Fool Me Once (28 page)

A bomb could have exploded next door and no one would have noticed. In the background, the dogs barked.

Dennis Lowell dropped his head into his hands, finally coming to grips with the nature of the woman he had been unfortunate enough to marry. But could he really regret that marriage when they had created the wonderful daughter Olivia had turned out to be? Still, he made garbled noises behind his hands.

Olivia, finally realizing the extent to which she had been manipulated, sat in stunned silence, tears rolling down her cheeks. Jeff put his arm around her shoulders.

Gill Laramie gulped at his beer bottle.

“Not that this matters, but since we're telling you everything, we might as well tell you this, too. Gwen and I both went into therapy. We came to understand that Gwen had dealt with the guilt by marrying lousy husbands. She was relieved when they went through all the money. I, in turn, ran and hid. Speaking strictly for myself, there was no way I could love my daughter. Every time I looked at her I would think about the person who was her father and what I'd done. Gill did a better job of raising her than I ever could have. That's why I stayed out of their lives. You, Olivia, were the lucky one. Dennis, because he's a wonderful human being, loved you from the minute you were born and never let you know anything bad about your ‘dead' mother. However evil Allison was, your father raised you to be a wonderful young woman. Don't you ever forget that.”

Olivia, still dazed, had eyes only for her father. She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her pink shirt. She wanted to run to him, to have him tell her he would make this all come out right. Dennis looked up through his own tears and held out his arms. She bolted forward. “It doesn't matter to me, Dad. It doesn't. Please, Dad, tell me it doesn't matter to you. Please, Dad. Whatever that woman was like, it has nothing to do with us. Does it?”

“No, it doesn't, Ollie. Whatever your mother was, you're my daughter. And a better daughter no man could have. That's never going to change, no matter what.”

Reassured, with her father's arms about her, Olivia looked at the other two women, who were also crying. She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes again. “I know how hard it was to tell us about your past. I give you my word that I won't say anything to your families. What I will tell you is that I set up trust funds for your children and grandchildren with some of the monies from Adrian Ames's estate. Because it was the right thing to do.” She wiped at her eyes again. “The bank sent back the check the attorney sent them to pay off the robbery. They said they were paid years ago by the insurance company and the case is closed. So the money goes back to you. Let's just say that the money you stole was advance payment for the services you were later required to perform. I, for one, have no intention of judging anyone. What are you going to do now?” Olivia held out the check, and both Gwen and Jill shook their heads as they reared back in their chairs. It was clear to everyone that they wanted nothing to do with the money.

Gill Laramie stood up, a look of revulsion on his face. There was no forgiveness of any kind in his expression. He looked down at his ex-wife, the revulsion directed at her. “I cannot believe you let me believe all these years that Mary Louise was my daughter. That was beyond cruel, Jill. All those years of struggling, trying to raise her, college, all of that. I think you're insane. You had free will. You didn't
have
to do what you did.”

“Gill, please don't tell Mary Louise. Please.”

“Don't worry, I'm not going to tell her. I hope to hell God punishes you for what you did. Stay out of her life, and the twins' lives, too. I hope I never have to see you again. You are despicable. Now, can someone call me a taxi to take me to the airport?”

Jeff jumped to his feet and went to the kitchen to call the taxi.

Dennis Lowell squeezed Olivia's shoulders. Olivia leaned into him, savoring the comfort and strength of his body. Whoever her mother had been, he was her dad. He would always be her dad.

Olivia looked at the two women, who looked drained. “What are you going to do now?”

“We're going back to Mississippi to pick up the pieces. We'll get jobs, live together till we can get our lives on track. Maybe God will smile on us and let us find a chance at some happiness.”

“Is that decision carved in stone?” Olivia asked.

Gwen made a sound that passed for a laugh. “I live one day at a time. My biggest worry is how I can keep feeding my cats. Look, don't feel sorry for us. We'll find our way.”

“I'm going to throw something out to you. Think about it. How would you two like to take over the operation of Adrian's Treasures? There's a big, fine house in the mountains that would be perfect for all those cats. There are any number of wonderful colleges in the area, if it's the academic ambiance you're looking for. You'll earn a hefty salary, but you'll be working for your money. You'll learn the business in no time. It's a win-win for both of you if you're interested.”

