Fool Me Once

by Fern Michaels

  She wrote down her cell phone number and sealed the envelope.

  “You come back anytime, little lady. I like the company. Winters are bad for us old folk. Summertime, we can sit on our porches and chew the fat. Now it’s just television—though it isn’t so bad now that my son bought me a computer. I play poker all day long with my buddies. Still, it isn’t the same thing as talking to people.”

  Olivia shook hands with the old man, thanked him for the coffee, and left the house. She taped the envelope securely on the side door of Jill Laramie’s house and knocked as loudly as she could to alert the person inside that she was back. Then she left.

  Thirty minutes later she was at the News Tribune asking for anyone named Mary Louise. She was told they only had one such person, Mary Louise Rafferty, and she was in Classifieds. The receptionist pressed a number, spoke quietly, and a few minutes later a pleasant freckle-faced young woman bounded into the lobby. She was dressed warmly in wool slacks and a sky-blue sweater. She smiled a greeting. “Can I help you?”

  Olivia held out her hand. “Olivia Lowell. I live in Winchester, Virginia. Is there someplace we can go where we can talk in private?”

  Green eyes appraised Olivia. Newshound instincts. “About what?” the young woman asked carefully.

  There was a wholesomeness, an air of honesty about Mary Louise. Olivia liked her instantly. “Your mother. I went to her house, but she didn’t answer the door. I spoke to her neighbor, Paul Hemmings. He told me to come here. I really need to talk to you. Your mother and my mother were friends a long time ago. Allison Matthews was her name. She died a few weeks ago. She wanted me to find her two old friends.”

  Frowning, Mary Louise Rafferty led Olivia across the lobby to an ornate bench under a bushy fica tree and a pond of sorts, with trickling water. Both women sat down. Mary Louise clasped her hands together. Olivia noticed the wedding ring and commented on it. Mary Louise smiled weakly and said, “I have seven-year-old twins. I only work the hours they’re in school. Now, tell me how I can help you.”

  “Tell me how I can get in touch with your mother. Does she have a phone number you can give me or an e-mail address? If the number is unlisted, perhaps you could call her and pave the way for me. This really is important. Perhaps important isn’t the right word. Crucial might be more like it.”

  Mary Louise looked torn. Then, “I can call her for you, but I doubt it will do any good. My mother is…Well, she’s different. She’s reclusive. She never goes outside the house. Never. She won’t let anyone in because she’s afraid of germs. Very phobic. She’s never seen my children in person. I send pictures. I know how weird and strange this is going to sound, but I haven’t seen my mother since she moved to High Street, and that’s almost twenty years now. Needless to say, we are not close, but she is my mother. I tried for years but…I finally gave up. I’m closer to my father. He’s a wonderful grandfather to my kids, too. Unfortunately, he lives in Arizona, but I can give you his phone number and e-mail address. My mother has e-mail, and that’s how she does her banking and ordering. Deliveries are just left at the door. I guess this sounds pretty bizarre to you.”

  Olivia made a sound that was supposed to be laughter. “You want to hear about bizarre, try this one for weird and bizarre. My mother gave birth to me, then told my father she didn’t want it. I was the it. That same day she said she wanted a divorce. My father never saw her again. He raised me, told me she was dead. Then a few days ago a lawyer came to the house to tell me my mother had died a few weeks ago. Now, that’s weird.”

  “Damn. You’re right, that is weird. I never knew anything about my mother’s friends. Maybe there was something in the water in Mississippi back then.” Mary Louise gave a rueful laugh.

  “There’s another friend,” said Olivia, “named Gwen. She lives in South Carolina. I’m going there in a few days to talk with her. Do you know anything about her?”

  Mary Louise grimaced. “No. I never heard the name. I wonder if she’s as weird as your mother and mine. I just bet she is,” she said, answering her own question. “My father has a saying, birds of a feather flock together.”

  Olivia laughed. “My father says the same thing. I agree with you—I bet she’s just as strange. I left a note on your mother’s door. Do you think she’ll read it?”

  The young woman shrugged. “I don’t know. I used to worry about her, but I got over that real quick when she didn’t even want to see my kids. My husband gets very upset if I even mention her name. Wait here, Olivia, I’ll go back to the office and give her a call, and I’ll write down my e-mail address for you.”

