Playing the Game

by Stephanie Queen

  “Right now I feel like you’ve already chewed me up and spit me out.”

  “If I have, I don’t recall it.” She moved to the door to stand in front of him, stopping him on the threshold with a caress of his chin. She didn’t want him to leave. But she decided she had nothing to apologize for. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” She gave him her best seductive smile, determined that her disappointment wouldn’t show through. He paused, staring back into her eyes with his piercing blue ones. She wasn’t so sure that he didn’t see through her act.

  “No. I may regret it in the morning, but at least I’ll be in one piece.” He removed the scowl from his face, finally treating her to his signature grin, and she automatically smiled back. She knew he’d seen through her, but she felt helpless to stop her eager response to his smile. She better watch her behavior. She was not acting cool and controlled at all. But then that was probably because she didn’t feel cool and controlled—at all.

  “I’ll let you leave unscathed. This time.” She stood on her toes and kissed his lopsided lips, then bounced back down on her heels. He stood staring, watching her. She felt unnerved. She almost had to say something more, but instead he did.

  “I’m hardly leaving unscathed.” His smile was gone and he continued to stare her in the eyes as if he had something to add. She waited. Her anticipation surely showed in her face. But he turned and shoved through the door into the night without another word.

  She used every ounce of her self-control to keep herself from calling after him. Of course he was referring to his hand and the punch in the gut he took from Paul when he made that last comment. But she couldn’t convince herself of that. She slowly turned back to the party.

  Chapter 14

  PI MELVIN Lipman called Penelope on the phone this time. He had hot information. But Penelope insisted they talk in person. She insisted he bring a complete report.

  “I have a signed statement from a solid witness,” he said, handing the folder over. The excitement was in her eyes, but she didn’t open the folder. She led them to two chairs by the window and sat with exaggerated decorum.

  “Tell me about it, Mr. Lipman. Briefly.” There was only the hint of a smile on her lips.

  “It seems that Roxanne and Don had a very public argument at a party a couple of months before Don’s death. There were dozens of witnesses. Two of them were particularly cooperative and vocal. It seems Ms. Monet had been flirting and Don caught her in a clinch. He tried to drag her home, but she wouldn’t budge and had some words to say, apparently not caring who heard them. Don yelled back. They both made various threats. She promised divorce and he promised death. Pretty dramatic stuff. Had the whole party in a tizzy. Of course their separation followed shortly thereafter.” Melvin noticed Penelope turn pink and then white during his summation of events. He also noted the beads of sweat on her upper lip.

  “A motive could be established. Not greed, but something more powerful. We could make a strong case that she had another love interest and wanted out of the marriage. It was obvious he wasn’t going to cooperate with a divorce. At the very least we could propose a possible scenario—an argument with an ensuing fight where she pushed him off the deck.” He paused and thought about whether he should voice the possibility that Roxanne had pushed him in self-defense, but decided in the interest of retaining his job he’d keep that to himself. “Second degree murder.”

  “I spoke with the coroner. Accidental death was never established strongly enough to stand up at an inquest. We can convince him to reevaluate,” Penelope said. “In the meantime, you work on loosening her ironclad alibi. Then we’ll go to the police again. They’ll re-open the case for further investigation into a possible murder.”

  “Sorry about the house.” Melvin said. She winced. Melvin knew she’d never get the house.

  “That was only a minor setback. The real victory will be seeing her thrown in jail.”

  “Still it’s a valuable property.”

  “You’ll find that I don’t dwell long on defeat.” She stood and dismissed him.

  But Melvin couldn’t help the feeling that there was more here than she was telling him about. Things didn’t add up. The death might not be accidental, but he doubted the woman murdered her husband. It seemed unlikely from a physics perspective alone.

  But then if Penelope Boswell didn’t care about the truth, why should he? Still, it was hard to quell his natural curiosity about what really happened. He shrugged. Occupational hazard. He always wanted to know the real answer.

