Deadly Exposure

by Linda Turner

  Looking past her, he frowned as he brought his gaze back to hers. “You have someone to help you, don’t you? You can’t get your furniture upstairs all by yourself.”

  “I hired a moving company,” she informed him coolly. “They delivered the larger pieces this morning. I can handle the smaller things myself.”

  Thanks, but no thanks. She never said the words, but Tony got the message nonetheless. “So you don’t need my help,” he said. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “No—”

  “Good.” His grin wide, he took the box of personal items from her and laughed when she tried to snatch it back from him. “Oh, no, you don’t. You just said you needed my help.”

  “I did not!”

  “Sure you did. So where do you want this?”

  Irritation knitting her forehead, she glared at him. “Are you always this persisten”

  “No. Sometimes I’m worse. It drives my family crazy.” Grinning, he turned and started up the stairs.

  If Lily hadn’t been so frustrated, she would have laughed. What did it take to tell this man no? “I’m not a helpless female, you know,” she called up the stairs after him. “I packed everything in my car without any help—I can certainly carry it up the stairs by myself!”

  “I never said you couldn’t,” he retorted from the top of the stairs as he returned to the landing after setting the box just inside her front door. “But why would you want to when you can have someone help you? I’m not an ax murderer. If you don’t believe me, ask around. All the little old ladies around here will tell you I’m a real sweetheart.”

  “I’m not a little old lady!”

  “No, you’re not,” he chuckled as he started back down the stairs. “I noticed that right off.” He had, in fact, noticed a heck of a lot more than that. She had a heart-shaped face, a pert nose and a stubborn chin. Top that with the curly blond hair she’d pinned on top of her head and a slender little body with curves in all the right places, and you had trouble with a capital T.

  She was going to add some spark to the old place, he thought with a smile. Life could be on the verge of getting damn interesting.

  “Just for the record,” he said, “I like helping ladies—old, young and in-between. So let’s get the rest of your stuff. Hold the door, okay?”

  Not waiting for an answer, he made three quick trips to her car, then upstairs, and in a matter of moments he’d unloaded her car and stacked everything neatly in her living room. “All done,” he announced with a grin. “I’d offer to help you unpack, but somehow I don’t think you’d let me get anywhere near your underwear.”

  Biting her lip, Lily almost choked on a laugh. The man was incorrigible. “You thought right. Now that we’ve got that settled…”

  “I’ll take you to dinner to welcome you to the neighborhood. Don’t say no. I know a great Italian restaurant.”

  He was speaking of his uncle’s place, of course, and had the circumstances been different, Lily had to admit she might have been tempted. He was, after all, an incredibly good-looking man, not to mention charming, and the twinkle in his eye was hard to resist. She wasn’t, however, looking for a man, a date, or anything that even resembled a relationship. For once in her life, she didn’t have her father or a fiancé telling her what to do or how to do it, and she planned to keep it that way.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. I’ve just got too much to do.”

  There was no doubting her sincerity…or the stubborn set of her chin. Studying her, Tony had always liked a challenge, and he had to admit that one as pretty as Lily Fitzgerald definitely intrigued him. With time, he liked to think he had a better-than-even chance of changing her mind, but that was the catch. When did he have time? He worked long hours at the police station, had his son every chance he could, and was lucky if he got five hours of sleep a night.

  His smile rueful, he said, “Maybe another time, then. If you need anything, just holler. If I’m not around, you can usually find Angelo downstairs in the restaurant.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

  Leaving her to her unpacking, he let himself out and tried to take comfort in the fact that even if he could find time to squeeze a woman into his busy schedule, he didn’t really want one. The last one he’d let into his life had caused him nothing but grief.

  His good humor faded at the thought of Janice. He’d fallen for her like a ton of bricks the moment he’d met her, and as soon as he’d been able to talk her into it, he’d rushed her down the aisle before she could change her mind. They should have grown old together. Instead, they’d only been married seven years when she started fooling around on him. The ink hadn’t even been dry on their divorce papers when she walked down the aisle and married another man.

  He wanted to hate her for that, but how could he? Because of her, he had a son, and she hadn’t tried to take him away from him when they’d divorced. She had custody, but she was very generous with visitation. He had Quentin as much as she did. More, in fact. Janice was seldom home. Tony knew that she loved Quentin, but all her focus was on her career and making a name for herself at the high-powered law office where she worked. She worked late nearly every night and sometimes had to go into the office on weekends.

  He, on the other hand, could adjust his schedule when he needed to. As a D.C. police officer, he was able to work a shift that allowed him to be with Quentin in the afternoon and for dinner on the nights Janice worked late. So Quentin didn’t have to spend any more time than necessary with Larry, his new stepfather, who didn’t have a clue how to get along with a nine-year-old boy. By the time Tony took Quentin home, Janice was usually just getting home from work. According to Quentin, all he generally saw of his mother was when she tucked him into bed.

