes. She didn't say anything, but she nodded in agreement.

A
nita Wellesley adjusted her glasses as she filled out Form 246ZV12 for a temporary kennel license. When she reached the line that called for a signature, she bit down on her lip and signed it Olivia Lowell. She added Olivia's address next to the signature.

Ten minutes later, Anita walked out of the office holding the temporary license that said Olivia Lowell could operate a terrier rescue out of her home for a period of ninety days.

Anna Pellecone beamed her pleasure when Anita waved the temporary license in the air as she climbed into the specially outfitted van. In the back, separated by a metal grille, eleven silver-toned Yorkshire terriers vented their displeasure at being cooped up in the van. Anna started to sing, and they quieted immediately, comforted by her sweet voice. One by one, they dozed off. When it was totally quiet, Anna spoke softly. “I hope this is the right thing to do, honey.”

“It is, Mom. We can't let a bunch of vultures take that little dog away from Ms. Lowell and her fiancé. When she was at the house you could see how much she loved the dogs. You heard her, Mom. If we can help, we have to do it, and it's just temporary.”

“Maybe we should have called her about your…your plan,” the older woman fretted.

“Mom, didn't you see the news this morning? Her house is surrounded by TV people and media groups. We have to strike while we can before some smart-ass lawyer shows up with whatever it is lawyers show up with that will allow them to take the dog away from that couple. Our own organization, and everyone else I could think of, is already out there protesting. It's going to be a circus. I just hope we aren't too late as it is. Call her, Mom. I wrote the number on that sticky note on the back of the phone. Tell her to clear her driveway so I can back the van into her garage. If she's as smart as I think she is, she'll have it all figured out by the time we get there.”

Anna Pellecone followed her daughter's instructions. When she hung up the phone, she was beaming. “I think she got it! She sounds real nervous, though—I could hear it in her voice. We cannot let those legal beagles take that little dog away from them, Anita.”

“Mom,
hello!
Why do you think we're on our way to her house? I forged her name to a temporary kennel license. We've got eleven dogs in the back who look just like Cecil and Loopy, all silver in color, all with beige faces, short tails, and the same haircuts. No one is taking that dog! They won't know which one is Cecil. I think—and this is just a guess on my part—it's why she came to us in the first place, to get a dog just like Cecil. This way we now have an even dozen extras. It's a reprieve, though I have to be honest—I don't know how long we can hold out. I think it's a stroke of genius on our part. Uh oh, would you look at that street!” Anita said as she carefully turned the corner onto Eagle Drive.

Anna Pellecone rolled her window up tight, grateful for the tinted glass. Anita drove down the street at a crawl, doing her best not to hit people running about. A child had set up a lemonade stand and was doing a brisk business. Farther down the street someone was selling yellow balloons with Cecil's name on them. He seemed to be doing a brisk business, too. Hundreds of people with their pets on leashes lined both sides of the street. A tethered goat was making all kinds of noises.

A circus.

Olivia opened the garage door the moment she spotted Anita's van. It just took seconds for Anita to turn into the driveway and enter the garage. The minute the van was secure inside, the garage door went down. Anita hopped out and ran to Olivia to hug her, the kennel license in her hand. She started to babble. She ended with, “I forged your name, but I don't think anyone is going to notice or say anything. I'm going to need some help getting these guys out of the van.”

“Why…why are you doing this?” Olivia stuttered.

“Somebody needs to be in Cecil's corner. Mom and I liked you. We just want to help. It's temporary, Olivia, but it might help.”

Jeff was standing in the kitchen when Olivia opened the garage door. When the quartet of silver dogs, Cecil's body doubles, raced into the kitchen, “Wow!” was all he could think of to say.

Within seconds, Cecil was lost in the herd. Olivia clapped her hands in delight. “Let them come and try to take him! Just let them try! Oh, Anita, this is so great! Hey, where's your mom?”

“In the van. There wasn't enough room in the back for her wheelchair.”