  Roxanne strolled into his office with a carefree smile on her face. Her special fund-raising campaign had finally got off the ground.

  “Finally,” Al said.

  “Let me enjoy the reprieve, Al. things are looking up today. So what’s the business we needed to talk about?”

  “Sit. You remember I filed for a dismissal of Penelope’s suit trying to claim the house was part of her estate? Well we got the dismissal. The only problem is her lawyers filed another lawsuit.”

  “What? What kind of lawsuit?” She had a bad feeling about this judging from the grim look on Al’s face. She sat back in her chair and felt the muscles in her shoulders tensing.

  “She filed a wrongful death claim against you. She’s suing you in civil court for Don’s death. The media already has the story.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out. All the oxygen escaped instead and she felt lightheaded.

  “Don’t worry about the suit—no judge is going to take this seriously. I’m having another motion to dismiss put together as we speak. But the press is going to have a field day. I’m sorry. It would be impossible to put your house on the market right now. When the suit is dismissed and the story blows over…”

  “How long?” she croaked the words. But before Al could answer, her cell phone rang with Laura’s tone. She answered it.

  “Are you sitting down, Rox? I just found out both Barry Dennis and Paul Paris are going to appear at the Children’s Mercy Hospital Christmas party. Hank Sillman invited them. Since we decided to let them air the party as a TV special, they’ve taken control. Hank wants them for the ratings. I’m afraid if I tell him they are arch enemies, he’ll just play that angle up to ratchet up the ratings more.” Laura stopped talking.

  Roxanne’s insides clenched at the thought of the two of them in the same room. She rubbed the back of her neck that felt like it was made of steel cable. Or maybe it was the albatross of the house that felt like it was tied around her neck like a noose that made her neck feel so tense.

  “Roxanne are you there?” Laura said into the phone.

  Al gave her a questioning look.

  “I have to go. We’ll deal with it.” Somehow. She looked at Al. “Soldier on. Keep writing those motions.” She thought of Penelope. “I’m not folding.” She stood.

  “Some day Penelope will stop trying to get the house and stop lobbying for a murder investigation, then things would be normal again,” she said. Almost. The battered and bloody image of Donald’s dead body would never be erased from her memory. But it might be easier for her to figure out how to move past her bad marriage and Don’s death if she weren’t worried about going to jail for murder.

  “I’m glad you’re taking it so well. I was worried…” Al said.

  “I need to go now.”

  “You’ll need to sign some papers first. I have an appointment coming up, with Barry Dennis as a matter of fact. He said you’d mentioned me as a good lawyer. Thanks. He should be here any minute,” Al said.

  After her initial surprise, Roxanne decided this was a good thing. “That’s great. I need to see Barry. What does he need a lawyer for?”

  “Paul Paris’s lawyers filed suit yesterday to try and secure custody of his daughter Lindy. Didn’t you see it in the papers?”

  “Damn. I didn’t see it. I quit reading the paper like most people,” she admitted as she took the copy of the morning Globe that Al pushed toward her. She read the
headline aloud. “Baseball Player Challenges Hoop Star—In Custody Battle.” She could hardly bring herself to read beyond that point, but she did. Skimming the lines, she felt disgust well up until she felt like ripping the paper to shreds.

  “How is it possible for people to get away with printing stuff like this? Do they ever think of the children involved? I’m going to have to call the hospital and make sure Lindy doesn’t see this, and more importantly that no one mentions it to her.”

  “It’s a juicy story, Rox. You’re not going to stop people from talking about it.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure Lindy gets my version of the story to arm herself with.”

  “Your version? Are you in this fight too? Tell me, whose side are you on? Need I guess?”

  “I’m not fighting. And that’s what I have to make Lindy understand—that this is not a fight. It’s a misunderstanding about a difficult situation. And that both her fathers love her very much.”

  “I think you’ll have to convince Barry and Paul of that story first.” He gave a derisive chuckle. “You want to know my opinion? I think she’s Paul’s kid. Has been all along and should continue to be.”

