Lisa Miscione - Twice

“My daddy used to take me to see the penguins at the zoo,” said Nathaniel solemnly.

“He used to take us to the zoo,” corrected Lola. “He took both of us.”

“Your daddy loves you very much,” said Lydia, using the present tense without really thinking.

“He loved us,” said Lola. “He’s dead now. Dead people can’t love you.”

“Lola,” said Lydia, thinking of the dream she’d had recently about her mother, “that’s not true. It’s not true at all.”

When Lydia and Jeffrey walked into his broom closet of an office, Ford McKirdy was cleaning out his desk. And though it was a bright cold day, he wore a festive Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khakis. A big down parka rested on the chair by the door.

“So you’re finally getting a life,” said Lydia with a smile.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at them. “Thanks to you two, yeah,” he said. He walked over and embraced each of them.

“Have a seat,” he said, hanging his parka on a hook behind the door.

“We’re going to Europe,” he said, with the excitement of a kid on his way to Disneyland. “Me and Rose. Can you believe it?”

“That’s great, Ford,” said Jeffrey, smiling broadly. “We’re happy for you, man.”

“Hey, I’m happy for you guys, too. Dax says you’re finally getting hitched. I know you’ll do a better job at it than I did. But I’m going to make up for it now.”

Jeffrey put his arm around Lydia and smiled into her eyes. Lydia had never seen Ford so animated, and it made her happy; it also made her think twice about why they’d come to see him.

“Hey, speaking of Europe, you guys’ll be happy to know this,” he said, sitting behind his desk. “Interpol picked up Maura and Annabelle Hodge in Paris yesterday. They had a palatial apartment and a big fat bank account. Anyway, they’re bringing them back to face conspiracy-to-murder charges. James Ross might be dead, but someone’s going to pay for all of this.”

The explosion and fire had consumed the Ross house so totally that James Ross’s body had not yet been recovered in the debris. The explosion had come from a rudimentary bomb in the kitchen and had been so powerful that the house was completely leveled. It had been three weeks and investigators were still sifting through debris. The remains of Anthony Donofrio had been recovered, investigators believing that his body had been on one of the top floors of the house. But they had yet to find James Ross. This detail hadn’t rested well with Lydia, and in thinking of it, a couple of other details weren’t sitting so well, either. That’s why they had come today to talk to Ford.

“So when’s your last day?” asked Lydia, looking at him guiltily.

“Tomorrow,” he said, turning his cop’s eyes on them, his voice shading suspicious. “Why?”

“There are just a couple of things nagging at us,” said Jeffrey, giving Ford an apologetic look.

“Man, you guys need to learn how to let things go . He confessed to you… didn’t he?”

“Yeah… but there are just a few things that don’t add up,” answered Lydia, sitting down. “If you can put them to bed for us, we’re on our way to Hawaii to meet my grandparents and to get married.”

He leaned back and looked at them, scowling, but Lydia could see the gleam of curiosity in his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like where did he get all that money? The money to buy the Lexus and the new clothes? Presumably, now that you mention it, to pay Maura and Annabelle Hodge for their services. Remember he’d been declared dead. He had no funds, no assets.”

Ford nodded, seemed to consider the question. “What else?”

“Don’t you think it’s an awfully big coincidence that Julian Ross would wind up living in a building that had one of those Prohibition tunnels, convenient to her crazy tunnel-dwelling twin who happens to be stalking her?”

Ford shrugged. “What else?”

“That night in the house,” said Jeffrey. “I shot James in the foyer. He had a choice to run from the burning house, hop in his Lexus, and take off with the twins. But instead, he turned and ran up the stairs… into the flames. Why didn’t he just take off? Our car was all the way down on the street; he knew I wouldn’t leave you and Lydia in the house to chase after him. He would have had a clean getaway.”

Ford seemed to think about it. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Well, the police were heading up the drive at that point, right?” said Ford, hopeful.

“And the other thing,” said Lydia, “may be the most important. James told us he took the twins so that he could reclaim his family and his fortune. But how would kidnapping the twins accomplish the recovery of his fortune? There was no way for him to claim their money when he was their kidnapper . We already know that Orlando DiMarco was named legal guardian of the twins. It doesn’t make sense.”

“So what are you getting at?”

“Now Julian, miraculously recovered, her evil twin dead, is cleared of her husband’s murder and reunited with her children,” said Lydia, mimicking a society column entry. “Even more fabulously wealthy than ever before, she’s about to embark on a new life, in a new country. She leaves for Switzerland next week, where her dear friend Orlando has a villa where she’ll stay until she and her children have found appropriately luxurious accommodations.”

They were all quiet, listening to the bustle of the busy precinct outside the office. Lydia looked at Ford and saw that none of what she’d said surprised him, that he’d been turning over the same questions in his mind. He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes.

“You remember Julian’s shrink, Dr. Barnes?” Lydia said. “Something she said keeps coming back to me. She said about a year before Stratton was murdered, Julian ended her therapy. She told the doctor that she’d decided to ‘surrender’ to her true self. And that fits with something James told us. He said that he’d been sent to Fishkill because Eleanor believed they had an incestuous relationship. Not because he’d tried to set the house on fire. When he found Julian again, he said she didn’t love him anymore. And that all this time, he’d been stalking her trying to convince her that they belonged together.”

She stopped and looked at Ford as he tried to connect the dots.

“Lydia, just what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” said Lydia, “maybe after all these years of being apart, maybe after all these years of ‘trying to have a normal life,’ Julian gave in to James. Maybe Julian and James finally found a way to be together.”

The Park Avenue duplex was a bustle of workers, covering furniture and carrying boxes out the doors and to a waiting freight elevator. Some of the windows were open, Lydia assumed to air out the place, but she shivered against the cold. Julian Ross didn’t seem to notice the temperature, even though she wore only jeans and a thin white silk turtleneck. Looking fit and healthy, her cheeks a robust pink, her eyes clear, Julian greeted Lydia at the door with an embrace. Lydia regarded her and thought that she looked truly happy, that it radiated from the inside out.

“The children have gone on ahead to Switzerland with Orlando,” she said, leading Lydia into the parlor, which was still relatively intact. “They’ve come to love and trust him so much.”

They sat together on a red velvet sofa that was still uncovered.

“How are they holding up?”

“Young children are resilient,” she said calmly. “They’ll have the best counselors when we’re settled.”