Trading Places

by Fern Michaels

“I don’t believe that,” Aggie said quietly.

  “Well, guess what, Aggie, Gray and I don’t believe it either. I told Gray as soon as you got back you’d find out who killed our son. Tom loved you so much. Two weeks before…before…he started coming by almost every day. Gray said something was on his mind, and he was trying to figure out a way to tell us. He never did. I know my boy, and he was troubled. I was hoping you’d know what it was all about.”

  If Tom was troubled, it could mean a variety of things. Maybe he’d wanted to tell them that he and Aggie had broken up. Maybe he knew she’d put in for a transfer and wanted to talk to his parents about that. The third possibility was that he wanted to confide in his parents about what he either knew or suspected was going on in the department.

  “I wish I knew, Mrs. Madsen. That night is a little vague in my mind. I remember Tom’s saying it didn’t smell right. I remember that clear as a bell. I tried to help him, I really did, but then I got hit. I’ve come to the only conclusion possible—we were set up. Do you have Tom’s things?”

  “Yes. Gray made them turn everything over to him that very night. Everything is in a box in my closet. Well, almost everything. We had a break-in shortly after Tom…passed on. Gray and I went to a senior citizens’ meeting, and that’s when it happened. In broad daylight. I have to say the police were here within minutes when we called them. The only things they took were my pearls and Gray’s watch and twenty-seven dollars Gray had left on the dresser. They even opened the box of Tom’s things and rummaged through it the way they rummaged through the box of papers I keep on the top shelf.

  “I can show you Tom’s things if you like. I can look at them and touch them now. I couldn’t in the beginning. Would you like something of Tom’s?”

  She didn’t, but she said, “Yes, perhaps his key chain. I gave it to him for his birthday last year.” Virginia nodded as she led the way down a short hall and up the steps to the second floor. She headed straight for her bedroom closet, where she opened a box that said STAPLES on the side.

  Aggie almost fainted when she peered inside. She imagined she could smell Tom’s aftershave. When Virginia said, “Tom’s things,” Aggie had assumed it was things like his keys, his wallet, his watch and whatever was in his locker at the station. She didn’t expect to see his bloody clothes. She backed away, her face white with shock.

  “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.” Virginia quickly jammed the lid back on the box and led Aggie back to the stairs, her plump arms around her shoulders. “Sit down, dear, and put your head between your knees. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. I had the same reaction when Gray showed me…Tom’s things. There was just so much blood. I can’t bear to throw the box away, and yet I feel ghoulish keeping it.”

  “Did I hear you right before, Mrs. Madsen, when you said almost everything was in the box? Do you have something of Tom’s that you took out of the box?”

  “Yes, his little notebook.”

  Aggie’s heart kicked up a beat as she looked around the tidy little kitchen. It was homey and cozy, with a green fern hanging over the sink and little clay pots of herbs on the windowsill. Cheerful strawberry-patterned wallpaper adorned the walls. Small rugs by the sink and stove were the same color as the strawberries. Even the salt and pepper shakers were ceramic strawberries. Virginia Madsen must like strawberries.

  She watched as Virginia walked over to the counter, where there was a stack of cookbooks propped up against the side of the refrigerator that jutted out past the counter. She waddled back to the table with a four-inch-thick Betty Crocker cookbook. She smiled when she turned it over and flipped open the back of it. Aggie looked down at a bulging pocket that held recipes and a little notebook. “I knew you would want this when you came here. I hope you can make more sense of it than Gray and I could. It’s gibberish to us.”

  “I’ll take it home and study it and compare it to my own. Somebody ransacked my house while I was away. My house is bugged, too. Just so you know, Mrs. Madsen. Your son…Tom…Tom was a good cop.”

  “He said you were the best. He told his dad he’d rather partner with you than any guy on the force. Nothing would have made Gray and me happier than to have you for our daughter-in-law.”