  That brought a real frown to Roxanne’s face as she tossed the newspaper onto his desk. She pushed the spurt of anger back. “Where are those papers I have to sign?”

  “You don’t want to debate the issue with me?” He gave her a smile of mock disappointment.

  “You don’t want to debate the issue with me. You wouldn’t represent Barry if that’s what you really thought. It’s just your jealousy talking.” That should end the subject for discussion, although her anger still lingered.

  Al went quiet and she saw his neck go pink as he withdrew some papers from a folder placed in the center of his neat desk. “Here you go. Sign all the tagged pages.” He gestured for her to take his seat behind the desk for the procedure.

  She did not like Al’s attitude. At least he didn’t dispute that he wouldn’t represent Barry if he really thought he didn’t deserve custody. She’d worry about that later. She went around the desk, sat and signed.

  “You never said how long this could all take—how long I might be stuck with the house?” She finished signing and looked at him, feeling her chest tighten.

  “Could be up to a year with the way the courts are. But a year will go by in a snap.”

  She thought about where she was a year ago. A lot had happened, but she realized, in spite of all her current problems, she was better off being where she was today. On her own. Except for Don’s death. If only he hadn’t been so crazy, he’d be alive today.

  Roxanne couldn’t suppress the knowledge that she would be saying “if only” about Don for the rest of her life.

  The door opened. Barry walked in.

  “Did someone invite you to this party?” Barry looked at her with a lopsided frown.

  It was a much less enthusiastic greeting than she’d hoped for.

  In spite of them both, or to spite them both, she walked up to Barry, and taking his face in her hands, she planted a full kiss on his lips. She heard Al suck in a breath while she felt Barry’s hesitation. She stepped back. “Good luck,” she said, and meant it. She knew whose side she was on and now both these men knew. “I was just leaving.” She grabbed her bag and walked past him, but he grabbed her arm.

  “No, don’t go. We have to talk anyway.” Barry still wasn’t smiling, but at least his look had softened. She wondered what he wanted to talk about. He never wanted to talk, or at least he never admitted he wanted to talk before.

  “Right now you and I, Barry, need to go over your response to the TRO request. The preliminary injunction hearing is in an hour,” Al said. He looked at Roxanne. “Maybe you should wait out…”

  “TRO?” Barry asked.

  “Temporary restraining order.”

  They both looked at Al.

  “Listen, I want some straight answers. Does Paris have a chance? Could the courts possibly give him custody of my daughter? Can he actually stop me from seeing her?” Barry asked.

  “If they were convinced it was in her best interest.”

  “Is it?” Barry shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and stepped to where he could look out the window.

  “Only you can answer that.” Al said.

  Roxanne couldn’t believe Barry had even asked the question. “Are you crazy? Barry Dennis, she’s your daughter. You damn well better show her you know it. And that you want her.” She leveled a stare at Barry and didn’t let up.

  “Who the hell are you? My conscience? I’ve been nothing but an uncle to her all these years and you know it.”

  “And Paul Paris was nothing but her mother’s husband. Her second husband.”

  “I’m not in any position to raise a young girl.”

  “Paul Paris isn’t in any better position.” She wheeled around to Al. “Are you going to sit here and let him make excuses?”

  “Yes. If he doesn’t really want custody, I’m not going to bother representing him.” Al looked at Barry. “You might both have a problem with custody if the maternal grandparents decide to petition for it.”

  “What?” they said simultaneously.

  “You heard correctly. I received a call today from their lawyer. Just an inquiry at this stage.”

  “But a little girl needs her father,” Roxanne insisted, unable to stop herself from pitying Lindy as she remembered her own father’s lack of attention.

  “That depends on the father,” Al said. They both looked at Barry. His eyes were hard.

  “I’m her father. And I will retain custody. With or without your help. I’m responsible for her, whether I asked to be or not, and it’s time for me to face it. Are you going to represent my interests in this?”