“Take over Adrian Ames's business?” Jill gasped. “She would spin in her grave if she knew. I don't have to think about it—my answer is yes. Talk about divine retribution!”

“I'm in. As long as I can bring all my cats. Why would you do this for us?” Gwen asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Olivia smiled through her own tears. “Because it's the right thing to do! Right, Dad?”

Dennis laughed. “Yes, it's the right thing to do, Ollie.”

“There you go. My dad has the final word. Ladies, we have a deal!”

The front door closed, and the back slider opened. All the little Cecils bounded into the room. They yipped and yapped as they clamored for attention. The women obliged by tickling them behind the ears and rubbing their little pink bellies.

The worst was over.

O
livia stared at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. Eight long days had passed since the “revelation” occurred. That's how she thought of the meeting she'd had with Jill, Gwen, Gill, and her father—as the revelation. Her stomach churned as she moved back to the table and her cup of coffee. She was waiting for Jeff to come downstairs so they could go to court for Cecil's scheduled hearing.

Eagle Drive was starting to come alive with the reporters and camera crews. She knew without looking out the front window that by seven everyone would be drinking coffee out of styrofoam cups, waiting for Jeff to leave the house. She wondered if they would pack up and follow him or stay on Eagle Drive. It would probably be half and half, she decided.

Olivia carried her coffee out to the deck, where the dogs were scampering around in the dew-moistened grass. How happy they all were! Just yesterday Jeff had taught the whole herd to jump through a hula hoop he'd found in the garage. The promise of a treat was reason enough to jump through the bright red hoop—except for Alice, who looked on with disdain at such shenanigans. However, when she saw the reward on the other end, she'd stirred herself and calmly approached the hoop and
stepped
through it. She did it five more times, earning a collection of six treats that she refused to share with anyone. Jeff laughed so hard he sat down and rolled on the grass, holding his sides.

Dogs were not dumb, was his assessment later, when he could breathe again. Especially not Alice.

Cecil pawed at Olivia's leg; he wanted to be picked up. Olivia obliged and crooned to him, “It's okay, Cecil. Trust me. Jeff isn't going to let anyone take you away. He's a lawyer. I know people hate lawyers, but he's one of the nice ones.” Cecil licked at her chin before he snuggled into her arms. She hugged him.

Olivia sipped at her morning coffee as she thought about the past eight days—days that had rocked her to the core of her being. One of these days, when her life returned to normal, she was going to go into D.C. by herself and walk around the Tidal Basin to get her thoughts and feelings in order. She hadn't known it at the time because she was just a little girl, but her father had been in the habit of taking her there when he was stressed out about something. He'd hold her hand, talk to her about cartoons, roller-skating, sleepovers, all kinds of things until he worked out in his mind whatever was troubling him. Then they'd go for either a slice of pizza or an ice cream. Never both, and it was always her decision which one to have.

Since the revelation, her father had called every single day to reassure her of his love, to tell her that nothing had changed now that they knew what they knew about the woman who had given birth to her. She believed him because she loved him. She'd done her best to reassure him that she felt the same way, and she did.

The only change resulting from Gwen and Jill's revelation was how much more Olivia hated the woman known as Adrian Ames. But Adrian, as much as Allison, belonged to the past, and Olivia had felt a sense of peace come over her these last few days.

She thought back to the night of the revelation, when she'd seen her guests out the door, and although she hadn't meant to eavesdrop, had heard Jill's words carry up the driveway. She remembered seeing Jill put her hand on Gwen's arm and turn the other woman toward her so they were face to face, when she said, “Yes, I think she's in hell, Gwen.” Then, arm in arm, the two had climbed into the rental car and left.

So many things had happened in the last eight days. Great Rock said their books were closed, too, and told Prentice O'Brien not to send them a check. The check from Jill and another check drawn on the funds the insurance company had refused, had gone into a special fund designated for animal rights, the homeless, soup kitchens, free medical and dental care for poor children, and everything else Olivia could think of to tack on to the new foundation.

Gwen and Jill were now living in Adrian Ames's house and were talking about selling it and moving the executive suite to Mississippi if Olivia approved. Jeff said he thought it was a good idea and undertook to provide them legal advice in conjunction with the company's in-house legal department.