  Janice had the weekend free for once, however, so he didn’t have Quentin. Normally, Tony would have worked, but just yesterday, a co-worker had asked him to trade shifts with him, so he’d worked a double shift and had today off. Heading down the stairs, he could hear laughter and the clatter of dishes coming from his uncle’s restaurant and knew without looking at his watch that the dinner crowd was already gathering. Miss Independence upstairs might not want his help moving into her new apartment but he knew his uncle would appreciate an extra pair of hands. The waitstaff was usually shorthanded, especially on a Saturday.

  Stepping through the stairwell door into the restaurant kitchen, he moved to the dining room and wasn’t surprised to find the place packed. Angelo’s Italian Restaurant was famous not only for its food but for his uncle’s hospitality. He catered to families, and over the years, his regular customers had become like family. They came to Angelo’s to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and graduations, and they came when they were down and needed a sympathetic ear.

  There were no sad faces today, however. There was a line of customers waiting at the front door, every table was full, and waiters were hurrying to keep up with orders. And in the middle of the organized chaos was his uncle. Totally unruffled, he was in his element as he seated customers, directed waiters, and even bussed tables when everyonelse was busy.

  Spying Tony immediately, he grinned as he grabbed some menus from the stack by the front door. “It’s about time you got here. Carlos is getting married today, Thomas broke his arm, and Roger had car trouble and won’t be in for another hour. How about taking over the private dining room for me? It’s Mrs. Stanlowski’s eighty-fourth birthday, and the whole family’s there. You’ll make sure they have a good time.”

  He didn’t have to ask him twice. Mrs. S. had owned the candy store down on the corner for as long as Tony could remember, and she’d always been as sweet as the chocolate she sold. “Do we have a cake for her? What about champagne?”

  “It’s all taken care of,” Angelo assured him. “You just go see after Mrs. S.”

  “This’ll be the best birthday she ever had,” Tony promised. But before he could head for the private dining room, a wom
an slipped through the crowd waiting near the front door for a table and he found himself face-to-face with his ex-wife. Surprised, he stopped in his tracks, his gaze instinctively moving past her in search of Quentin. There was no sign of him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked sharply. “Where’s Quentin? Is something wrong?”

  Tall and regal and always cool to the touch, Janice said, “He’s fine. Really,” she insisted when he looked unconvinced. “He’s at a birthday party with some school friends. Are you busy? I need to talk to you.”

  If another woman had said such a thing, Tony would have laughed and told her to look around. Of course he was busy when the restaurant was packed! But for as long as he’d known Janice, she’d had an irritating tendency to assume the world revolved around herself. That, obviously, hadn’t changed.

  He should have told her to take a hike—Mrs. S. was waiting, dammit, and Janice had a hell of a nerve walking in here expecting him to drop everything just because she wanted to talk to him! She could call him on his day off.

  But even as he opened his mouth to tell her they’d have to talk another time, he shut his mouth with a snap. When they’d divorced, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t fight with her the way most people did with their exes. She hadn’t always made it easy for him to keep that promise. They’d been divorced two years, and in that time everything had to be done her way. He liked talking face-to-face, but if she had something to discuss with him about Quentin, she either e-mailed him or called him. Why the change? What the devil was she up to?

  “What’s this about, Janice?” he asked, scowling. “What’s going on?”

  When she hesitated, Angelo, who’d been watching their entire exchange from across the dining room, stepped forward and said quietly, “Why don’t you two talk in my office? It’ll be quieter in there and you won’t be interrupted.”

  Tony almost said no. There was a knot in his gut that warned him that he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say, but she’d already headed for Angelo’s office off the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, he followed.

  “Okay,” he growled, shutting the door behind him the second they were both inside. “What is it?”

  Her cool blue eyes narrowed at his curt tone, but she only said, “I wanted you to know that I’m changing law firms. I got a new job.”

  Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Perplexed, he said, “Okay. Congratulations. So what’s that got to do with me?”

  “It’s in Florida. I start the second week in October.”

  “Like I said…congratulations,” he began, still not seeing what her change in employment had to do with him. Then it hit him. “Oh, no, you’re not! If you’re trying to tell me you’re taking Quentin with you, you can think again. It’s not going to happen.”

  Far from impressed with his roar of outrage, she warned, “Don’t try to fight me on this, Tony. I have custody. That gives me the right to take him with me wherever I go. This is a wonderful opportunity for me—”

  His eyes narrowed angrily. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? What about Quentin? Have you even thought about what this is going to do to him? You’re taking him away from his father, his friends at school, everything familiar. How is that good for him, Janice? Explain that one to me, because right now, I don’t see how this new job could be good for anyone but you.”

  “He’ll adjust,” she said with a shrug. “He has to, and so do you. I’m not passing up a chance to work in one of the most prestigious law firms in the country just because you and Quentin might not like it. You don’t have any say in the matter, so get used to it. He’s going with me and Larry to Miami and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  Chapter 2

  She stormed out, leaving Tony swearing after her. Damn her! How dare she threaten to take his son away from him! She knew how close they were. They went fishing together, watched sports together, cooked dinner together just about every evening. Quentin was his pride and joy, the rock that grounded him. From the time he’d first held him when he was only a few minutes old, his son had taught him what life was all about. He couldn’t lose him. Janice might not care about what this would do to him, but what about Quentin? He’d be devastated. Surely Janice had to know that. Why was she doing this?

