Fool Me Once (24 page)

Jeff scrawled his name above his printed name the minute the printer spit out his resignation letter. Holding it in his hand, he walked around the corner to his office, where he saw a tall man in a thousand-dollar suit standing in the doorway looking around.

Ambrose Martindale. The lion had come down to the cub's floor.

“Excuse me, sir,” Jeff said, inching his way past the tall, imposing figure. He wore gold cuff links. Ha!

“Ambrose Martindale,” the tall man, said extending his hand. Jeff ignored it. “Are you Jeff Bannerman? I believe we spoke on the phone yesterday. When we finished our conversation, I was under the impression you were a team player and on board.”

“Yes sir, I am Jeff Bannerman. One should never assume or presume anything in this life, as I've just found out,” Jeff said, not missing a beat as he picked up the box with his personal belongings. “Here!” he said, holding out his resignation letter to the head of the firm. “You might as well take this and save me a trip to personnel.” He was out the door a second later, heading for the elevator.

“Hold on there, young fellow. I want to talk to you!”

Jeff didn't bother to turn around. “Your secretary said every minute of your day was accounted for,” he shouted over his shoulder, “and my name wasn't on any of those minutes. I'm in a hurry. By the way, I don't work here anymore. I quit. That's my resignation you're holding in your hand.” Reaching the elevator, he stabbed at the down-arrow button and waited.

The thousand-dollar suit had finally caught up to him. The pewter-gray eyes flashed angrily. “I want to talk to you, young man. I will not tolerate such behavior. Lillian Manning was a personal friend for many years. I will not allow you to turn this…mess into a circus. Well?”

“I think, Mr. Martindale, you said everything you had to say to me yesterday. Today it's my turn. I'm not giving up Cecil to some drugged-up jailbird who didn't even know Lillian Manning. Mrs. Manning's will clearly states that I am to take care of Cecil. I don't want the money, I never drew a penny of it. If you want to sue me, sue me, but you're going to have one hell of a fight on your hands because I'll fight this firm till hell freezes over, and then I'll fight you on the ice.

“I wish I could say it's been a pleasure working here, but it hasn't been a pleasure, Mr. Martindale.”

The elevator door slid open. Jeff stepped aside to allow three other lawyers, with whom he had a nodding acquaintance, to pass him. He stepped into the elevator just as the lion roared at him, “Get back here, Bannerman!”

“In your dreams, Martindale. In your dreams!” Jeff mumbled to himself as the elevator descended to the lobby.

O
livia hopped into her car and headed for Valley Road to Gaunt's Drug Store, where she bought a prepaid phone card. She didn't know why, but each time she walked into the drugstore, she had a vision of Patsy Cline, the singer, behind the counter where she'd once worked as a soda jerk. The soda fountain was gone now, but there was a cutout of the singer in the front window these days.

Olivia stuck the card in her pocket and waved to the owner, Harold Madigan, as she left in search of the nearest phone booth, where she proceeded to make two phone calls. The first call was to the local TV channel. She rattled off Cecil's story and gave them Jeff's cell phone number to call for confirmation. With nothing exciting going on in Winchester at the moment, she knew the station would run with the information she provided. Her second call was to WINC, the local radio station, where she again rattled off the same information and offered up Jeff's cell phone number for confirmation for the second time.

Pleased with herself, she went back to her car and headed for South Pleasant Valley Road to Martin's, where she shopped for groceries to shore up her freezer and pantry. Her cell phone rang just as she inserted the key in the ignition. Joy and elation rang in her voice when she said, “Jeff! What happened? How did it go? Tell me everything! Did you get fired?”

“No, I didn't get fired! I quit, Olivia! I quit! I beat them to the punch. I'm unemployed! Do you still want me?”

Olivia laughed. “Do I need air to breathe? Of course I still want to marry you, and we are not postponing the wedding, either. What happened?”

“Listen, I have a call coming in. I'm on my way back to Winchester. We'll talk later. Love you!”

Before Olivia could return the endearment, the connection was broken. She smiled. Being in love was so wonderful. She beamed her happiness, waving to a few neighbors and acquaintances as she made her way out of the parking lot.

Her watch told her she had to hustle because she had an eleven o'clock appointment to photograph a schnauzer named Annabell—a holy terror who wanted nothing more than to bite everyone she came in contact with. It was obvious the dog's owner, a Mrs. Collins, had absolutely no control over the animal. Annabell also had a weak bladder. Olivia was not looking forward to dealing with Annabell and her owner, who always insisted on staying for the session so she could have “input.”

Arriving home just at eleven, Olivia carried in her perishables and shoved everything in the refrigerator before she escorted a snapping, snarling Annabell into the studio.

Annabell's owner said she would not be able to stay owing to a hair-cutting appointment. “I'll be at Today's Hair in case you need to reach me.” Olivia just nodded, relieved that she wouldn't have to contend with the arrogant woman. The angry dog was enough of a challenge.

