Harlan Coben - Fool Me Once

“Lily and I went to the playground. We do that every day.”

“Did you leave the house any other time?”

Isabella looked up as though trying to remember. “No, Mrs. Burkett.”

“And did you leave the house at all by yourself?”

“Without Lily?!” She said it with a sharp intake, as though this were the most offensive thing she could imagine. “No, Mrs. Burkett, of course not.”

“Did you leave her alone at all?”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a simple question, Isabella.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Isabella said. “Why are you asking me these questions? You don’t like the job I’m doing?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I never leave Lily alone. Never. Maybe when she takes a nap upstairs, I come downstairs and clean up a little—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Isabella studied Maya’s face now. “Then what do you mean?”

There was no reason to delay this any longer. “I want to show you something.”

The laptop was on the kitchen island. Maya reached for it as Isabella moved in closer. “I keep a camera in the family room,” she began.

Isabella looked puzzled.

“A friend gave it to me,” Maya said in a way of explanation, though really, did she need to explain herself? “It records what goes on when I’m not here.”

“A camera?”

“Yes.”

“But I never saw a camera, Mrs. Burkett.”

“You’re not supposed to. It’s hidden.”

Isabella’s gaze slid back toward the family room.

“A nanny cam,” Maya continued. “You know that new picture frame we have on the shelf?”

She watched Isabella’s eyes land on the bookshelf. “Yes, Mrs. Burkett.”

“That’s a camera.”

Isabella looked back at her. “So you were spying on me?”

“I was monitoring my child,” Maya said.

“But you didn’t let me know.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no reason to get defensive.”

“No?” Isabella’s tone spiked up. “You didn’t trust me.”

“Would you?”

“What?”

“It wasn’t a question of you, Isabella. Lily is my child. I am responsible for her well-being.”

“And you think spying on me is best for her?”

Maya maximized the screen setting and cued up the video. “Before this morning, I figured that it couldn’t hurt.”

“And now?”

Maya flipped the screen around so Isabella could see it. “Watch.”

Maya didn’t bother to watch the video again. She had seen it enough times for now. Instead, she focused on Isabella’s face and looked for signs of stress or deception.

“What am I supposed to be looking for?”

Maya glanced at the screen. The fake Joe had just exited the screen after blocking the camera. “Just watch.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes. Maya tried to keep her breath even. They say you never know how someone will react when the grenade is thrown. That was always the hypothetical: You are standing with your comrades in arms and a grenade is thrown at your feet. Who flees? Who ducks? Who jumps on the grenade and sacrifices themselves? You can try to predict, but until the grenade is actually thrown, you don’t have a clue.

Maya had proven herself to her fellow soldiers repeatedly. They knew that under the pressure of combat, she could be cool, calm, collected. She was a leader who had displayed those qualities time and time again.

The odd thing was, this leadership and coolheadedness had not transferred to her real life. Eileen had told her about her little son, Kyle, who was so organized and tidy at his Montessori preschool — and such a mess at home. Something similar happened with Maya.

So as she stood over Isabella, as “Joe” entered the screen and put Lily on his lap, as Isabella’s facial expression didn’t change, Maya could feel something inside of her give way.

“Well?” Maya said.

Isabella looked at her. “Well, what?”

Something behind Maya’s eyes snapped. “What do you mean, well, what?”

Isabella cringed.

“How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop playing games with me, Isabella.”

Isabella took a step back. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Did you watch the video?”

“Of course.”

“So you saw that man, right?”

Isabella said nothing.

“You saw the man, right?”

Isabella still said nothing.

“I asked you a question, Isabella.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“You saw him, right?”

“Who?”

“What do you mean, who? Joe!” Maya reached out and grabbed Isabella by the lapels. “How the hell did he get into this house?”

“Please, Mrs. Burkett! You’re scaring me!”

Maya pulled Isabella toward her. “You didn’t see Joe?”

Isabella met her eyes. “Did you?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. “Are you telling me you saw Joe on that video?”

“You... you didn’t?”

“Please, Mrs. Burkett,” Isabella said. “You’re hurting me.”

“Wait, are you saying—”

“Let go of me!”

“Mommy...”

It was Lily. Maya looked toward her daughter. Isabella used the distraction to push back and put her hand against her throat as though she’d been choked.

“It’s okay, honey,” Maya said to Lily. “It’s all okay.”

Isabella, acting as though she were catching her breath, said, “Mommy and I were just playing, Lily.”

Lily watched them both.

Isabella’s right hand was still on her own neck, rubbing it far too dramatically. Maya turned toward her. Isabella quickly raised her left palm toward Maya to signal for her to stop.

“I want answers,” Maya said.

Isabella managed a nod. “Okay,” she said, “but I need some water first.”

Maya hesitated and then turned toward the sink. She turned on the water, opened a cabinet, grabbed down a cup. A thought flashed across her brain.

Eileen had been the one to give her the nanny cam.

Maya considered that as she placed the glass under the faucet. She filled it halfway, turned toward Isabella, and then heard the strange hissing.

Maya screamed as the pain — white-hot pain — consumed her.

It felt as though someone were jamming tiny shards of broken glass directly into her eyeballs. Maya’s knee buckled. She dropped to the floor.

The hissing.

Somewhere in the clouds past the burning, past the agony, the answer came to her.

Isabella had sprayed something into her face.

Pepper spray.

Pepper spray not only burned the eyes but also inflamed the mucous membranes in the nose, mouth, and lungs. Maya tried to hold her breath so that it wouldn’t enter her lungs, tried to blink fast and hard and let her tears wash it away. But for now there was no relief, no escape.

Maya couldn’t move.

She heard the sound of someone running, then a door closing.

Isabella was gone.

“Mommy?”

Maya had managed to make her way to the bathroom.

“Mommy’s fine, honey. Draw me a picture, okay? I’ll be there in minute.”

“Isabella?”

“Isabella’s fine too. She’ll be back soon.”

It took longer to get over the effect than she’d originally thought. Rage burned like her eyes. For the first ten minutes, she had been completely incapacitated, helpless to mount even the most minimal defense against an enemy. Eventually the pain and dry heaving subsided. Maya caught her breath. She rinsed out her eyes and washed her skin with dishwashing detergent. Then she scolded herself.

Turning her back on the enemy. Amateur hour.

How could she have been so stupid?

She was furious, mostly with herself. She had even started buying Isabella’s act, thinking maybe she really didn’t know anything about it. So she let her guard down. Just for a second. And look at the results.