  “Tony? Are you all right? I saw Janice leave. She looked a little miffed. What’s wrong?”

  Glancing up from his tortured thoughts to find his uncle standing in the doorway, Tony laughed without humor. “What’s wrong? Everything! Janice is moving to Florida and she’s taking Quentin with her.”

  “What? She can’t do that! Who’s going to take care of him after school and cook dinner for him every night when she’s working? That robot husband of hers? He doesn’t even like the boy.”

  It was that, more than anything, that tore Tony apart. From the moment he’d first laid eyes on Larry Coffman, he’d known he was a man who didn’t like children. Janice had claim he was just reserved, but Tony saw right through him. He was autocratic, condescending and had no sense of humor. For a nine-year-old boy like Quentin, that could only spell misery.

  “She refused to even listen to reason,” he said bitterly. “He’s her son. She has sole custody and she can take him wherever she likes. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

  “Sure there is,” Angelo said. “You can fight for full custody.”

  If he hadn’t been so miserable, Tony would have laughed at the mere idea of taking on Janice in a courtroom. “Are you serious? She’s an attorney, Angelo! How can I take her to court? She works with a whole office of high-dollar attorneys who’d be only too willing to help her. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “You don’t know that,” Angelo said with a frown. “Just because you can’t afford a big-league lawyer doesn’t mean you can’t find someone who’s good. And if you’re worried that the cards are stacked against you because the mothers always get the kids, times have changed. It’s not like the old days. I know a lot of fathers who have custody of their children. You know Chris Barrili. He has his twin daughters—”

  “Because his ex-wife is an alcoholic and set the house on fire when she was drunk,” Tony said dryly. “That’s a different matter completely. Janice isn’t a bad mother. She doesn’t drink or use drugs, and she’d cut off her arm before she’d put Quentin in danger. She’s just so damn indifferent. All she cares about is her career.”

  “You got that right,” his uncle retorted. “I’ve never seen a mother who spends so little time with her son. You’ve been keeping a record of when you have him, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, but I only did that in case the IRS audited me for claiming him and I had to prove how often he was in my custody.”

  “I know, and you were smart to do that. But those records also prove how little Janice has the boy,” he pointed out. “I think a judge would be interested in that.”

  Unconvinced, Tony said, “I don’t know. She’s a lawyer, Angelo, and a damn good one, at that. She’s not going to roll over and give me Quentin just because I want him. There’s nothing she loves more than a good fight. And she knows judges.”

  “So?”

  “So if I was crazy enough to fight for custody, she’d pull a few strings and have the judge in her pocket before we even stepped in the courtroom. What’s the point?”

  “Your son,” Angelo said quietly. “He’s the point.”

  His words struck Tony in the heart. He was right, of course. Quentin was the point. And nothing was more important than his happiness and security. If Tony didn’t find a way to stop her, Janice would take him a thousand miles away to Florida and leave him with a stepfather who didn’t even like him while she spent all her time at the office making partner. Just thinking about how lonely and unhappy Quentin would be sickened him.

  “Don’t misunderstand me,” he told his uncleffly. “It’s not that I don’t want him. You know I do. I’ve always wanted him, but when we divorced, Janice wouldn’t e
ven consider giving me full custody. When she promised to let me see him whenever I wanted if I didn’t fight her on custody, I went along with it because I knew I would have Quentin most of the time, anyway. It never entered my head that she’d one day decide to move.”

  “You should talk to your lawyer. He needs to know what’s going on.”

  “It won’t do any good. She has the right to live where she wants.”

  And that was what was so frustrating. Anguish twisting in his gut, he’d never felt so helpless in his life. “I can’t lose him, Angelo,” he said huskily. “I speak to him every day. We have dinner together nearly every night. How can I help him with his homework if he’s in Florida? My phone bill will be through the roof. And when will I be able to afford to see him? You know what my salary is. With what I make, I’ll be lucky if I can fly down there once a year!”

  “Janice is the one taking him away,” Angelo replied. “She should be the one who has to pay to send him home.”

  “Even if she does, I’ll still only get to see him a couple of times a year.” Despair filled him at the thought. Swearing softly, he said, “I don’t know what to do. If I sue for custody, Quentin will be put in the position of having to pick between me and Janice. Regardless of what I think about her, she is his mother and he loves her. He won’t thank me for making him choose between the two of us.”

  “But if you don’t, you’ll lose him.”

  “Exactly,” he replied grimly. “And it scares the hell out of me. If I thought I had a chance of beating her in court, I’d go to court tomorrow if I could. But I can’t see a judge granting me custody just because Janice is moving away.”