Fool Me Once

“Recovery.” A euphemism for a rehab center. That explained it. The irony-the rich taking over a beautiful secluded spot that used to house nuns who probably vowed to live a life of poverty. Then again, look at this place. Some vow of poverty. Maybe it wasn’t irony exactly, but it was something.

The golf cart pulled up to what looked like a dormitory.

“Here we are. Just go through the doors there.”

She was buzzed in by yet another security guard, and sure enough, she had to walk through a metal detector. A woman met her on the other side with a smile and a handshake.

“Hello, my name is Melissa Lee. I’m a facilitator here at the Solemani.”

“Facilitator.” Another all-purpose euphemism.

“Christopher asked me to take you to the solarium. I’ll show you the way.”

Melissa Lee’s heels clacked and echoed in the empty corridor. The place was convent silent except for those heels. If you knew that-and you had to if you worked here every day-why would you choose to disrupt the solace with your shoes? Was it part of a uniform? Was it intentional? Why not just wear sneakers or something?

And why was she thinking of something so banal anyway?

Christopher Swain stood to greet her like a nervous date. He wore a well-tailored black suit, white shirt, thin black tie. He had the kind of facial growth that took some planning to look unplanned. His hair was skater boy with blond highlights. He was good-looking, albeit trying too hard. Whatever had brought him to this place had etched lines on his face. He probably didn’t like that. He’d probably add Botox or fillers, but Maya thought it gave the otherwise privileged look some character.

“Can I get you anything?” Melissa Lee asked.

Maya shook her head.

Melissa gave half a smile and looked at Swain. With touching concern in her voice, she said, “Are you sure you want me to leave, Christopher?”

“Yes, please.” His tone was tentative. “I think this is an important step for me.”

Melissa nodded. “I do too.”

“So we will need some privacy.”

“I understand. I’ll be nearby just in case. Just holler.”

Melissa gave Maya another half smile and left. She closed the doors behind her.

“Wow,” Swain said when they were alone. “You’re really beautiful.”

Maya didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept her mouth closed.

He smiled and openly looked her up and down. “You’re stunning and you give off that air of unattainability. Like you’re above it all.” He shook his head. “I bet Joe couldn’t resist you the moment he saw you, am I right?”

Now was not the time to play a feminist card or get offended. She needed him to keep talking. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Let me guess. Joe gave you some cheesy pickup line, something funny but maybe self-deprecating and vulnerable. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

“Swept you off your feet, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Oh man, that Joe. The dude was three steps above charismatic when he wanted to be.” Swain shook his head again as the smile started to fall away. “So is he really dead? Joe, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know. No news in here. One of the rules. No social media, no Internet, no outside world. We get to check our email once a day. That’s how I saw your message. Once I did… Well, my doctor said it would be okay to read the news report. I have to say, I was shocked to hear about Joe. Would you like to sit down?”

The solarium was clearly a more recent addition that was trying to fit in with the old and not totally succeeding. There was a snapped-together vibe about it. The roof was a dome with faux stained glass. There were plants, sure, but fewer than one might imagine in a room dubbed a solarium. Two leather chairs sat in the middle of the room facing each other. Maya took one, Swain the other.

“I can’t believe he’s dead.”

Yeah, Maya thought, she was getting that a lot.

“You were there, right? When he was shot?”

“Yes,” Maya said.

“The news reports said you escaped unharmed.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I ran away.”

Swain looked at her as though he didn’t entirely believe that. “It must have been scary for you.”

She said nothing.

“The news outlets described it as a robbery gone wrong.”

“Yes.”

“But we both know that’s not true, don’t we, Maya?” He put his hand through his hair. “You wouldn’t be here if it were just a robbery.”

His manner was starting to unnerve her. “Right now,” Maya said, “I’m just trying to put together what happened.”

“It’s incredible,” he said. “I still can’t believe it.”

There was an odd smile on his face.

“Believe what?”

“That Joe is dead. Sorry for harping on that. It’s just that he was… I don’t know if it would be right to say he was ‘so full of life.’ That’s so hackneyed, isn’t it? But let’s say Joe was a life force. You know? He seemed so strong, so powerful, like a fire that raged so out of control you could never put it out. There was almost something-I know this is silly-immortal about him…”

Maya shifted in her seat. “Christopher?”

He was gazing out a window.

“You were on the yacht the night Andrew went overboard.”

He didn’t move.

“What really happened to his brother Andrew?”