Chapter 24
24
“It's true,” Mrs. O added. “They fooled me when they were kids.”
As if. She could tell the difference between us at twenty paces, even when my sister took my place in her class.
“Who cares which one I get? Someone will want you.”
His words cut surprisingly deep. He was actually wrong. No one wanted me. Todd in college wanted nothing to do with me. Since Mike hadn't called or appeared in the past few days, he wanted medicine more than me.
Veronica had Jack. He'd come for her. Hell, he'd kill Laurel with his bare hands if she even lost an eyelash over this whole exchange.
Laurel started to approach, arm out as if to grab me.
I backed up. “I know karate!”
He just grinned at me. “Yeah, right. Like I can believe anything any of you guys say.”
I held up my cell. “I called the police. Just now. Instead of Mike.”
He cupped his hand by his ear. “I don't hear any sirens. But if you did, we have to move. Let's go.”
Mrs. O inched closer to stand right behind Laurel. Why was she getting closer to the crazy man? She should try to get away! She clearly didn't have mental telepathy because she piped up. “She doesn't know karate.”
Laurel paused, looked over his shoulder at her.
I looked at Mrs. O, astonished. And mad. Okay, so I hadn't paid any attention in her class, but I'd been eleven. “You're right, I don't. Veronica went to class for me when we were kids. I only went a few times.”
“Because—” Mrs. O started.
“What the hell is this? Confession time?” Laurel shouted, his gun veering off me erratically.
I sighed. The conversation with her was almost as scary as a murdering Laurel. There was no way I was leaving the building with him. If I were going to stall him, to try to stay alive, then coming clean with Mrs. O would do the trick. I didn't realize I'd have to be held at gunpoint to do it, however. “Because you scared the crap out of me. And my mom made me go. I wanted to do synchronized swimming lessons at the indoor pool instead.”
Mrs. O lifted one arched brow in surprise. “Synchronized swimming?”
I shrugged. “It was on the Olympics and they were so pretty.”
“I liked your classes, Mrs. O,” Veronica told her.
My sister was such a brown-noser—and she wasn't the one who'd slept with her son.
Mrs. O smiled. “That's nice, dear.”
“Hey!” the guy said angrily. He grabbed Mrs. O's shoulder, wrinkling her pretty blouse in the process. “This isn't the time for girl talk.”
I looked at Mrs. O. This conversation really wasn't about my karate class attendance. This was about the gun-toting idiot standing in front of us and staying alive. She looked at her crinkled shirt and frowned, then turned her eyes to me and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. She's right, I don't know karate.” I tried to look dejected, which wasn't too hard after the past few days.
Laurel smiled wickedly.
I pointed at Mrs. O. “But she does.”
And with those words, Mrs. O spun out of the man's grasp, catching him completely off-guard and had him slumped unconscious on the ground before I could take a breath. Or duck.
Mrs. O grabbed the gun away from his limp fingers, and then glanced at me, a victorious smile on her face.
Goldie came around the counter with a pair of pink faux-fur lined handcuffs, Veronica holding up George by the ankles like he was a bat, as if ready to take a swing at the man's head. Goldie handed me the cuffs and I put them on the guy. It wasn't the best look, but if it worked for BDSM, it would work for a bad guy. Veronica let out a deep breath and gave up on her softball stance as she put George back on the counter.
I smiled at Mrs. O. “I told Mike you could take someone down with the Vulcan death grip...or whatever that was. That was awesome. Think you could teach it to me?”
The police stormed through the door before we even had a chance to call them, Mike following a minute behind.
“Jesus, Vi, what the hell?” he asked, flustered.
“Long story. Your mom took him down.”
The police were replacing the pink handcuffs with real ones and nudging the guy back from unconsciousness.
“Violet was wonderful. She talked a crazy man down,” Mrs. O told Mike, beaming.
I shook my head. “No, your mom was great. She did that thing”—I did a pinching motion like a lobster claw with my fingers—“and the guy slumped to the ground.”
“I got off the plane and listened to your crazy voice message,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I was finding your number in my contact list when you called. I swear I aged ten years. What the hell is going on?”
We all took turns filling him in on the necklace mix-up. I pulled it from my pocket and dangled it from my fingers. Mike lifted the cross and looked it over.
“It's heavy, but if there's a ruby in there, it's hidden well.”
Eager to be rid of the cursed necklace, I handed it off to the policeman.
“Enough about the necklace,” Goldie said. “Where on earth have you been, young man?” Clearly the fake FBI guy was old news.
“New York. After your confusing conversation about your sister wearing a dress, then just a little while ago when I talked to you, I called the police and floored it over here.”
“I'm just glad you got here,” Mrs. O told her son, giving his arm a quick squeeze.
Veronica was cornered, giving her statement but gave me a thumbs up behind Mike's back. I just rolled my eyes in reply.
“Mrs. O, I'm sorry I switched with my sister for your class,” I said, my voice contrite.
