Fool Me Once

by Fern Michaels

  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.”

  The relief on Jeff’s face was just short of comical. Not so Martindale’s.

  “What’s it going to be, Martindale?”

  “Get these dogs off me, Bannerman. I can sue you for this. I will sue you for this! They’re shredding my suit. My three-thousand-dollar suit. All right, all right, if Mr. Cracker doesn’t want the dog, you can keep him. Now, will you get these…rats off me!”

  Olivia clapped her hands, and said, “Good boy, Cecil. C’mere, I have treats.”

  The little dogs formed two neat lines and waited for their treats. “Say thank you, gentlemen.” Olivia laughed. As one, the pack barked. She looked down to see the red spot on Cecil’s tail. She scooped him up and whispered in his ear. “You get two treats because you bit that obnoxious guy’s ass. Now scoot!” Cecil threw back his head and howled before sprinting off to the great room, where he showed he was staking out his position as top dog with two treats. In the blink of an eye, Alice snatched one of the two treats and raced off to her own bed, her tail moving at the speed of light. The pack knew Alice was the queen of 509 Eagle Drive, so no disputes arose.

  Everly Cracker scrawled his name on the release form Jeff had withdrawn from his briefcase. Ambrose Martindale glowered for the benefit of the cameras. He tried to gather his dignity about him but failed miser
ably.

  Dee Dee Pepper motioned Martindale toward the kitchen, while Jeff and Olivia talked to the reporters and the news crews outside on the lawn.

  Dee Dee withdrew the minirecorder from her pocket. She pressed the ON button. Ambrose’s voice ricocheted around the kitchen.

  “You even think about screwing with my friends, and I’ll send this tape to the Bar Association. Are we clear on that, Mr. Martindale?” said Dee Dee.

  Martindale huffed and puffed. “That’s blackmail!”

  “Call it whatever you want, Mr. Martindale. I prefer to call it insurance. It’s a shame about your suit. What the heck, just bill Mrs. Manning’s estate. Isn’t that how you guys get suits like that in the first place? Bye,” Dee Dee singsonged. “Gotta run. We’re doing a special edition, and I have a deadline.”

  Dee Dee’s Doc Martens thumped on the floor as she hurried to the front door. “I’ll come by later with a copy of the paper,” she told Olivia. “We’re doing a special afternoon edition, and Cecil is going to get the whole front page. I’ll try to get his picture above the fold. Invite me to supper so you can tell me about that guy you’re going to fix me up with.”

  “You got it!” Olivia shouted as she and Jeff walked closer to the road, where they shook hands with all of Cecil’s supporters. They stood there a long time, holding hands, until Eagle Drive emptied out. “We did it, Jeff! Cecil is all ours. Hey, I gotta call my dad to tell him the good news!”

  Jeff grinned from ear to ear as he trailed his fiancée into the house. Cecil was waiting for him at the door. He dropped to his knees and picked up the little dog. He didn’t look at the tail—he knew it was Cecil. He didn’t know how, he just did. “We got you, buddy, and let me tell you, you were worth the fight.” Cecil did his best to stretch his tiny body lengthwise so he could cuddle into Jeff’s neck. His little head sought for a soft spot, where he laid it. Jeff felt a lump settle in his throat.

  Such devotion, such true love.

  Chapter 29

  Lucy the Saint Bernard and her two-month-old pup that Olivia had been photographing for the past two hours pranced alongside their owner, who was smiling benevolently as she led her dogs to her van.

  Lucy had been a chore to photograph, as she did her best to make sure her new pup was in all the shots. Olivia had finally obliged, making the decision to give Lucy the December slot on next year’s calendar. She frowned when she looked up to see Lucy trotting across the yard, a silver package between her teeth. She looked up at Olivia before she dropped it at her feet. Olivia blinked, half-expecting the huge dog to say, “Here’s a wedding present.” Of course she didn’t, but she did bark, then waited for the obligatory “good girl” before she trotted back to the van.

  Olivia’s first wedding present.

  Delivered by a Saint Bernard.

  She picked it up but decided to wait for Jeff to open it.

  Five more days!

  Five more days until she became Mrs. Olivia Bannerman.

  Olivia’s heart kicked up a beat as she walked back into the house for a soda pop. She carried it out to the deck and sat down.

  It was a glorious September day, as glorious as her mood. Her world was so right side up, it was downright scary.

  Olivia settled herself more comfortably in the deck chair. She looked around her little domain. The grass wasn’t quite as pretty as it had been before so many dogs began romping and digging, but it would come back. Then again, they hadn’t had much rain, either, these last few months, and autumn and winter were just around the corner. She shivered in the afternoon sunshine, her eyes on the colorful pots of flowers, whose leaves were starting to turn yellow. Before long there would be a frost, and that would be the end of the bright blooms. Some of the leaves were already starting to change color.

  The phone rang. A smile stretched across her face. Jeff. He always called at this time of day. The smile stayed in her voice when she said hello.

  “Do you still love me? said Jeff. “Five days to go!”

  “No, I decided the meter reader is the man for me! Sorry. Five days! How many minutes and hours? Just tell me that, Jeff Bannerman!”

