by Remy, Carole
“It’s uncanny,” Richard marveled.
At first Jimmy was surprised how calmly the lawyer accepted the strange but logical explanation for their recent confusion. Then he remembered that this was the man who had steered him around reefs and through narrow legal passages to immense profits. Richard’s mind was razor sharp and accustomed to rapid rethinking. He wondered how the lawyer would take his next proposal. Jimmy rubbed his hands together and gazed speculatively at his attorney, but Richard preempted his sentence.
“How did you figure out which was the one you liked?” he asked. “I mean whether she was really Aggie or Angela.”
“I looked in the back of the book where they list the activities. Angela was a cheerleader and a member of the art club. Remember the Modigliani book? And Aggie was a library assistant. My hunch is that Angela hatched up the scheme and somehow persuaded her sister to help her out.”
“Why not answer the ad as herself?”
“Unfortunately, I know the answer to your question,” Jimmy admitted reluctantly.
“And…” Richard prompted.
Jimmy thought for a moment. The lawyer would find out soon anyway.
“Angela is a high class hooker in New York City. She goes by the name Angel.”
Richard looked stunned. He dropped his head into his hands. Jimmy could imagine the unwanted pictures that were flashing in the lawyer’s head. Richard never dated, not since the accident. His first night of sex in God knows how long, and she turns out to be a prostitute. He gave him a few minutes to recover.
“I think she’s trying to get out of the life,” he commented eventually. “That’s why she wants the money.”
“How did you figure all this out?” Richard asked, his head still bowed. “The man I sent didn’t get anywhere.”
“He wasn’t local. The people in the South are pretty close-mouthed to strangers. Before I left for Auburn, I hired the one local detective agency to snoop around the Trout father. The agent got the family’s former address from a bank loan record. While the mother was alive, they had lived in a small town outside Auburn named Waverly. The detective and I went together and interviewed a few neighbors. From there it was easy.”
“And Angela is a prostitute.” Richard winced as he said the word. Then he straightened in his chair and looked Jimmy in the eye.
“Was. I called a New York detective agency and gave them her real name. We already had the box number. They got me the rest of the information within a couple of hours. She started out as a secretary for one of the top call girl outfits and moved up from there.”
“What makes you think she’s quitting?”
“She’s here for one thing,” Jimmy said. “She could be making three hundred an hour in New York but she’s not.”
The lawyer winced again.
“You’re hardly the person to scoff at second chances, Richard,” Jimmy reminded him.
The lawyer was pale now.
“I know that,” he admitted. “But prostitution?”
Jimmy dropped the topic. If Richard couldn’t grab happiness, then let him wallow. He recalled the plan the lawyer had momentarily distracted him from. He stood up and leaned forward across the desk.
“What do you say we give the girls a run for their money?” he offered.
“What do you mean?”
“Revenge.”
The single word floated across the silence between the two men. Jimmy watched as the sense penetrated Richard’s ears and a slow broad smile creased his face. The lawyer leaned back.
“What do you propose?”
“Let’s see how far they are willing to go,” Jimmy suggested. Richard nodded and he continued. “We won’t tell them we’ve figured out their plot.”
“You need to at least hint that you know something,” Richard amended. “Give them something to worry about.”
“I imagine Dad has told them about the man he met on the beach. They should be shaking in their beautiful little shoes.”
“Are you clear on your goals?” Richard asked lawyer-like.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to punish them? Void the contract?” Richard thought for a moment. “That should be easy.”
Jimmy shook his head.
“I want Aggie,” he explained. “I could happily strangle the Angela twin, but I have different plans for my Aggie.”
Richard looked thoughtful. When he spoke, it was quietly.
“What do you plan for tonight?”
“If Aggie comes, I’ll tease her a little, but I’m not going to waste the night. We’ll end up in bed screwing our brains out.”
“And if Angela comes?”
Jimmy shrugged.
“I have a thought,” Richard offered with a sly smile.