  Tears blurred Aggie’s vision. Tom hadn’t confided that part of his life to them. They didn’t know she’d severed the relationship. She saw no reason to tell them now. She didn’t want to cast one iota of suspicion on their dead son. Whichever way it played out, the Madsens as well as she would have to live with it.

  Aggie finished her soda as they made small talk. “Gray is going to be upset that he missed you. A friend took him golfing today. I like it when he isn’t under my feet all day. Retirement isn’t all they say it is.” She sighed. “I wish our daughter didn’t live so far away. Gray’s pension and social security only allow for one trip to Washington state a year. I miss the grandchildren. When Tom was alive he’d stop by once or twice a week, and if he was off on Sundays, he’d always come to dinner. For Christmas last year, he gave us two airline tickets to Seattle. Gray and I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

  “Are you lonely, Mrs. Madsen?”

  “Yes and no. I read a lot. We go for walks. We garden. Gray and I joined a senior citizens’ group. They’re a bunch of stiffs, I’m sorry to say. They are so sedentary. Bingo isn’t my idea of a night out. I guess I shouldn’t say things like that. All the ladies in my group want to do is have bake sales so they can eat it all, gain weight, and become even more sedentary.”

  Aggie stood up. “I’ll be back. I’m not sure when, Mrs. Madsen. If anyone comes by, some of the men from the department, and they ask you about me, don’t tell them anything. Whatever you do, don’t tell them about the notebook.”

  “We won’t say a word. Call me if you need anything. Gray and I are always here. I made a Boston cream pie this morning. Would you like to take some home?”

  “No thanks. I don’t really have a sweet tooth.” Aggie hugged the little woman, said good-bye, and herded Gus out to the Honda. It was going to be interesting to see if she had a tail on the way back. Having Tom’s notebook gave her a small amount of courage.

  Mindful of the bug that was on the bottom of the driver’s side door, Aggie punched in Alex’s phone number on her stationary car phone. “Hi, it’s me. I was wondering if you’d like to come over for supper. I’m on my way home now and should be there in thirty minutes or so. I went to see Mr. and Mrs. Madsen, but Mr. Madsen wasn’t home. Virginia and I had a nice chat. She misses Tom terribly. He was her only son. She told me he used to go home on Sundays for dinner if he was off. Listen to this. She told me someone broke into her house and stole her pearls, her husband’s watch, and some money. Why do people do things like that to older people? They’re barely squeaking by on Mr. Madsen’s pension and his social security.

  “So, do you want to come for dinner or not? You are not supposed to ask what I’m cooking. Think of it as a surprise. Six o’clock is fine. See ya.

  “How does chicken parm sound, Gus? I’ll make you some without the sauce. Tomato sauce is not good for dogs. I might even whip up a dessert now that I don’t have to count calories.”

  Gus plopped both his paws on her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. “I’m going to take that as approval of my menu. I think I’m being followed. Damn, I am. It’s the same car that followed me when we started out. Someone must think I’m important enough to watch. Wonder why?” Gus tweaked her ear. She laughed.

  Chapter Four

  Lizzie Jade, AKA every name in the book, paced the spacious suite of rooms. She alternated between excitement and dread. This was the day she was moving out of the Ritz-Carlton and into Aggie’s house. Her agile brain sifted and collated all the facts and directions Aggie had jammed down her throat. Always a quick study, she didn’t think she would have any trouble posing as her sister. She hoped this gig would be short-lived.

  Atlanta was boring. Just how much could one person shop? She already had everything under t
he sun. She was also ticked off that nothing on this gig was comped. She’d been spending her own money left and right. It had been years since she’d done that. If it wasn’t free, she didn’t want any part of it. Whatever it was.

  These last ten days she’d been living like a normal person, going to bed at ten o’clock and getting up at seven to watch the early-morning television shows, as opposed to going to bed around four in the morning and sleeping till late afternoon. She’d had no idea who Katie Couric was until nine days ago. On top of that, she’d lost nine pounds.

