Fool Me Once(20)

“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.

Hadn’t she seen enough times when a slipup, a second of lost concentration, had cost lives? Hadn’t she learned this most obvious of lessons?

It wouldn’t happen again.

Okay, enough self-flagellation. Time to remember, learn, and move ahead.

So what next?

The answer was fairly obvious. Take another few minutes. Recuperate to full strength. Then track down Isabella and make her talk.

The doorbell rang.

Maya rinsed her eyes one more time and headed to the door. She debated getting a gun first—no more chances—but she could see right away it was Detective Kierce.

He stared at her when she opened the door. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got hit with pepper spray.”

“Come again?”

“Isabella. My nanny.”

“Are you serious?”

“No, I’m a gifted comedian. Nothing warms up a crowd like jokes about pepper-spraying nannies.”

Roger Kierce’s eyes wandered around the room before returning to Maya. “Why?”

“I saw something on my nanny cam.”

“You have a nanny cam?”

“I do.” Again she thought about Eileen giving it to her, even telling her exactly where to put it. “It’s hidden in a picture frame.”

“My God. Did you . . . did you see Isabella do something to . . . ?”

“What?” But of course it was natural that a cop’s mind would go right there. “No, that’s not it.”