As her father had said, things had a way of working themselves out for the best if you were just patient. What a wise man he was.

Olivia was jolted from her thoughts when she heard a voice at the back gate. “Hey, Ollie, it's me, Dee Dee! Can I come in?”

Cecil was off Olivia's lap in the blink of an eye. The little herd escorted the reporter across the yard to the deck, which was a riot of bright red geraniums and Gerbera daisies in clay pots. A yellow butterfly settled on one of the blooms. Three of the little dogs watched the delicate butterfly but made no move to spring or pounce. Olivia smiled.

Dee Dee was breathless with her sprint across the yard. “Ollie, you have company! Your front doorbell should be ringing any second. I think it's your boyfriend's old boss. I saw his picture in the paper the other day. I can stay, can't I?” She pointed to the minirecorder in the pocket of her blouse. “It's on, and recording right now.”

“Mr. Martindale is here? Oh myyyy God! I have to get Jeff. Court is this morning. What's he doing here? Of course you can stay.”

Dee Dee shrugged. “Maybe he wants to settle before court. Lawyers do that all the time. He's got someone with him. I think it's Mrs. Manning's heir, but you won't recognize him. They really spruced him up. There goes the doorbell! What about the dogs?”

Olivia clenched and unclenched her fists as she tried to figure out what to do. She looked down at her watch. Jeff had exactly seven minutes if he wanted to make court on time. “Let's leave them out here for now. They'll stay right here by the door. If I nod, that means you let them in, okay? By the way, we're on for Saturday for a double date. Last Saturday was just too hectic. Among other things, we forgot the Apple Blossom Festival. Jeff says you're gonna love his friend. C'mon, let's see what Mr. Ambrose Martindale has to say.”

Jeff was just opening the door when the two women joined him. Olivia looked the tall man over. He was everything Jeff had said he was. He was wearing a power suit in medium gray. His steel gray hair complemented a superior tan, probably from some tanning bed in his suite of offices. The man's scent was overpowering, as was the shine on his Bally shoes. The gold Rolex on his wrist winked in the foyer light. But it was his companion, a tall, thin man she'd seen on television over a week ago, who drew her attention.

Someone, probably Ambrose Martindale, had cleaned up this guy. He no longer looked like a shotgun-toting hillbilly drinking from a long-necked Bud bottle. He was dressed in dark blue Armani with a tie as powerful as the one Martindale was wearing. The pristine white shirt hugged his skinny neck like a vise. His straggly locks were gone, replaced with a regulation haircut. He looked more than presentable.

“May we come in, Jeffrey?”

Jeff didn't speak immediately but stepped forward, forcing both Martindale and the young man with him to step backward. Then he said calmly, “Why? What do you want, Ambrose? You shouldn't be here. I have to leave for court now. If you had called, I could have saved you the trip all the way out here.” He took another step forward so the gaggle out front could get better pictures.

Martindale appeared unperturbed. “Allow me to introduce Everly Cracker. He's Mrs. Manning's heir. We would both like to talk to you. I can call the courthouse and explain that we're in negotiations. They'll just hear the case scheduled after ours. Judge Donner is a very understanding man and an old golfing buddy.”

“There's nothing to negotiate, Ambrose. I'm not giving up Cecil to you or Mr…. Cracker. There's nothing else to discuss. Unless you're trying to tell me Judge Donner is predisposed to rule in your favor. That is what you're saying, isn't it?”

Martindale remained unruffled. “What I'm saying is, Judge Donner is a very understanding man, and we've been friends for over thirty years. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he ruled in our favor. You're a hothead, Bannerman. I have every right to ask to see Cecil to see for myself that he is hale and hearty and being taken care of. Now, fetch him, please.”

Jeff looked at Olivia and raised his eyebrows. Olivia in turn nodded to Dee Dee. Jeff then whistled through his teeth to the crowd out front. “Hey, guys, it's time for you to meet Cecil. C'mon up!”

The silver stampede from the back deck was thunderous as Dee Dee hopped up on the foyer bench and started clicking her Nikon. The rush of human feet to the front door was pure pandemonium.