  Olivia walked around the spacious, drafty lobby, looking at framed headline pictures that graced the walls. She whirled around when she heard her name being called.

  Mary Louise shook her head to indicate her mother wouldn’t agree to talk to Olivia. She handed over a piece of paper. “I put my home phone number on here and the number here at the paper if you want to call me. I know my dad will talk to you. My mother said to tell you the past is past, and she doesn’t care one way or the other that your mother died. I’m sorry. My mother is very blunt.”

  Olivia’s shoulders slumped. “Will you at least give me her e-mail address? I’ll never say where I got it. I promise.” Mary Louise looked torn again, but then she nodded and added the address to the bottom of the slip of paper. Olivia thanked her profusely and promised to stay in touch.

  Leaving, Olivia suddenly thought of something and whirled around. “Mary Louise, do you have a cybercafé around here anywhere?”

  “Sure. There’s one in Woodbridge Mall, and another one on Main Street, in town.”

  “How do I get there?” Mary Louise reached for the paper and scribbled directions to both cafés. They said good-bye again.

  Olivia headed out toward Route 1 and followed the directions Mary Louise had given her. Studying the map, she realized the mall was less than a mile from where Jill Laramie lived.

  It took her a good thirty minutes to find the cyberstore after she parked her car in the humongous parking lot. She signed on for computer use, paid the fee, and sat down to write e-mails to both Gill Laramie, Jill’s ex-husband, and Jill herself. Ever mindful of the time, she figured she could wait at least two hours for a return of the e-mail, assuming either Jill or her ex was logged on. After that, she would have to immediately head for the airport if she wanted to avoid rush-hour traffic on the turnpike, return her rental car, and check in. She had no desire to spend the night in New Jersey. She wanted to see Jeff.

  First she wrote to Gill Laramie and gave him her home e-mail address. Assuming he was logged on, he could respond to her there at the cybercafé. She offered a brief run-down of what she wanted but avoided any mention of the bank robbery.

  Olivia anguished over the e-mail to Jill. If Jill was as weird as Mary Louise said she was, there was every possibility she would simply delete the e-mail and not even read it unless Olivia came up with a shocker of an opening line. She also needed a real grabber for the subject line. She finally settled for two words on the subject line. She typed both words in bold, oversize letters. BANK ROBBERY. Her message was short and to the point.

  Think Federal Bureau of Investigation. Think back forty years. I came to your house to talk to you. My mother, Adrian Ames, who you knew as Allison Matthews, died a few weeks ago. She wants me to return her share of the money to the bank in Mississippi. She said she wants you and Gwen to return your shares. Bank robbery is a federal offense, as you know. I need to speak with you. And, you need to think of me as the eight-hundred-pound gorilla where this matter is concerned. I’m enclosing my home phone number and my e-mail address. I will be going to see Gwen this week. You can’t hide from this, Mrs. Laramie. If you decide to run or hide, the FBI will find you. I found you. If you decide to run again, I will find you.

  Olivia signed her name and added her phone number and e-mail address before she logged off and walked out to the mall. At best she had two hours. She shopped, but
her mind was someplace else. She walked out of the St. John store five hundred dollars poorer with a delicious cranberry-colored dress that hugged her body as if it was made for her. In Lord & Taylor she found the perfect shoes and bag. Usually on the frugal side, Olivia realized she’d just spent her entire clothing allowance for the year for a date with Jeff Bannerman. She told herself everything was classic and would last for years and years and she’d get tired of the things before they wore out.

  Olivia made her way back to the cyberstore, paid for computer time, logged on, and was not surprised to find no messages. She logged off, gathered her shopping bags, and headed for her car. It was time to go home, back to Winchester and her dogs. Back to the house to wait for Jeff.

  Olivia grinned from ear to ear when she pulled into her driveway and saw Jeff’s car. She reached for her bags and ran to the house. She was still smiling when she opened the door to see Jeff and the dogs waiting for her. Home sweet home.