  Lizzie plopped down on the love seat. Life certainly was strange. In a million years she never would have thought she’d be sitting in a suite of rooms at the Ritz-Carlton in Atlanta while she waited to turn into a cop. She felt like Cinderella in reverse.

  Her eyes started to burn when she thought of Aggie and how close she’d come to dying. They were twins. Why hadn’t she felt something, anything, during that time of crisis? Normally they were tuned to one another. Had she become so self-centered, so into herself, that she’d lost that special connection to Aggie? Was it time to stop and smell the roses? Obviously the answer was yes.

  Aggie was looking better with each passing day, but Lizzie could tell that Aggie still didn’t have her old stamina and vitality back. She blinked back the tears that filled her eyes. “Don’t you worry, Aggie, I’m going to kick ass and take names later. I’m going to make this come out right for you,” she mumbled.

  Lizzie looked down at the papers scattered over the coffee table and floor. Her methodical mind had put everything into chronological order as she memorized each and every thing Aggie had said was important. Barring any unforeseen complications along the way, she felt confident she could pull off the switch with no one the wiser. She’d gone so far as to set up an escape hatch known as Plan B, more for Aggie’s sake than her own, if the situation got really hot and dangerous. She didn’t want to think about Plan B. At least not right now.

  She would not be sorry to leave this place. As nice as it was, it was still a hotel suite. She liked her own things, didn’t like living out of a suitcase. The bottom line was she missed Vegas and her exciting life. She sighed with relief when her cell phone rang. Her greeting was guarded, her voice low. She literally squealed when she heard her friend Noreen’s voice. They jabbered the way friends do about everything and anything. “Girl, if you can take some time off, come stay with me for a while. Bring the girls along. It’ll be one big slumber party. Not till next week, though. You will! Great! No, no, I’m fine. I have to help out my sister. Yeah, the cop. She got wounded, and I didn’t even know it. That’s the way it is. We aren’t going to be partying, Noreen, just hanging out. Great, call me when you know what time your flight gets in.”

  Lizzie dusted her hands dramatically. This was one little secret Aggie didn’t need to know about. Plus, the girls just might come in handy. All four were showgirls at the Mirage. Big-busted, longlegged, and beautiful. Things were looking up.

  She started to pace again as she waited for Aggie, but this time there was more gusto to her movements. Her cell phone rang again. She grimaced when she heard the voice on the other end of the phone. This was going to be sticky. “Hello, Mr. Papadopolus.” Usually, she called him Papa or Pap. “I’m sorry you’ve been looking for me, Pap. I’m in Atlanta. My sister managed to get herself shot up in a stakeout. She’s a cop. She needs me right now. Yes, that’s what I always say, family comes first. How long will I be here? As long as she needs me. She got shot up pretty bad.” She listened, a frown building between her brows. She bit down on her lower lip at what she was hearing. “I’d go for it, Pap, but this is cop territory. Gambling is not legal here as you well know. No, I can’t fly back. My sister is depending on me. Here! You want to set up a game here! I need to think about that, Pap. Really think about that. How much? You’re kidding, right? You’re not. How soon is soon? I’m not even going to have time to spit in the next two weeks. The third week is iffy, but it might be doable. Tell me how much again. Hmmmm. I’ll get back to you.”

  Lizzie’s heart was beating so fast she had to sit down. Every cell in her body told her she could pull off a high-stakes poker game. Every corpuscle backed it up. If she ’fessed up and told Aggie, Aggie the cop would nix it. She was just pretending to be Aggie the cop, she reminded herself. Think Plan B, Lizzie. Think Plan B.

  Her heart was beating normally, and the color was back in her face when Aggie arrived thirty minutes later. “You’re looking good this morning, Lizzie. You must have slept well.”

  “I’ve never had so much sleep in my life. And I’ve lost weight. I know every damn show there is on television. I bet you don’t even know Hardball comes on at five o’clock in the morning. It’s a rerun from the day before. I bet you don’t even know there’s a cable network news war going on either. That O’Reilly guy on the Fox network is a piece of work. He scares me because I think like he does. I could do what he does with more panache. I think I’m going to look into that when I get back to Vegas.”