“I'll get her!” Jeff volunteered. He was back within minutes with Anna Pellecone in his arms. He set her down carefully on one of the kitchen chairs.

Anna looked around and smiled. “This is so nice, so cozy. The dogs will love it here.” She looked over at Olivia. “You're going to find a lot of little puddles today, but by tomorrow they'll get the hang of going outdoors. A new place and all,” she said by way of explanation. “Now, is there anything we can do in regard to that circus outside?”

“Just being here is more than enough. All those people outside, I just never…The phone is ringing off the hook. I haven't been answering it this morning. The wire services picked up my friend's story from our local paper. CBS and NBC are outside with their satellite trucks. Jeff and I are going to have to go out there pretty soon and make a statement.”

Jeff held up his hand and pointed to the television sitting on the kitchen counter. “Who's that?” Olivia demanded.

“Shhh. It's Lillian Manning's long-lost relative. The tabloids found him. I think that's English he's speaking. Hard to tell with his drawl.”

Olivia gasped. “That…that's who they want to give Cecil to?”

“Shhh, listen, Olivia.”

A tall, lanky young man with long, greasy-looking hair scratched his skinny chest as he looked into the camera. “I cain't say I knowed the lady, but I does love dogs. Hound dogs in pertic'lar. I ain't even thought about the money. I seen a picture of the house that's mine now. I might git a pool table, mebbe a bowling alley.” He hitched up jeans that were just as dirty as the shirt he was wearing. He puffed on a cigarette in between bursts of speech. “No, it ain't marijuana,” he said, pointing the cigarette at the camera covering him. He let loose with a hacking cough and spit out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, that's my hog,” the lanky man responded to a question, pointing to a rusty-looking motorcycle. “I'm gittin' it fixed soons they send me some money. I need to go there to collect the dog and the money. Mebbe today. They said they wuz wiring the money to the cycle people. You want to talk to me anymore, you is going to have to pay me. That's all, folks. No more interviews. Don't
aks
me any more questions. I'm done.”

The camera stayed on the dirty-looking man as he walked over to a trailer, where six or seven men who looked worse than he did were drinking from long-necked bottles of Bud. He reached for one and downed it in two gulps before tossing it into the air. One of his buddies whipped out a shotgun and shot the bottle in midair. A pack of skinny-looking wild dogs in the background barked shrilly at the sound of the shotgun blast. The scraggly-looking group cackled with delight before the camera crew switched back to the studio.

“Oh myyyyy God!” Olivia cried.

Her hand shook as she poured out coffee into the cups Jeff handed her.

“Olivia, think about it. That tabloid just did us the biggest favor of our lives. Half the world saw what we just saw. Does that guy look like someone you'd trust your dog with? I don't think so! I think once the firm gets a look at that particular segment, they're going to fall back and regroup.”

Anita walked over to the sliding door, opened it, and stepped back as the herd of dogs whooped and yapped their way out to the yard. She smiled like a doting mother. “That's good for our side, isn't it?” she called over her shoulder. She motioned Olivia to the door. “See if you can pick Cecil out of the pack.”

Olivia walked out onto the deck to check on the playful dogs. She whistled, then called Cecil's name. All the dogs beelined for the deck. She burst out laughing.

“I took all their collars off, but I know which one is which,” Anita said. “This is a new batch of dogs, and none of them has been microchipped yet. We're going to start using the microchips soon. We're having a bake sale and car wash next weekend to raise funds to do it. Even though our vet discounts his time, we still have to pay him something.”

Olivia wiped at the corners of her eyes. “If we pull this off, Anita, you aren't going to have to worry about anything again. Even if we don't pull it off, you still won't have to worry. How are we fixed for dog food?”

“I brought all we had at home. It will tide you over for a few days. I can get more on the way home. The other rescuers will help when we run short. We should get going. Mom doesn't like to be out too long. She's really going to miss the Yorkies, but we still have a poodle and a Scottie that have to be taken care of. I hope it all works out, Olivia. If you need me, call. I can be here in twenty minutes. Don't lose that license—put it someplace safe.”