  It was a wonderful evening, what was left of it. Jeff had dinner on the table—takeout, but that was okay. It was the company, Olivia thought, that made the meal. They talked about everything and nothing as though they were old and dear friends. They had a beer while they watched David Letterman, laughing and poking each other at some of the silly jokes. It was one-thirty when Olivia showed him to one of her guest rooms. It had been decorated by her father for a male guest, with deep hunter greens, rich browns, and lush burgundy. A man’s room. Even the towels in the bathroom matched the decor in the bedroom. Another one of her father’s favorite things to do—decorating.

  They said good night in the hallway. Just good night, all smiles and shuffling of the feet by both parties until Jeff reached for her and kissed her until her teeth rattled. When they broke apart they eyed one another with stunned surprise. Olivia backed up, and so did Jeff. A moment later he was in his room with the door closed. Olivia found her feet, ordered them to move, and raced to her own room. She was panting when she closed and locked her door. A moment later, she unlocked it. All four dogs were on the bed sitting up on their haunches, looking at her expectantly. Maybe this was a new game.

  She was a sixteen-year-old again as she leaped on the bed. She giggled and laughed as she played with the dogs. Finally, exhausted, she undressed and brushed her teeth before crawling between the covers. She was drifting off to sleep when she realized she hadn’t checked her e-mail. “Who cares,” she muttered sleepily. The dogs moved, circled, scratched, then finally settled down, the two females on Olivia’s right, the two males on her left, their little heads pointed outward. Guarding their mistress.

  At five-thirty in the morning, Olivia and Jeff eyed each other warily until Olivia burst out laughing. Jeff joined in, his face pink.

  “Do you want some breakfast?” Olivia asked.

  “Can’t, Olivia. I have to make an appearance in court today on a probate issue. I want to be there early, and it’s snowing out right now. I’ll see you this evening. We’re still on, right?”

  “I’m looking forward to it, Jeff. If things change, call me.”

  Jeff wrote down his e-mail address at the law firm on a scrap of paper, grabbed his coat, and ran toward the door. He turned back and kissed her on the cheek. “E-mail me if you get a response to your e-mails yesterday.”

  “Okay.” Two kisses. One real, one hit-and-run. I’ll take it. Olivia felt like singing.

  Olivia ran with the dogs to the sliding door. The quartet yipped and yapped as they tried to catch the swirling snowflakes falling down faster than Olivia liked. She stood in the open doorway, watching the dogs scampering about, her thoughts a million miles away. The moment the dogs raced inside, she dried them off and made coffee even though she itched to get to the computer.

  It was almost light outside when Olivia entered the great room to build a fire. Outside, the wind howled as snow swirled against the windowpanes. Maybe another storm front coming through. Another inside day. She thought about her father, pictured him basking in island breezes under a golden sun. She shrugged off the image as the fire blazed upward. Satisfied that the dogs would be warm enough, she headed back to the kitchen, poured coffee, grabbed a strawberry-filled Pop-Tart, and headed to the computer. Childishly, she crossed her fingers, hoping there would be e-mails. There were, about seventy, at least sixty-five of which were pure spam. She deleted them, then clicked on one from Gill Laramie. There was no e-mail from Jill Laramie. Maybe she hadn’t read Olivia’s e-mail yet. But she should have gotten the note taped to the door.

  Gill Laramie’s e-mail was a one-liner and simply said to call him at a certain phone number.

  Olivia gulped down the coffee in her cup before she dialed the Arizona number. The answering voice was deep and pleasant-sounding. “Gill Laramie here.”

  Olivia sucked in her breath. “Mr. Laramie, this is Olivia Lowell, Adrian Ames’s aka Allison Matthews’s daughter. I e-mailed you yesterday from New Jersey. Your daughter, Mary Louise, said you lived in Arizona and gave me your e-mail address.”

  “Yes. My daughter called me last night. She explained the situation to me. Now, how can I help you?”

  “I’m not sure, Mr. Laramie. Do you have any idea why your ex-wife is so reclusive, why she won’t talk to people? I spoke to one of her neighbors, a Paul Hemmings, and he said she never leaves the house, never even goes outside. Then your daughter confirmed that…. I really need to speak with your ex-wife. It’s important.”