Mrs. O just stood there assessing me, a small smile on her face. “Thank you, Violet, for saying that. It's not every child who has a twin who can stand in for them.” She looked at me, then at Mike. “Your sister is lovely, but I like you. I always have. You were feisty and creative with your smarts. Like your book.”
Crap. I'd forgotten all about the book. Who would remember a book when a gun was pointed at you?
“You're your own person. Doing what makes you happy. I like that about you. Besides, ever since you two were in high school, I've known you were the one for Mike.”
Mike's mouth fell open, but she held up her hand.
“I like you much more than you think,” she finished, smiling at me.
I couldn't help it. I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Mrs. O.”
Mike stood there like a six-foot plus lump.
“Well?” Mrs. O asked him.
Goldie joined us, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. “Yeah, well?”
Mike ran his hand through his hair. “Violet...” he started.
I just shrugged. What was he going to say? Violet, I'm moving to New York. Violet, I can't give you what you need. Violet, you were great. The list was endless.
“Violet is not pregnant and we're not really engaged,” Mike let out in one breath.
Mrs. O looked at Goldie, who frowned. She stomped behind the counter, opened the register, pulled out a bill and gave it to Mrs. O. “Fine. You win.”
Mrs. O beamed.
“What—”
“We know, Mike. We've always known,” Mrs. O said.
What? They'd always known?
“Then why on earth didn't you say so?” Mike growled.
“And ruin all the fun?” Goldie asked with a laugh.
“You knew? All along?” I repeated.
“Of course,” Mrs. O chimed.
“Susan?” Mike asked.
Mrs. O shook her head. “She's crazy. But it got you off your rump, didn't it?”
“You sicced a crazy woman on me so I'd be forced to find someone on my own?” Mike's voice grew deeper, angrier and I swear he grew three inches. His face was becoming mottled, and it was obvious by his clenching fists that he was ready to kill Mrs. O. Good thing she was his mother and the police had taken Laurel's gun. He might have size on her, but she had moves. I'd bet on Mrs. O.
“It worked, didn't it?”
“Too bad I was out of town,” Veronica said as she joined us. The police had left and the store was now quiet. She winked at Mike.
She'd been in on it, too? From where, her road trip across the country? “What would have happened if you'd been in town?” I asked her.
Veronica fiddled with the free condoms in the basket on the counter. “Then I would have told Mike I was with Jack and couldn't fill in for him. I would have directed him to you.”
“It just saved everyone lots of time with the coincidence of you answering the phone,” Goldie added.
Mike looked like he was hit by a two-by-four. “How did you know I'd change our status to engaged?”
Mrs. O shrugged. “I didn't. But it didn't matter. You were already together. And it was fun to watch you squirm.”
“And the baby thing?” I asked.
It was Goldie's turn to shrug. “It was time to up the ante.”
“You weren't mad?” I asked Mrs. O.
“Oh, no. It was great fun. But I expect a grandchild out of you eventually.”
I felt my cheeks heat.
The phone rang and Veronica peeled off to answer it. Her role in the whole ruse seemed to be minimal.
“Are you telling me you two organized this whole thing just to get Violet and me together?” I swore I saw steam come out of Mike's ears.
Mrs. O wasn't one to back down. “Yes. But you were the one who made it an engagement.”
“You were the one who made up a baby! How dare you do that to Violet.” Wow, Mike was pissed. He was standing up for me.
Goldie didn't back down either. “It was a DEFCON ONE situation. What did you expect me to do?”
Mike looked at her blankly. “Were you in the military or something because I have no idea what that means. Do you know what you put her through?” He pointed at me.
“What I went through?” It was my turn to pipe up, and redirect the conversation away from my uterus. “You're the one who started this whole thing. You could have told your mother the truth at any time.”
Both Goldie and Mrs. O had their hands on their hips. “Mom, I was doing it to protect you. To keep from hurting your feelings. But obviously you were just messing with me instead.”
Mrs. O put a hand on Mike's arm. “You don't have to protect everyone, Michael. What do you really want? Whatever it is, go for it. But do it for the right reasons, and love is definitely one of them.”
Mike ran his hand through his hair.
“What about the twins?” I asked, afraid Mike would bolt.
“Oh, they wanted you. You were the one to confirm it since you speak French,” Goldie said.
“We couldn't have asked for better helpers, unbeknownst to them. It's fun to watch a grown man be jealous of hot French twins. Even my son.” Mrs. O gave a sweet smile to Mike. “It got you to realize you love Violet.”
“Jesus, Mom.”
Mike loved me? Mrs. O could see it. I couldn't, and I assumed Mike couldn't either.
“You had to blow it and go off to New York. But you're back,” Mrs. O commented.
“Well?” Goldie just stood there and looked at Mike. Mrs. O just stood there and looked at Mike. I just stood there and looked at Mike.
Mike looked at Goldie and Mrs. O. “You two might have started this whole thing, but I'm going to finish it.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the store.