  “You want full custody? Not just partial custody like before, when her mother was alive?”

  “Full custody. Her mother isn’t alive anymore. That’s something I can’t get around. No more taking the easy way out. I don’t want my daughter being raised by her grandparents.”

  “All right. I’ll represent you on this. Be warned. The media’s going to love it. And…” Al turned to Roxanne. She smiled with her pleasure at Barry’s decision. Lindy would be so happy.

  “And what?” Roxanne said.

  “It would be better if you stayed out of it. It should be cut and dry, but the publicity factor could affect you both.”

  “You can’t be serious, Al? The press hasn’t said anything for a long time about Don’s death. How could they since I denied the inheritance? This private detective Penelope has snooping around is not going to find anything. There’s nothing to find. Soon he’ll prove what we already know—that Penelope is letting her vindictive imagination get the better of her. Then that will be the end of it.”

  “That’s true except they have the new lawsuit now. And except the part about the PI not finding anything. I’ll have to talk to you about that later.” He turned to Barry. “I’m advising you as your attorney to steer clear of Roxanne for the duration. Roxanne should stay away from Lindy. It’s in your best interest. In Lindy’s best interest.”

  Roxanne held her breath. Tension froze her. Could she really harm his custody battle? And what did Al mean about the PI finding something? She felt dizzy waiting to hear Barry’s verdict. He took his time, but finally spoke.

  “I want Roxanne to come with us to the hearing,” Barry said in a sure voice.

  Al pursed his lips. “You’re paying me. But I’m advising against this.”

  Barry was full of surprises, Roxanne thought. This one made her want to hug him on the spot, but something told her not to press her luck.

  The judge’s chambers of the county’s Probate and Family Court were not particularly plush, but as they were shown through the doors, Roxanne felt relieved. She hated how quickly the media could turn a serious legal proceeding into a three-ring circus. The judge had been rightly upset at the number and volume of reporters and cameras outside. The ju
dge was very suspicious of Paul Paris’s lawyer, insinuating he may have tipped them off earlier.

  Roxanne had her own suspicions on that score. She sat next to Barry on the worn leather couch and Al squeezed in next to her. Just as she was thinking how cozy this was—not—the judge slammed the door behind them.

  “All right, people. I’ll pretend that fiasco never happened. What gives?” The judge looked directly at Paul Paris’s attorney, a man named Scotty. She folded her arms. She was a big woman and Roxanne would have been intimidated if she were Scotty.

  “Your Honor, if you please, we’re here on behalf of a little girl,” Scotty began in a drawling southern accent that sounded ridiculously out of place to Roxanne.

  “Save it, Scotty. Get down to business and be quick about it.”

  “Mr. Paris is petitioning to have the custody revoked from Mr. Dennis for Lindy Dennis, whose mother recently perished in a horrible accident. Your Honor, the little girl, only seven years old, has suffered gravely, both physically and emotionally, for the past seven weeks. Her natural father, who has never spent much time with her, has only visited her at the hospital on a handful of occasions.”

  “You want me to extend a TRO because he’s not been visiting enough? That sounds a lot like cutting off the nose to spite the face.”

  “Oh no. There’s more.”

  “Get to it.”

  “Your Honor, may I speak?” Al asked.

  “Not yet, Al. Be patient. Go on, Scotty, and please get to the point,” the judge directed as she took her seat.

  “Your Honor, we can show that it is more detrimental at this time to the child to have her hopes built up only to be dashed by sporadic visits and rash promises by this irresponsible, uncaring man, who admitted on public television that the game of basketball is more important to him than his own daughter. We have expert opinions from respected child psychologists to substantiate this. We assert that Mr. Dennis brings further danger of severe and lasting psychological damage to the child by his association with this woman, present here, known as Roxanne Monet. Ms. Monet, according to a wrongful death suit filed today, is currently under suspicion of murdering her late wealthy husband.” Scotty turned to stare Roxanne in the eye.