Fool Me Once (8 page)

Jeff looked at his hostess.
Really
looked at her and was stunned.
She's beautiful,
he thought. And she smelled so good!
She smells like soap and water, green grass and flowers
. He thought then about the woman he'd been with the night before. She'd smelled like nothing he'd ever smelled before. A hair-spray smell, a makeup smell, a perfume smell, and a deodorant smell. For a split second he couldn't remember her name. Then it came to him. Melanie. Melanie something. A paralegal from his law firm. They'd gone out for a drink at the end of the day with a few coworkers and somehow ended up at his place, which hadn't been his intention at all. Everyone at the office said Melanie was a manipulator. They were right. He'd never been a one-night-stand kind of guy. Hell, he wasn't much of anything in the romance department. He was married to his job. It worked that way when you put in sixty to seventy hours a week. Any leftover time was spent sleeping and eating. Just another way of saying he was a dud, romantically speaking.

“They aren't going to attack me, are they?” He wondered why his voice sounded so strange. It looked to him like Olivia was wondering the same thing. He marched to the door and opened it. The dogs barreled through, barking and squabbling, almost knocking him over. Olivia tittered behind her hand.

The phone rang. Probably her dad calling to see what was going on. She almost said, “Hi, Dad,” but changed her mind and simply said, “Hello.”

“It's Clarence, Olivia. How are you this snowy morning?”

Olivia winced. “Fine, Clarence. How about you?”
Please, please, don't regale me with details of your latest tax cheat
.

“Fine. I'm fine. I was wondering if we could get together this evening. I could pick up some Chinese or maybe some Italian. What do you say?”

Olivia crossed her fingers and fibbed. “Gee, Clarence, my dad is in town. I have to spend time with him. Can we make it some night next week? I'll cook.” As an added incentive, she continued, “I'll even make you a pie.” She had to get off the phone before Jeff came back into the house.

Clarence laughed heartily. Olivia shuddered at the sound. “Well, I can't turn that down.”
Didn't think so,
Olivia said to herself.
Cheapskate
.

“Okay, it's a date. I'll call you on Monday to set up a time. I have some great stories to tell you. You aren't going to believe some of it.”

“Oh, I'm sure. Okay, Clarence, call me Monday.”
I need to get Caller ID
. Olivia made a mental note to call the phone company first thing Monday morning, then uttered her good-bye and hung up the phone. It wasn't that she didn't like Clarence. As a friend, he was okay. But he was incredibly boring, and, as a suitor, which was what Clarence wanted to be, he was sadly lacking. She saw him from time to time because she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She really had to break it off with him. Maybe she could do that gently over the pumpkin pie she would bake him next week. She shivered at the thought of an IRS audit if Clarence didn't take rejection well.

As Olivia gulped her coffee, her gaze fell on the tall man wielding the broom on the patio. The dogs were trying to catch the broom and the snow at the same time. She could hear the lawyer laughing through the closed door. He looked like he was having fun. For some reason she felt buoyed at the sight and sound of him.

The moment Jeff opened the door, the dogs bounded through and headed for the laundry room. Jeff followed, reached for a towel, and dried them off the way he'd seen Olivia do it. He looked up and grinned. Olivia felt her heart start to melt. Then it hardened immediately when she thought about the chirpy voice she'd heard the night before.

“Did I earn that dollar? Where are the treats? I have these,” he added, scrutinizing the Milk-Bones Olivia handed him. “That's how we can tell. Cecil won't eat these. He wants those bacon strips.” Olivia laughed as all four dogs gobbled the treats.

“Guess that shoots down your theory. Come on, sit down. We have to figure out what we're going to do about Cecil.”

Jeff felt his heart start to flip-flop in his chest. “Look, if I go to my boss and complain, he's just going to give Cecil to someone else to take care of. That's the unknown. Everyone is in the same position I'm in. Too many hours at work, not enough hours in the day. Most apartments don't allow dogs. It's best, I'm thinking, if we keep this between us, with Cecil's best interest being our main goal. It's obvious he's happy here. He likes the other dogs. Since we don't know which one is which, here's what I think. If you agree to dog-sit him, the stipend is yours. I know you said you don't care about that, but fair is fair. It's the best situation for Cecil, considering the circumstances. I'll try to make it out here a couple of times a week plus weekends to do my share. In return, I'll help you with your…your situation. If you want me to. If you want to drive to your…to the house you inherited tomorrow, I'll go with you. I need to see the information she said is in her wall safe in regard to the robbery. What do you think?”