“Rats!” Cracker bellowed. “Somebody do something!” He flattened himself against the wall, his arms crossed against his skinny chest. “What the hell kind of place is this?”

“Shut up, Everly. Don't be stupid—they're dogs, not rats. What the hell is going on here, Bannerman?” Martindale demanded.

“I don't owe you any explanation, Martindale. I don't work for your firm anymore. I'm heading for court. You can do whatever you want. I'm going to make a motion for Judge Donner to recuse himself based on his long personal friendship with you. I'll also mention how understanding he is.” This last was said loud enough for the reporters to catch every word.

“Stop being such an ass, Bannerman. I came all the way out here to talk to you to avoid a circus in court. Let's go someplace quiet so we can talk. Can't someone shut these dogs up? Which one is Cecil?”

Jeff smirked. “Cecil is the silver one with the beige face, short tail, perky ears!”

Martindale bent over to look at the yapping pack of dogs. “What are you trying to pull here? They all look like that!”

“They do, don't they? Call him by name. Cecil knows his name.”

“These ain't dogs—these is rats. Don't you go thinkin' I'm takin' on some rat to git that old lady's money. I ain't takin' no rat! I ain't never seen dogs like this,” Cracker said.

For the first time Martindale looked frazzled. “Shut up, Cracker. I told you, they're dogs and not rats. Act like you have half a brain, will you?”

“Are you sayin' I'm stupid?” Cracker's foot lashed out to kick one of the little dogs, but he scampered away when he saw the shiny Bruno Magli shoe aimed at his tiny head. Dee Dee got the shot dead center, as did the other photographers clustered in the doorway and foyer. In the midst of this, Martindale was shouting Cecil's name and couldn't understand why all the little dogs rushed to him.

“Take your pick, Martindale.”

“I'll get you disbarred for this, Bannerman. Now, for the last time, which one is Cecil?”

“The long answer is, I don't know. The short answer is the same, I don't know. But as you can see, all the dogs are fine. They're healthy, and they are loved, and they belong together. Pick out Cecil, and let's get this show on the road.”

“I can't pick him out, and you damn well know it, Bannerman. I'm ordering you to pick up that dog and show him to me. The courts are not going to view this kindly. How do I know that any of these dogs is Cecil? And isn't it against the law to have so many dogs in one house?” he blustered.

“Would you like to have an evidentiary hearing on the question of whether or not one of these dogs is Cecil? As Cecil's handler, Ms. Lowell's lawyer, and, most importantly, an officer of the court, I am prepared to so testify, as well as to present myriad witnesses who can support that proposition. Do you have any witnesses to the contrary?”

Before Martindale could respond, Olivia had the temporary kennel license in her hand. She waved it under Ambrose Martindale's nose. He backed up and blanched.

“Well?” Jeff said, tapping his foot impatiently.

“How about you, Mr. Cracker? Do you want to take a stab at picking out Cecil?” Jeff asked.

“I don't want no dog, 'specially one that looks like a rat. You can have him. Just give me my money and let me go home to that big fancy house. My friends are waitin' fer me. If I showed up with one of them there rats, they'd laugh me right out of there. I told you when I got here I didn' want no dog.”

Olivia looked at the lanky man, her jaw dropping. “You don't want Cecil! Will you put that in writing?”
Please, God, let him know how to write.

“Mr. Cracker is not putting anything in writing, so get that idea right out of your head, Ms. Lowell.” Martindale bent over to peer at the sea of silver fur that was looking at him intently.

Olivia watched one of the little dogs—Cecil, she noted when she saw the little red mark on his tail—inch his way behind the lawyer. His head was down, as were his ears, his tiny little tail tucked tightly between his legs. She backed up a step and nudged Dee Dee to home in on Cecil, which she did just as the little dog took a mighty leap and sank his teeth into the seat of Martindale's expensive pants. Cecil hung on for dear life as the lawyer unsuccessfully tried to shake him loose.

Seeing their buddy having all the fun, the pack closed in, and in short order, Martindale looked like a Christmas tree bedecked with hanging terrier ornaments.

Everly Cracker chortled with laughter. “Ornery little cusses, ain't they? Gimme that paper so I kin git outta here.”