Olivia hugged her new friend. “Thanks, Anita. For everything.”

“Good luck,” Anita said as she entered the kitchen. “Okay, Mom, we're going home now. Jeff will carry you out to the car.”

Olivia watched as Anita dropped to her knees and gathered the little herd of dogs close. She spoke softly, gently, promising to come back. She handed out treats, then sneaked out the door before the little dogs could realize she was gone.

Olivia walked around with a package of Tidy Wipes as she cleaned up puddles all around the house. The herd followed her, yipping happily as the old-timers brought out toys that squeaked and whistled. When she was finished she went back to the kitchen, where she washed her hands. She watched as Jeff made her a ham sandwich with a pickle and some chips on the plate.

“Now what?” Olivia asked, when she finished eating.

Jeff crossed his legs as he pushed his chair back from the table. “I guess it's time to turn the phone on. Then we need to go outside and make a statement. We have to stay on the good side of the press. They are on our side, you know.” He looked down at his cell phone and pressed a button to review the calls that had come in while he had the phone turned off. “We can't keep it turned off, Olivia. Your dad might call. You might miss some new customers. So we have to deal with the pests.”

Olivia grimaced. “You're right, Jeff,” she said as she turned the phone back on. It rang almost immediately. A groan escaped her lips as she picked it up. “Olivia Lowell,” she snapped into the mouthpiece. The moment she heard the voice on the other end of the phone, she sat down. “Yes, I'm home. Of course. Do you need directions? All right. The street is…It's kind of busy out there. Oh, you know, you saw it on television. I'll…I'll wait for you.”

“What? What's wrong? Was that your dad? What, Olivia?” Jeff demanded, his brow furrowing at the tone of his fiancée's voice.

Olivia pointed to the phone she was still holding. “That was…that was…Jeff, it was Jill Laramie. Gwen is with her. They're on their way here. They're coming here, Jeff! What do you think that means?”

Jeff scratched his head. “Hopefully, something good. Why else would they both be coming here? You know what, Olivia, it could mean almost anything. Hey, someone's at the door!” The pack of dogs raced from the great room, down the hall, out to the kitchen, and the back door. Jeff and Olivia looked up in surprise when the door opened.

“Dad!” Olivia cried as she ran to him.

“Mr. Lowell!” Jeff said.

After Olivia introduced her fiancé to her father, Dennis looked down at the pack of dogs and laughed. “I bet they all answer to the name of Cecil, huh?”

Olivia nodded nervously. “What are you doing here, Dad? What's wrong? Did something happen? Oh, God, don't tell me the boat sank.”

Dennis shrugged. “None of the above. Relax, Ollie. Jill called me yesterday and said I needed to get here as soon as possible. Gill, her ex, and Gwen are coming, too. I took that to mean it was something heavy coming down, so here I am.”

Olivia sat down, her mind racing. “Jill just called. She and Gwen are on their way here as we speak. She…she didn't say anything about her ex-husband coming, though. Did she explain anything about that to you, Dad?”

Dennis rubbed at his chin before he took off the baseball cap. His head was damp with sweat. “Not a clue. She just said I needed to get here immediately. She prepaid a ticket for me, and I flew first class. I assumed it was critical for me to be here, so here I am. If you say she's due any minute, I guess we'll know soon enough. How about some coffee and a sandwich if it isn't too much trouble?”

Jeff stood at attention. This was Olivia's father. He needed all the Brownie points he could get. “No sir, no trouble at all. I'll be happy to make the sandwich for you. We just made coffee, too.” Dennis winked at Olivia. She winked back and started to pace the confines of the kitchen. “Why are they coming here? Now! Why now? They must be up to something. Like I need this today.”

“Calm down, Ollie,” said Dennis. “Whatever it is, you can handle it. I'm thinking she's coming to give you a check. Then it will all be over. This business with Cecil will work out, too. Just try to calm down until we find out what's going on, Ollie.” Turning to Jeff, he asked, with a twinkle, “Do you know anything about boats, Jeff?”