  Aggie had no idea what she was talking about. “Are you ready?”

  “Honey, I’ve been ready from the minute I got here. Please don’t make me go through the whole thing again. I have it down pat. Trust me. Thank God this is the last time I have to wear this stupid wig. I’ll meet you at the vet’s, where we will change clothes and the wig. I will pick up my new companion, Alice, who you said would love me on sight. At that moment, I become you and you become me.

  “Remember that time you wanted me to switch up with you when Dad said he smelled cigarette smoke on your clothes because you were smoking behind the garage with Putts Peters and Louie Molino? You said I was the better fibber, so you sent me in to do battle for you. I didn’t even have to lie. Well, technically it was a lie. As I recall, you took a shower, washed your hair and brushed your teeth about twenty times in the span of an hour. Ah, the good old days. No reason to think it won’t work for us again. Switching identities I mean.

  “I go straight to your house, settle in, and report to work Monday morning. In the meantime you are off on a lark wearing the blond wig to raise organic carrots while I corral the bad guys. See, I remembered everything.”

  “You screw this up, and I’ll kill you, Lizzie.”

  “Just for that, I’m not going to tell you about a guy I know who will buy all your damn organic carrots. Sooner or later you’re going to realize it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” Lizzie sniffed. She donned the blond wig.

  “Are you sure that friend you’ve been hanging around with is going to pick up my luggage and keep it till this is over? I have some pricey, high-end stuff in those bags. Just remember, sister dear, you’re on the hook for the contents.”

  “I’m sure. Did you check out?”

  “I did it on the TV. They even brought up my change. They’ll hold my bags till four o’clock. What time is the friend coming to pick them up?”

  “Any minute now. Move your tail, Lizzie, and let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Wait a minute, Aggie. Let’s cut the bull, okay. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself. I’m as good a shot as you are. I got my brown belt six months before you did. I’m used to walking around with eyes in the back of my head. You’ll make me really happy if you tell me you’re going to concentrate on those organic carrots and stop worrying about me. I really do know someone who will buy them from you when it’s time to dig them up.

  “I have my laptop, you have yours. Both are new, so no one can tap into them. Yet. Mail from me to you goes to General Delivery. Both of us are dealing strictly in cash from here on in although I don’t understand why, and at this point it doesn’t really matter to me. You’re the cop. Oh, yes, we check in using our cell phones, too.” Lizzie paused and looked her twin directly in the eye. “And remember everything I told you about Plan B!”

  Aggie nodded solemnly.

  “Okay, let’s do it!” Lizzie held up her hand, palm outward toward Aggie, who gave
it a resounding slap. “I know you can do it, Lizzie. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. I’m allowed to worry a little. We’re sisters, remember.”

  Lizzie Jade settled herself on the double chair in Aggie’s living room, her new roommate Alice beside her. The dog looked at her adoringly before she lowered her head to lick at her hand lightly. Lizzie scratched her behind the ears the way Aggie told her to. The dog wiggled closer. She felt warm and comfortable.

  Woman and dog. Woman’s best friend. Things could be worse.

  Lizzie worked the remote control and finally settled down to watch Hannity and Colmes on the Fox network. She’d heard all the news they were rehashing earlier, but other than watching a stupid sitcom there wasn’t much else on the tube that interested her. Her thoughts started to drift to the phone call she’d received at the hotel from Anthony Papadopolus. She might be able to pull it off with a little help from her friends. It wasn’t as if Aggie got a lot of company who stopped by uninvited. She could close the shutters, have the players arrive separately. A pretend party wasn’t out of the question in case the neighbors got nosy or colleagues got curious. She was, after all, a party girl. She frowned. She was a party girl. Aggie was a stick in the mud, and no way could she be considered a party girl. She frowned. She needed to rethink her plan.