The minute Mrs. Collins closed the door behind her, Annabell hopped up on the bench and stared at Olivia as if to say, let's get with it. Olivia reached for her camera, focused, and snapped. Annabell stretched, yawned, moved to show her profile, first the left, then the right. Olivia clicked with the speed of light, muttering over and over, “You little ham! Keep this up and you definitely have a shot at being Ms. September. C'mon, c'mon, show me some leg!” Annabell dutifully stretched out her front leg and demurely looked downward. “Attagirl! You got it! Smile now!” Annabell showed her teeth. Olivia laughed till her sides hurt.

When Annabell had enough of the bench she hopped down and sprinted over to the red wagon and sat down. Again she posed, turning this way and that way. Olivia laughed and laughed. When Annabell had enough of the red wagon, she scooted out and ran over to the rocking horse, backed up a step, and hopped into the leather saddle. She reached for the leather strap and held it in her teeth. When the horse started to rock, Olivia sat down, angling the camera as she continued to laugh. “Good girl, Annabell! Yep, you are definitely Ms. September. And for being so good, here's a chewie!”

Olivia was still sitting on the floor laughing when Jeff walked into the studio. His hair was on end, his jacket slung over his shoulder, his tie askew. He looked like a wild man. Olivia continued to laugh as Annabell, clutching her chew, joined the other dogs. “You know what, Jeff? That dog hates her owner.”

“That's a shame. The dog must be really unhappy. Where did he go?”

“He's a her. Her name is Annabell. When her owner is around she's just awful. The minute she left, she was just fine. She posed like a pro before she ran off to play with the others.”

Jeff nodded as though he understood perfectly even though his mind was a million miles away.

“Tell me everything,” Olivia prompted.

“Well, for starters, I didn't get an appointment with Mr. Martindale. His secretary told me every minute of his day was accounted for, and my name wasn't on any of those minutes, so I left a very curt, concise message and said I quit. I quit, Olivia. I didn't give the firm a chance to fire me. I knew I was going to quit, so I'd packed up my stuff before I went up to the lion's floor. Even downloaded my personal files and took my day planner, along with my briefcase, to the car. That's what everyone calls Martindale, the lion. I think he knows and is rather smug about the whole thing. I had Hillary type up my resignation and was on my way to personnel with it when Martindale caught up with me at the door to my office. I really didn't give him the time of day. He wasn't even sure who I was. Didn't do much for my confidence. Hell, I'd already bitten the bullet, so I just kept right on going to the elevator, talking to him over my shoulder. I even shoved my resignation in his hand, saving me a trip to personnel. That's about it. Oh, he said he wasn't going to allow me to turn this mess, that's what he called it, a mess, into a circus. I don't have a job, Olivia.”

“I do. We won't starve. Now you are free and clear. Let's get to work on Cecil. You didn't say anything about the TV and radio stations. I gave them your cell phone number. Did they call you?”

Jeff slapped at his forehead. “Jeez, I almost forgot to tell you. Both stations called, and I gave them an earful. They sounded like they were on our side. Give me ten minutes to change my clothes, and I'm all yours.”

Olivia stood up and was instantly kissed by Jeff. “Go!” she gasped before she pulled away. “Annabell's owner will be here any second. I have a few things I have to do in here because I have a one o'clock appointment with an Airedale. You can carry in the groceries I left in the car and make us lunch. I'm pretty hungry.”

Jeff made a low, sweeping bow before he trotted off to do her bidding. He blew her a kiss that she returned with loud, smacking gusto.

Olivia's mood turned sour when the dogs barreled into the studio at the sound of Annabell's owner's car. The hair immediately went up on the schnauzer's back. Her new best friends joined in the frantic yapping. Olivia's heart thudded in her chest when the doorbell rang outside the studio. She opened the door, and Mrs. Collins, sporting a new haircut, sailed through. Olivia thought she looked like a broomstick with feathers on the end of it.

The woman tried to coax Annabell to her, and when the dog refused to listen, she started to scream about keeping Annabell in her crate for a week. Annabell sneaked around a stool and nipped her owner on her leg. Mrs. Collins howled. The other dogs, Cecil leading the pack, circled her showing their tiny teeth. Mrs. Collins continued to howl as she tried to catch Annabell, who raced away and tried to hide under the little red wagon. The little dog was trembling, and Olivia rushed to pick her up.

“Give her to me,” her owner screeched. She reached out to snatch the dog, and Annabell snarled and bit down on her hand.

Olivia's heart was beating just as fast as the schnauzer's. What the heck was going on? What kind of dog owner was this? “I don't think so, Mrs. Collins. I'm not sure, but I think you've been abusing this dog. She isn't biting me, as you can plainly see. In fact, she's shaking badly, which tells me she's afraid of you. I think I'm going to call Animal Cruelty and let you fight it out with them. Be aware that if I file a complaint like that, it will get into the newspapers. Before that happens, why don't you let me buy Annabell from you?”