What did she think? It sounded like a win-win situation. Still, she didn't want to appear too eager. It was best for Cecil. She couldn't argue with that. She wondered if they would be breaking any laws but was afraid to ask. It would be nice to have some company, some legal company, when she traveled the forty or so miles to the nearby estate Adrian Ames had left her.

Olivia brought her gaze up to meet Jeff's. He had incredible brown eyes. Soft and caring. “Okay. But you have to do your share. I don't want any money. I would like…it very much if you would agree to go to that house. If the snow lets up, that is.”

Jeff's sigh of relief was so loud, Olivia sighed in response. Little did she know her own sigh was equally loud. Jeff stretched out his hand. Olivia grasped it. He had a handshake just like her dad's.

Maybe this was a good thing after all.

Time would tell.

“I
guess I should be leaving,” Jeff said as he eyed the falling snow through the window.

Olivia found herself grimacing. She'd be alone if he left, the balance of the day looming ahead of her. Still, she felt awkward asking him to stay. She wished she was a more forceful kind of person. Her one big flaw, her father always said, was trying to please everyone and never putting herself first. Her snappy comeback to that comment had been, “You taught me to always think of others first instead of myself.” To which he replied, “I was trying to instill…” whatever it was he was trying to instill in her.

“Be careful on the roads. I don't think there will be any real accumulation. It's more or less just snow flurries now. If it freezes, it might become a problem.” How dull-witted that sounded.

Jeff bunched the wilted-looking baseball cap into a ball, straightened it out, and bunched it up again before putting it back on his head. “I need a change of clothes, and I want to get a head start on that brief I have to write. I'll gather up all of Cecil's gear and bring it with me when I come back. What time do you want me to come tomorrow? And, are we in total agreement that I am not taking Cecil with me?”

Olivia took a deep breath and inhaled the fragrance of the simmering soup. “An early start would be good if you can make it out here. Since the weather is iffy, we should plan for contingencies.” Damn, that sounded like something coming out of a schoolteacher's mouth. “Maybe if you bring Cecil's gear, he'll dig in, and we'll be able to tell which one is which. If you feel like making the trip back out here this evening, I'll wait dinner for you. The soup isn't finished—otherwise I'd give you some to take with you.”

“You know what, Olivia, I'll give that some thought. Should I call you if I plan on coming back tonight? You're right about the iffy weather, too. I'll pay attention to the weather reports and get back to you.” Suddenly he yelled, “Hey, Cecil, I'm leaving now.”

Four dogs came on the run and skidded to a stop. They eyed him with suspicion. When he dropped to his knees to coax them toward him, all four scampered off. Olivia shrugged.

“Told you that dog hates my guts,” Jeff mumbled as he pulled on his jacket.

Olivia felt sorry for him. “He doesn't hate you. He misses Mrs. Manning. She used to carry him around like a baby. She'd play with him for hours. That was all he knew. Then, suddenly, she's gone, and there you are. You know squat about dogs, and he knows it. He did all those destructive things to get your attention, but you were too busy. I told you, dogs have feelings. Think about that on the ride home.”

Jeff nodded. And then he didn't know why he said what he did, but he said, “What are you going to do when I leave?”

Olivia laughed. “Shovel my driveway. Not really shovel, I have a snowblower. I might make a cake. Then I'm going to go on the Net to see if I can find Jill and Gwen.”

“Sounds like you're going to be busy. Okay, I'll see you when I see you. Bye.”

Olivia stared at the solid mahogany door after it closed. He was nice. She liked him. He could make her laugh, something Clarence couldn't do. She shrugged as she headed to her office instead of the kitchen. The cake could wait. So could the driveway.

Olivia looked at the time on the computer when she logged on—
10:30
.

It said
2:30
when Alice started to paw at her leg. Olivia rubbed at her eyes and stretched her neck and arms. She'd been at it for four hours. She got up, let the dogs out, checked the soup, then got out everything she would need to bake the cake. It was still snowing lightly, but there was no real accumulation.