  The soft laughter on the other end of the phone sent shivers up Olivia’s spine. “I can’t make it out this evening, Olivia. In fact, my desk here is so full, I probably won’t make it out tomorrow, either. Tell me again why I took this short-term job.”

  “You wanted to help out a friend. That’s what you said, Jeff. You had law firms lining up to sign you on after we settled Cecil’s case. You turned them all down to help your friend establish his fledgling firm. Was it a mistake, Jeff? If it was, you can correct it. You have a job with Adrian’s Treasures.”

  “Yes, I know. Was it a mistake? No, Olivia, it wasn’t a mistake. Drew would have done it for me. In fact, he agreed to help me out when I open up a small office in Winchester—a project which, by the way, is looking better and better. I think I’m a small-town boy at heart. I want to get things squared away so I don’t have to come back here after our honeymoon. Not to mention, all of this is pro bono. We almost have things taken care of. I begrudge the time I have to spend away from you and the dogs.”

  Olivia laughed. How was it possible to be so happy? “Jeff, Dee Dee Pepper called earlier this morning, and she said she’s looking forward to following in our footsteps. I took that to mean her relationship is becoming serious.”

  “It is. Serious, I mean. I think we were a good influence on those two! Do you miss me? Do the dogs miss me?”

  “Yes and yes. Oh, I almost forgot. We got a wedding present today. It was paw-delivered by a Saint Bernard named Lucy. I’ll wait till you get here to open it. I was so excited—our first wedding present!”

  “A Saint Bernard, huh? Gee, I can’t wait. I gotta go, honey. I’ll call you tonight.”

  Olivia leaned her head back on the deck chair to let the afternoon sun wash over her. The dogs meandered around the deck before they, too, found patches of sun not covered by the awning and stretched out. Why not? Dinner was still an hour away.

  Olivia felt like singing but contented herself with humming the strains of “Here Comes the Bride” under her breath. It was all so very perfect. What did she ever do to gain such happiness? Especially with a mother like hers. Having her dad as both mother and father was the answer.

  The last few months had been traumatic, but in the end, with her father’s help, she’d managed to put all those events behind her. It was amazing, she thought, how things came together after Jill’s brutal announcement that day in May. So much so that she and Jeff really were going to honeymoon on her father’s boat. Dennis had clinched the deal by saying, “No radios, no televisions, and no telephones.” Jeff had clapped her father on the back and said, “Sign us up!” And that had been the end of that.

  Jill had called over the weekend to ask if she knew what the long-range weather forecast would be for the wedding, so she and Gwen would know what to wear. That call had been so far over the top that Olivia had laughed for an hour. She didn’t know who was happier, Jill and Gwen or she and Jeff.

  So out of all the ugliness, out of all the tragedy, much good had surfaced. Truth, hard as it was to bear sometimes, had healing powers. She, Gwen, Jill, and her father were the living proof.

  Once in a while she had a twinge when she thought about the tricks she’d employed to keep Cecil out of Everly Cracker’s clutches—who had been arrested twice since that fateful morning. Once for disturbing the peace and once for drunk driving. Dee Dee told her he was leaving with his cronies to go back to, as Dee Dee put it, whatever rock he’d crawled out from under. Cecil was safe and happy. In this case the end really had justified the means. Martindale, also according to Dee Dee, who had stayed on top of all developments the last few months, had taken a media licking and was cruising the Mediterranean.

  Olivia yawned and stretched luxuriously. One by one, the dogs did the same thing. Dinnertime, she thought, looking down at her watch. From here on out, she had three wh
ole weeks to do nothing but smile and be happy. Lucy the Saint Bernard had been her last client. Her day planner for the next three weeks held nothing but blank pages.

  Life was so good.

  Actually, life was wonderful.

  The small house on Eagle Drive was filled to overflowing. Down the long hall away from the hubbub, in her bedroom, Olivia was getting dressed for the wedding ceremony, which was to take place in the great room. Dee, Gwen, and Jill were helping, their faces wreathed in smiles.

  A tentative knock sounded. “Come in,” Olivia called. Then, seeing who it was, she said, “Oh, Mrs. Bannerman! You look so pretty!”

  The little lady who was Jeff’s mother laughed. “Not half as pretty as you look. I wanted to give you something. It’s not much, just a little handmade hankie that my grandmother gave to my mother, who gave it to me. You know, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Her voice was shy and sweet as she handed over the small lace square. Olivia folded it neatly and inserted it in the sleeve of her wedding gown. “By the way, did I thank you for taking Jeff off our hands! The family was about to give up on him and accept the fact that he was going to be a bachelor forever.”

  Olivia hugged her. She whispered in the woman’s ear. “I love your son very much. I will do everything in my power to make him happy. Thank you for having such a wonderful son.”

  Mrs. Bannerman smiled. “I’ll leave you to finish dressing. I’ll be the one crying in the front row.”

  When the door closed behind Mrs. Bannerman, Jill turned to Gwen, her eyes moist. “See? That’s what we missed. Thank you, Olivia, for allowing us to share these moments with you. We both owe you so much. We’ll never be able to thank you enough. We know we turned your life upside down, and for that we’re sorry. We’re living for the first time in forty years. Really living. It might not be perfect, but it’s as good as it can get for now, and for that we will always be indebted to you.”