“Go ahead.”
“Say you think she’s unbalanced, a dual personality. Pretend to try to get the real Aggie to come out.”
Jimmy chuckled and then his trademark belly laugh rumbled out. He walked around the desk and clapped Richard on the back.
“You ought to be writing sitcoms, my boy,” he boomed. “That’s perfect.”
Jimmy wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell at a glance which sister arrived for the evening. As the young woman stepped from the taxi, he thought perhaps she was Aggie and his lips turned up in a lascivious smile. She was dressed Aggie-style in a long corduroy skirt and stylish boots. She greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. When he helped her out of her coat in the elevator, he saw that her blouse was a peasant style with colorful embroidery. She looked nothing like a hooker. His hopes rose another notch. When they stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of his apartment, he pulled her into his arms.
The moment their mouths touched he knew she was Angela. Instead of softening and flattening, her lips remained cool and aloof. Hot anger boiled up in Jimmy at the deception but before it broke through, the humor of the situation overtook him. So, he had just kissed his future sister-in-law. The thought took him by surprise. The word ‘marriage’ hadn’t entered his mind until that errant thought. He pushed it aside for later consideration. He put his hands on Angela’s shoulders and held her away from his body. Then he took her hand and led her toward the living room.
“Can’t we sit in the library?” Angela asked.
“Aggie,” he murmured. “My sweet.”
He ignored her request and pulled her down beside him on the sofa. She inched her leg away from his thigh. Jimmy smiled.
“Aggie,” he murmured lovingly again. “Aggie, I know you’re in there somewhere. Send the evil twin away and come out.”
Angela bridled as though struck and Jimmy grinned inside. ‘Evil twin’ was a masterful touch.
“What evil twin?” Angela asked coldly. The real Aggie would have attacked him by now.
“My poor dear,” Jimmy continued as he lifted Angela across his lap and held her like a child. He smoothed back her hair. “I understand.”
“You understand what?”
His odd words were beginning to crack Angela’s cool facade.
“I understand your disorder,” Jimmy explained. “Aggie, sweetheart, I consulted a doctor from the psychiatric unit at Vancouver General Hospital. He explained…”
“You what?” Angela interrupted. She sat up rigid in his arms. Then her face stilled and she relaxed back into his embrace. She continued sweetly. “What did he tell you?”
Jimmy saluted her quick thinking. Maybe Angela had promised Aggie she would try to avoid sex tonight. Feigning insanity would work. But then why had Angela been the one to come? Had something happened to the real Aggie? Jimmy pushed the worry aside. She was probably scared, he decided. After last night and Angela sleeping with Richard thinking she was Aggie, she probably thought he would kill her. If it had been true, he would have. Since he hadn’t brought it up, Angela must think he didn’t know she had captivated his lawyer. Good.
“He told me you probably suffer from a disorder called multiple personality sy
ndrome,” Jimmy belatedly answered Angela’s question. He hoped the psycho-babble sounded authentic. “You must have had a dreadful childhood, my poor sweetheart.”
“No,” Angela protested. “I love my parents. I had a good childhood.”
“Maybe an early death?” Jimmy suggested. “Maybe you were born a twin and the other one died when you were young and the trauma left psychic scars.”
Jimmy regretted his words when he noticed the pallor that swept Angela’s face. The death of her twin was too awful for her to contemplate. They must be very close. Or maybe she was just worried that he had strayed so close to the truth.
“No,” she whispered.
“Are you aware that you have two personalities?” Jimmy prodded. A devil prompted him to add, “One’s an angel.”
Color flared back into Angela’s face with Jimmy’s use of her hooker name. Good. Though he wanted to punish her, he didn’t like to see her so pale.
“Tell me about my two personalities,” she challenged.
“One is fiery hot. She’s the one I think of as the real Aggie,” Jimmy explained. “She’s the one I like.”
“And the other?”
