Fool Me Once Read Online Free Page A

like an extraordinary man, Ms. Lowell.”
    â€œOh, he is. He raised me when my mother died. If she’d lived, I can’t imagine her doing a better job. Now, tell me why you’re here and what I can do for you.”
    The attorney removed his overcoat and laid it on the side of the sofa. He looked puzzled. “Did I hear you right just now? Did you say your mother died?”
    â€œYes, the day I was born. Thirty-four years ago. That’s her picture on the mantel. It’s the only one we have. Her name was Allison. Why are you here, Mr. O’Brien? Does this visit have something to do with my dad?”
    â€œNot directly.”
    While O’Brien walked over to the fireplace and studied the picture on the mantel, she eyed the briefcase on the sturdy pine coffee table. It looked old and well used, with scuff marks and gouges in the cowhide. She wondered how many lawsuits it represented. She waited, her gaze taking in the familiar room, while the lawyer, who had returned to stand by the coffee table, riffled through his case for whatever it was he was going to show her.
    She loved this room, she really did. One wall was her own personal rogue’s gallery, as her father called it. Every inch of space on the wall was covered with pictures of her from the day she was born. The massive stone fireplace, with a hearth so wide and deep she could have positioned a sofa on it, took up another wall. Her father had allowed her to carry the irregular fieldstones in from outside, making the building of it a joint effort. In the winter they made roaring fires, popped corn, and toasted marshmallows. They even grilled weenies on sticks on occasion. The green plants and fica trees were her contribution. She trimmed and watered them weekly. All were lush and green, thanks to the three skylights that graced the ceiling.
    She’d had sleepovers in this very room when she was young. She wondered where all those old friends were these days.
    Olivia was jolted from her thoughts when the lawyer cleared his throat. “What I have here in my hand is the last will and testament of your mother, whom you probably know as Allison Matthews Lowell, although she changed her name to Adrian Ames soon after divorcing your father. I can read it to you, or you can read it yourself.”
    Olivia threw her hands in the air. “See? See? I knew this was a mistake. You have the wrong person. My mother died when I was born. I guess there’s some other Olivia Lowell out there. I’m sorry you wasted your time, Mr. O’ Brien.”
    The attorney cleared his throat again. “I didn’t waste my time, Ms. Lowell. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your mother did not die thirty-four years ago. She died two weeks ago and left her entire estate to you. And whoever that is in the picture on the mantel, it’s not Adrian Ames.”
    Olivia’s heart thundered in her chest. She reached out to grasp the arm of the chair she was sitting on, only to see Cecil perched there. She picked him up and brought him close to her chest. She was so light-headed she couldn’t think. “No! No! Don’t tell me that. My father…my father…would never…he wouldn’t lie…This must be some kind of cruel joke, and I don’t appreciate it. No, you’re wrong.”
    Prentice O’Brien inched the will in its sky-blue cover across the coffee table. It glared up at Olivia like an obscene blue eye. She made no move to reach for it. She struggled with her voice. “I think you should leave now, Mr. O’Brien.”
    â€œMs. Lowell, I’m sorry about this, but my firm represented your mother for many, many years. This is not a mistake. Once you know the story behind all this, I’m sure you’ll understand it is not some cruel hoax. I understand your being upset, so I’m going to leave. I suggest you contact your father and talk with him. After you’ve done that,