  “Jill isn’t exactly on my speed dial, Ms. Lowell. I haven’t spoken to my ex-wife since we divorced. She was a strange one, that’s for sure. I always thought she was trying to imitate Allison Matthews. I never met the woman. I did meet Gwen, however. Jill was always paranoid. I could never understand it. Mary Louise…It was hard on her, growing up. One day Jill was what passed for normal for her, which was strange even back then, then the next day she refused to leave the house, wouldn’t talk to anyone. She virtually lived in one room. When it got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, I filed for divorce and took Mary Louise with me. Jill didn’t care.”

  Olivia digested the information. “Did something happen? Some sort of crisis?”

  “Everything was a crisis with Jill. She was upset when Allison didn’t respond to the wedding invitation. Gwen gave us a silver tea service, but Allison didn’t send a present. Jill was livid. Then she seemed to get over it. A couple of years later, when she became pregnant with Mary Louise, she started acting strange again. I thought it was her pregnancy. But it got progressively worse after she gave birth. To this day, I don’t know how I put up with it all. When it finally started to affect Mary Louise, I made the decision to leave. At first Jill panicked. She didn’t want to be alone. She promised to see a therapist, but was afraid to leave the house. The therapist came to the house for a while, but then that stopped. It was incredibly expensive, but Jill has a trust fund. When I left, she gave me fifty thousand dollars for Mary Louise. Has any of this helped you?”

  “I’m not sure, Mr. Laramie. Did Jill stay in touch with Allison and Gwen?”

  “For a little while. But that stopped shortly before Mary Louise was born. She said they turned on her. Whatever that meant. Gwen didn’t bother her as much as Allison did. She used to mumble and mutter about Allison, saying awful things like, she’d get even, she’d fix her, stuff like that. One time she called her a selfish bitch, saying she’d ruined her life. I didn’t waste time trying to figure out what it was all about. I simply chalked it up to female stuff.”

  “Well, I appreciate your talking to me, Mr. Laramie. If I need to call you back, will that be okay?”

  “Anytime.”

  Trust fund, my ass, Olivia thought.

  The rest of the day and evening passed in a blur. There was still no response from Jill Laramie. When Jeff arrived around eight, they batted around what she had learned from Gill Laramie before playing with the dogs, then retiring for the evening.

  Chapter 12

  Olivia woke with a start on Wednesday mor
ning. It was already 9:20. She bolted from the bed, pulled on her robe, and raced down the hall to wake Jeff, thinking they had both overslept. The dogs whined and growled as they circled her feet. The guest room door was open and the bed neatly made. Thinking Jeff was in the kitchen, she hurried through the family room, shivering, her teeth chattering. The dogs barked louder. She quickly let them out and returned to the kitchen. The red light glowed on the coffee machine. The coffee itself looked black as pitch. She poured it down the drain as she looked this way and that, hoping to see a note. Then she saw it, taped to the microwave. Her sigh of relief was so intense she felt light-headed. She held the note as she walked back to the sliding door to let the dogs inside. That’s when she noticed the snow. Lots of snow. A mountain of snow. Her spirits plummeted, but they perked up again when she read the note.

  Good morning, Olivia,

  I couldn’t sleep last night so I thought it might be a good idea to get on the road. I’m leaving now, it’s four o’clock, and it’s snowing heavily. I’ll call you at some point and do my best to keep our date. I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep. No, that’s a lie, I do know why.

  A big capital J was the signature.

  Olivia smiled. She kept smiling as she dried off the dogs, then made a fire in the great room that she hoped would last the morning. The dogs claimed their space near the fire and lay down, each content with his or her chewy.

  Olivia read the note six more times. He couldn’t sleep. She, on the other hand, had slept like a baby. Had even overslept.

  It was still snowing. Another gray-white day. Damn. Later, she’d turn on the weather to see what the forecast was. It was just her luck. A new dress, new everything, depleted bank account, and now this. Still, the road crews might have the roads cleared by this afternoon, especially the major highways in and out of the District.

  “Guess I won’t be going into town for a haircut and facial,” Olivia muttered as she carried her coffee back to her office. She could hardly wait to see if there was a message from Jill Laramie. She sipped at her coffee and clicked the mouse at the same time. She saw the floating envelope on her screen informing her she had an incoming e-mail. She clicked the mouse and blinked. The subject line read Re: BANK ROBBERY. Jill Laramie had returned her e-mail.