Her thoughts raced as she worked steadily. She'd found forty people with the name Jillian Davis and twenty-seven with the name Gwendolyn Nolan. She was unable to tell if any of the women had attended Ole Miss. She'd e-mailed the Alumni Association of the university to see if she could get any information about the two women. If she'd had Adrian Ames's social security number, she would have been able to log on to the site, but she'd been blocked. Maybe on Monday, after she explored the contents of Adrian Ames's safe, she could call the association and get more details. Unless, of course, Jill and Gwen had cut all ties to Ole Miss.

The bank where Allison had worked was still where it had been almost forty years ago and was currently run by the grandson of the man Allison had worked for during her student years at the university. On Monday Olivia planned to take a trip to the library and go through old newspapers to see how the bank had handled the robbery. How had those three women gotten away with robbing a bank? They must have had nerves of steel. Just the thought of the guts it would take to rob a bank blew Olivia's mind.

She turned off the mixer, scraped the batter into a cake pan, and slid the pan into the oven. After cleaning up her mess, she called her father, having fogotten that he was probably out with his charter. She'd hoped he would call when he got home, but he hadn't.
Out of sight, out of mind.
The thought saddened her. She felt even sadder when the answering machine spoke to her. She hung up, not bothering to leave a message. She felt so desperate to talk to someone she was tempted to call Clarence just to hear a human voice other than her own. That particular thought lasted all of two seconds before she put on her jacket and headed for the garage and the snowblower.

Olivia was back in the house in thirty-eight minutes, just as the buzzer announced that the cake was done. She put it on a wire rack to cool and turned on the television to see what was going on in the world. Nothing was happening that could be characterized as a crisis, so she headed back to her little office and the computer and worked till it was time to feed the dogs, at six o'clock.

Had Jill Davis and Gwen Nolan dropped off the face of the earth? Had they changed their names? Were they in hiding? Olivia was convinced that Allison had gone into hiding after the robbery. Why else would she have divorced her husband, abandoned her child, and changed her name?

Fear, that's why.

Olivia set down the dogs' bowls and called her father again.
Surely, he'll answer by now,
she thought as she looked at the clock. As before, she got the answering machine. She called his cell phone. He picked up on the second ring.
He must be at the dock
. The noise in the background was deafening, the raucous laughter of men having a good time. She shouted to be heard over the din. “Dad, it's Olivia.”

“Is something wrong, honey?”

“I want to know about Gwen and Jill,” she bellowed. When there was no response, she repeated herself. Was it her imagination, or did his voice hold a trace of annoyance when he answered?

“Ollie, that was forty years ago. They were girls. I hardly knew them. I'm sure you're going to find everything you need to know when you speak with the lawyer or go to the house.”

Olivia felt like a chastised child. Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, Dad, I guess I called you at a bad time. Sorry,” she mumbled. The next thing she knew, the connection was broken. Angry with herself, she hung up the phone and let the dogs back in. They raced through the house, barking and growling at one another.

Now what am I supposed to do? Feel sorry for myself?
Maybe what was
really
bothering her was the fact that Jeff Bannerman hadn't called her. It didn't look as if he was going to make the trip back to Winchester. With that in mind, she started to pick the meat off the chicken and drop it back into the pot. Water was boiling for noodles. Chicken soup required noodles.

It was seven fifty-five when she set the table for herself. She was ravenous. She was ladling the rich-looking broth into her bowl when her doorbell rang, causing the dogs to go wild. She ran after them, hoping against hope that it was Jeff and not one of her neighbors. Her smile was of the megawatt variety when she saw the lawyer standing in the doorway with a huge box in his hands. “You're just in time,” she said happily. He smiled, and her heart turned over.

“I'm starved!” He grinned as he dumped Cecil's gear out onto the floor. The dogs looked at it, sniffed it, then both males lifted their respective legs and marked it before walking away.

“Oh well!” Olivia laughed.

“Yeah, oh well!”

It was bitter cold when Jeff steered his BMW up the long, winding road that led to Adrian Ames's estate. Tall, fragrant blue spruces lined both sides of the driveway. “It's like being in a forest,” Olivia said as she stretched her neck, trying to see everything.