“Buy? Buy? You can have her! I've done everything I could for that stupid dog. She pees wherever she feels like it. I have to keep her in her crate most of the time or she'd ruin my entire house. My husband wanted this stupid dog, not me. She bites everyone. She's nothing but trouble. Don't bother calling Animal Cruelty, and don't think I'm paying for those photographs, either. She's all yours! And don't even think about giving her back!”

Olivia cuddled the schnauzer to her chest. The little dog was calmer now, as though she understood she wouldn't be leaving with the screeching woman.

Olivia sucked in her breath as she stroked the little dog. “I'm more than willing to pay for Annabell. She's a wonderful little dog. Which vet do you take her to?”

The woman laughed. “Figure it out for yourself!” She slammed the door behind her. The dogs started to bark and growl as they raced, a nanosecond too late, to the door.

Jeff poked his head in the door. “Lunch is ready!”

“We have a new dog!” Olivia said brightly. “Annabell will be staying with us from now on. She might be hungry, Jeff. By the way, what are we having for lunch?”

“BLTs with lots of leftover bacon for the dogs. I nuked it, so it's okay to give them as a treat. As you said, less nitrates that way. That's great, you can never have too many dogs,” Jeff said, tickling Annabell behind the ears. “She's a cutie.”

Olivia linked her arm with Jeff's. The dogs fell in line as they trooped into the kitchen. “I feel like the Pied Piper.” Olivia giggled.

The minute Olivia and Jeff sat down to eat their lunch Cecil pawed Jeff's leg and Annabell pawed Olivia's leg. They weren't begging for food, they just wanted to be picked up and cuddled. Olivia bit down on her lower lip, but not before she saw Jeff's wet eyes. She pretended she didn't notice. “I think this little gal knows she's staying here, don't you?”

Jeff cleared his throat. “That would be my guess. I brought a copy of Lillian's will with me.”

Alice and Loopy barked as Bea tried to outdo them both by growling. Cecil and Annabell joined the fray, and Olivia and Jeff were left to eat in peace and quiet.

The phone rang just as Olivia crunched up her napkin. She reached for it, clicked it on, and heard Miki Kenyon's voice. She wiggled her eyebrows at Jeff. She took the initiative. “Still can't find her, huh?”

“No, it's almost as though she dropped off the face of the earth.” Miki was, of course, referring to Jill Laramie. “No charge, Ms. Lowell. Do you want us to keep trying, or do you want to let it go for now?”

“Right now I'm of a mind to let it all go, Miki. She's gone to ground. If I change my mind, I'll give you a call.”

“Okay, honey, you're the boss. This is only the second time we failed to find our subject. She's good, I'll give her that. Take care. We'll talk again.”

Olivia clicked off the connection. She looked over at Jeff. “That was the detective agency. Miki calls once a week. They still can't find Jill Laramie. I told her to let it go. Mr. O'Brien is supposed to be sending all of the money back to the bank. I'm surprised he hasn't called me. I guess there's a possibility he didn't send the check yet. Still, I made sure he knew how important it was to do it ASAP.”

Jeff laughed. “You know us lawyers—we march to our own drummer.” His eyes wide, he stared across the table at Olivia. “It's really starting to hit me now. I don't have a job. I've always had a job, from the time I was eleven and delivered papers.”

“How about if I hire you as Advisor to the CEO of Adrian's Treasures? On a temporary basis, or until we can all figure out what to do with the company. Forever, if you like the job and whatever perks go with it. I'm going to need someone I can trust on the inside to report to me. The job has to go to someone. Who better than you? I was thinking the other day about asking my dad, but I don't think he'd do it for any amount of money. The job is yours if you want it. It would be a
real
job, Jeff, not something I'm making up just so you have a job. We could convert the garage to an office. I never keep my car in there anyway, and it's a double garage, which means there's plenty of room. More and more people are working at home these days, with all the modern technology available. You'd have to go to the corporate offices in Baltimore every so often, but that would be it. Will you at least think about it?”

“I will. I decided. I'll take the job!”

There was such relief in her fiancé's face, Olivia smiled. “Then all we have to do is negotiate a salary. What do you think is fair?”

They got down to it then, tooth and nail, but it was all in fun. In the end, both agreed that the position was worth $200,000 a year, with medical benefits, a two-million-dollar life insurance policy, and a 401(k). They shook hands in a businesslike way. Then Jeff really clinched the deal by kissing Olivia.

Her eyes starry, Olivia whipped out her cell phone with one hand and handed the portable phone to Jeff with the other. “We need to call all the animal organizations Lillian left bequests to and the ones who will inherit…down the road. Then I think I should take you to dinner at Two-Twenty Seafood over on Route 7. It's on the outskirts of town. You'll love it. I want to celebrate having the good sense to hire you.