“The other is cool and collected. I’m afraid I don’t like this persona, the one you are now, nearly as well.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears shimmered in Angela’s eyes. Jimmy wondered how good an actress she really was. Could this be part of the act?
“I’m only one person,” she continued and a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry you don’t like me.”
Maybe he had hurt her feelings. Jimmy wiped away the tear with the flat of his index finger.
“I’d like you if you weren’t hiding the real Aggie,” he offered. The devil egged him on. “I want to help you, sweetheart. Let me book an appointment with the psychiatrist.”
Angela stood and shook her head. She was again the cool, in charge twin.
“I don’t need a psychiatrist.” The words came out clipped, a trace of New York slipping through. She must have realized the slip because she added in a southern drawl, “Jimmy, sweetheart, I appreciate you being concerned about me.”
“Let’s go to bed and work things out there,” Jimmy suggested to see what she would do. His answer was a stricken but mute appeal. He took pity. “No, maybe you should just go back to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She looked almost ready to collapse in relief. Jimmy’s pity hardened as he pictured the long empty night ahead.
“Banish this cool Aggie,” he warned Angela. “Send the hot-tempered one tomorrow.”
“Or else?” Angela challenged.
Jimmy admired her guts.
“Or else the contract’s off,” he stated. “I’m sure Richard can find a clause to void the agreement, given your persistent non-performance.”
If Jimmy had wanted to rattle Angela, he had succeeded. He wondered whether her ebbing color came more from the threatened loss of the contract or from his mention of her last night’s companion. For Richard’s sake, he hoped it was the latter. Whichever, Angela quickly recovered herself.
“My non-performance, as you put it, has been with your agreement,” she asserted.
Suddenly Jimmy was tired of the game, the deception.
“Go back to the hotel, …”
He had almost said ‘Angela’. Time to get her out of the apartment before he slipped. He helped her into her coat. A few minutes later as he handed her into the taxi, he debated telling her everything. He could go back with her to the hotel, find the real Aggie and bring her to the apartment. But no, he would give the schemers one more night, one more chance to come clean. If Aggie didn’t come tomorrow night, if she didn’t confess to the whole devious plot … Jimmy’s thoughts stalled. What would he do? He would love her anyway, he realized. Right after he strangled her.
Chapter 21
Somehow, miraculously, they had made it through seven nights of the contract. Aggie woke on the eighth morning with that thought foremost in her mind. She lay with her eyes still closed and listened to Angela’s breathing on the second bed. Andrew had been granted the sofa. Five more nights, she thought. She drew in a deep breath and then remembered to be surprised that she could breathe. Her flu must have finally broken.
Aggie checked herself internally. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. A good sign. Her eyes were heavy with sleep but at least they didn’t burn with fever. Aggie swallowed. Easy. No lump, no rasp. She could go to Jimmy tonight. They could sleep together. Aggie smiled when she remembered the scope that simple word covered. She doubted they would really sleep at all.
Angela had told her of Jimmy’s suspicions, that he thought she had a dual personality. In a way, his misperception made their deception easier. Aggie felt a pang of remorse for deceiving him, but after all, this was a man who thought he could buy a woman. He deserved a trick or two with his treats. She would play along, maybe even agree to see a psychiatrist, then she would screw his brains off till he didn’t even remember the offer. Her smile broadened as she opened her eyes.
Drat. She heard Andrew snore in the living room. Her young former lover would have to go. She wondered how she had ever thought herself in love with him. He was sweet, but he wasn’t even a man yet. Someday he’d fall for a cute little redhead and they’d make adorable babies together. Aggie’s exasperation faded with the picture. She hated to just dump him on his ass. He really was sweet.
Aggie slid out of bed, pulled her bathrobe around her and padded to the restroom. When she opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, she sniffed the air. Coffee. Somebody else was awake.
“Hi!” Andrew greeted her as she walked into the tiny kitchen. He kissed her on the forehead.