“Are there people living here?” Jeff asked.

“I don't have a clue. No one has cleared the driveway, so off the top of my head I'd have to say no.”

Jeff slowed the car. “Our first obstacle,” he said, pointing to an electronic gate. The little hut at the side of the road was empty, the door locked. “I don't suppose you have the code, do you?” Olivia shook her head. Jeff lowered the car window and proceeded to punch numbers to no avail. “I guess we have to climb over and hoof it the rest of the way unless you want to call the lawyer and ask him for the combination.”

“Today is Sunday, Jeff. I don't know where he lives. I think we can scale the fence. And then, like you said, we walk the rest of the way.”

Jeff got out of the car, waited for Olivia to get out, and locked it. He cupped his hands together for Olivia to boost her up to a bar that would allow her to climb even farther, then scale the top and drop to the ground. With a thump, she landed in an ungraceful heap in the deep snow. A second later, Jeff landed right next to her but stayed on his feet. He reached out to help her to hers. Together, they continued up the driveway.

“Wow, this is gorgeous! Just how rich was your mother?”

“She's not my mother. Well, she did give birth to me, but she's not what I would call a mother. I would appreciate it if you don't refer to Adrian Ames as my mother. I guess she was pretty rich. Bear in mind how she got rich.”

Jeff stopped in his tracks. “Point taken. Sorry. Do you know if she lived here alone? My mother would positively drool at the idea of having all this room. Look at that house! I bet it has at least twenty rooms. Maybe ten bathrooms, and probably six or seven fireplaces. Want to bet?”

Olivia shivered and snapped, “No.” Looking around, she said, “I wonder if there's an alarm system. Maybe this was a foolish mistake. I don't have a key to get in. I can't imagine the woman leaving a key outside after she went to the trouble to install all this fencing.”

“Well, you own the place, so you can break a window.”

They heard the noise before they saw the monster dog barreling straight for them. Both Jeff and Olivia froze in their tracks, their jaws dropping when the huge dog ground to a halt and showed his massive teeth.

“Down, Brutus. Hold!” barked a voice from the side of the house.

Neither Olivia nor Jeff moved a muscle until a grizzled old man carrying a shotgun came into view. “We don't hold with trespassers around here, folks. You best be turning around and leaving the same way you got here.”

The dog held his stance, his teeth as white as the snow at their feet. Deep, guttural growls could be heard coming from his mouth.

Jeff found his voice first. “I'm Jeff Bannerman. I'm a lawyer. This is Olivia Lowell, Adrian Ames's daughter. She inherited this property. We have a right to be here. We climbed the fence because we couldn't figure out how to work the gates.”

“Power's off on the gates. I'll need to see some identification.” The shotgun didn't move an inch.

Jeff reached into the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew his wallet. Olivia took hers out of her shoulder bag and handed it over. The old man studied both driver's licenses carefully. He handed them back. “What is it you want?”

“To go into the house. And any information you care to give us,” Olivia said. “I never knew Adrian Ames. She abandoned me the day I was born and divorced my father at the same time.”

“I know about you. She talked to me about you. There's no heat on in the house. I'll take care of that and make you both some hot chocolate. You look frozen.”

“I'd appreciate that,” Olivia said. “What about the dog?”

“Brutus listens real good. He won't hurt you as long as you don't do anything you ain't supposed to be doing.”

“Are you the only one working here?” Jeff asked.

The shotgun lowered as the man moved away. “Name's Cyrus Somers. It's just me now. I have a job here for another year, then I'm pensioned off. All the others left after the funeral. Furniture is covered up, utilities are still on. There was no need to keep anyone on, the lawyers said. Miz Ames left generous bequests to all her loyal employees. I'm the oldest, and I been with her from the day she moved in here twenty-five years ago.”

They arrived at the back door. A key ring jangled in the old man's hands. He fiddled with it until he found the right key and fit it into the lock. The door squeaked open.

Olivia thought it was colder inside the house than it was outdoors. The man moved to a small hallway off the kitchen to turn up the thermostat. Brutus stood by the door, his ears flat against his head, his long tail tucked between his legs. “Be warm in a few minutes,” the old man growled.