“Morning breath,” he explained. “Do you want to go out for breakfast?”
“How did you know I wasn’t Angela?” Aggie asked.
“You let me kiss you,” Andrew answered with a grin. “She would have walked back into the bedroom the minute she saw me.”
“Is she that bad?” Aggie asked. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Andrew replied, then his male ego butted in. “She’s probably jealous.”
Aggie almost laughed. Instead she took too large a swallow of coffee and burned her mouth.
“Do you want to go out to breakfast?” Andrew repeated, oblivious to her agony as she spit the hot liquid into the sink.
“No,” Aggie glared then she relented. “Why don’t you go to the bakery and get us some cinnamon rolls?”
“Sounds good to me,” Andrew agreed. “I’ll get some bagels for Angela. Can you lend me some money?”
Andrew’s impecuniousness had never bothered Aggie before. Now his dependence nearly drove her up the wall. Still, he had remember the bagels for Angela. Aggie dug in her purse and pulled out a colorful bill.
“What’s that one?” she asked.
“I think it’s a ten.” Andrew examined the paper closely and found the numeral. “Yup. Ten ought to do it. I’ll be right back.”
Aggie took her almost drinkable coffee into the living room.
“When are you going to tell the boy wonder to go home?” Angela’s sleepy voice drifted out of the bedroom. She was awake.
“Don’t call him the boy wonder,” Aggie called back. “He’s twenty-five.”
“A baby.” Angela wandered into the room scratching her hair. “I need a shower.”
Aggie’s twin filled a mug and brought her coffee into the living room where she sat on the sofa.
“I thought you wanted a shower,” Aggie commented.
“Coffee first,” Angela explained. “So I won’t drown.”
“It’s going to work after all, isn’t it Boo?” Aggie couldn’t quite dampen the hope in her voice. Five nights with Jimmy. She would think about the sixth night later.
“Cross your fingers,” Angela agreed. “You have to tell the boy wonder to go.”
“His name is Andrew. He’s getting you bagels.”
“Maybe he can stay. I’ll call him bagel boy.” The twins laughed.
By the time Andrew returned, Aggie was in the shower. Angela convinced him for a few minutes that she was her twin. When he tried to put his hand up her sweater, she called a halt to the charade. Aggie emerged hot and clean to a sulking young ex-boyfriend who didn’t know it yet.
Angela left with their father and Mary to the conservatory at Queen Elizabeth Park. Aggie spent the morning listening to Andrew’s complaints about her sister. She finally took him in desperation to Science World, really a child’s amusement, but he was fascinated by the ingenious displays. Aggie found her interest caught despite herself and spent a pleasant afternoon learning about acoustics and dinosaurs. She dragged Andrew out and back to the hotel at five o’clock. Zero hour approached.
Without explanation, she left Andrew alone in the living room at 5:30 and disappeared into the bedroom. When she emerged dressed in a short tight jean skirt and a long pale peach sweater, her resolution was firm. She would tell him now that he had to go back to Cincinnati, that their association was through. As she turned the corner into the living room, she saw that Andrew had fallen asleep on the sofa. She breathed a sigh of relief and guilt and left him a note on the coffee table. She couldn’t tell him to leave in a note, so the words just read, Be back later. Don’t worry.
Don’t worry. She repeated the words to herself like a mantra as she directed the taxi this way and that. The charade of a roundabout cab drive seemed redundant at this stage, but Angela still hoped to keep their hotel location a secret. Aggie secretly suspected that their father had already spilled the beans to his seawall friend Jimmy. Jimmy. Mmmm. Aggie leaned back into the seat and imagined the coming evening.
Jimmy waited inside the lobby as Aggie had expected, but with him was another man. The stranger was almost a dead ringer for photographs Aggie had seen of Sigmund Freud, tall, thin and stooped with a sad knowing face and a pipe. Either Freud or Sherlock Holmes without his hat. Jimmy opened the door for Aggie and then introduced them.
