by Joan Kilby
“I’ve got something.” He put a printout of names and addresses in her hands. “Halfway down.”
“Just tell me what I’m looking at,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Inmates of the prison where Moresco was incarcerated.” Riley stood next to her shoulder and pointed to a name. “Matteo Tibaldi, close friend of Moresco’s cousin Rocky. Matteo wasn’t on your list of Moresco’s contacts because he was out of action, serving fifteen years for manslaughter and drug dealing. He was released eighteen months ago. Lives in Williamstown with his wife.”
Paula turned her head, searching Riley’s face. “Please tell me…”
Riley grinned. “Her name is Tina.”
Paula gave a whoop and threw her arms around Riley’s neck, squeezing hard. He lifted her off her feet before setting her back down.
She pushed away, tugging her shirt down at the hem. “Forgot myself for a moment. Good work. Incident Room. Now.”
On her way there she stopped in John’s office to inform him they had an address. But looking at the assembled team, she quailed. Herself, Riley and Delinksy. They were so few in number.
Peterson hurried in and slid into a chair. “The boss told me to report to you.”
Yes. John had made good on his word.
“Here’s the plan,” she said. “We’ll surround the house. Delinksy and Peterson at the back door, Riley at the front—but stay out of sight. I’ll enter.”
“I don’t like it,” Riley said. “I’ll go in with you. Delinsky at the back, Peterson covers the front.”
“If you go in, too, we look like a couple of cops,” Paula argued. “By myself, I might be able to pass on the mommy card. If I can take Jamie out of there without a scene, so much the better. I don’t want any civilians injured. I don’t want my son traumatized.”
Riley scowled and looked as though he wanted to say more. Paula ignored him. He didn’t have to like it. He just had to back her up.
“Henning, you ride with me,” Paula said. “Let’s get moving. It’s an hour and a half drive.”
“I bet you can make it in an hour fifteen.”
“You’re on.” It was easier to joke around than think about what was ahead.
They were still bantering as they exited to the parking lot.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
Paula spun to see Jackson and Crucek approach in full uniform. “I thought you two were off.”
“What, and miss all the fun?” Crucek demanded.
She’d held it together till now, but the thought of these guys coming in for her and her son almost made her burst into tears.
“You guys haven’t showed so much initiative since you pulled that dumb stunt with the coffee sugar. How’d you know, anyway?”
Jackson nodded at Riley. “Wyatt Earp called us.”
Riley snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
She didn’t look at him. If they still had something between them, it would be there when this was over. If they didn’t… Well, she wasn’t going to think about that now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PARTY GUESTS WERE leaving by the time Riley and Paula cruised past the Williamstown house in the unmarked car. Riley stopped for couples and families crossing the road, giving them ample time to get a good look at the house and surrounding garden. It was a two-story, rendered brick home set on a trim lawn bordered by a low box hedge. A high wide portico over the doorway formed a second-floor balcony.
A black Ford sedan pulled out from the side of the road ahead. Riley drove into the vacated slot. Paula was on the radio to Jackson and Delinksy, finalizing the details. She sounded calm but her knuckles were white where she gripped the radio and he could feel her tension like the hum of a high-voltage wire.
“We don’t make a move till the last guests are out,” she said, going over the plan once more. “I will go in. If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, Riley comes in. If you don’t get a signal from one of us within another ten minutes, Jackson and Crucek storm the back door, Delinsky and Peterson come through the front. Keep exits secure at all times. Do not fire unless directly ordered to. This is a family home.” She took a breath. “My child is in there.”
Waiting was hard. The guests lingered under the portico. Children ran around and had to be gathered. The transition to parked cars was leisurely, people stopping to chat more before departing. Some folks glanced curiously at Riley and Paula. She slunk low in her seat, a baseball cap pulled over her face. He studied a map, as if pretending to look for an address.
A rap on the glass made him glance up. A henna-haired woman in her sixties was smiling at him, motioning him to lower the window.
“I live around here,” she said. “Can I help? What address are you looking for?”
“We’re…trying to get back to the highway,” Riley said. “Do you know the best way?”
“Go to the end of the road, turn right, left at the roundabout and you’ll hit the main drag,” the woman said. “Keep going straight and you’ll come to the entrance to the freeway.”
“Right, left, straight.” Riley gave her a salute and folded his map. “Cheers.”
She tottered away on her high heels then looked back to give him an encouraging smile and to motion with her hand, right at the end of the street.
Riley started the engine. “Old busybody. Now I have to go around the block.”
“Make it two blocks.” Paula, still slumped in her seat, radioed to the others to let them know why they were moving.
Riley drove around for ten minutes and returned to the same parking spot he’d vacated, opposite the house on the left of Matteo and Tina’s.
“There are only two cars left on the street. They could belong to residents,” Riley said. “The front door is shut. The yard’s empty. What do you say? Is it time?”
Paula lifted her cap, assessed the situation. Even knowing how high the stakes were, her expression gave him a jolt. She wasn’t only a cop going after a criminal. She was a mother protecting her child. “It’s time.”
Being a woman, she checked herself in the mirror. To make sure she looked good for Moresco? Riley quashed the bite of jealousy. She couldn’t possibly feel that way now.
As she walked up to the door Riley had the urge to forget caution and storm the house, guns blazing, to take Jamie back. Instead he checked his watch and set the timer. This wasn’t the Wild West and it wasn’t Kabul. There was no place for cowboys in suburbia.
* * *
PAULA RANG THE BELL and stepped back. She glanced at her watch then took a deep calming breath.
A glamorous-looking blonde in her thirties wearing a stylish blue dress, five-inch heels and a warm smile opened the door. Her expression sobered as she registered Paula’s plain gray pants and button-down with its muted maroon stripes. Clearly she wasn’t a guest.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Paula didn’t want to flash her badge unless absolutely necessary. “I’m here to pick up Jamie Drummond. I’m his mother.”
The blonde glanced uncertainly over her shoulder. “Wait here. I’ll see what Nick says.” She shut the door in Paula’s face.
Paula counted to three, then stepped inside. The foyer was a marble vault accented with pink statues in recesses and an abundance of green foliage. To her left was the dining room, the table still bearing the remains of a buffet. To the right was a formal living room dotted with used glasses and plates.
From deeper in the house came the sound of voices. She was about to go looking when Nick appeared in the arched doorway to the dining room.
“So, you found me. Sadly, you’re too late for the party.” He sounded unconcerned.
Paula wasn’t fooled. “I’ve been worried about Jamie,” she said, matching his casual tone. “I’v
e come to take him home.”
“Why so soon, cara?” Nick shrugged negligently, the picture of reasonableness. “He’s having a wonderful time, getting to know his cousins.”
“Did you tell him you were his father?” A gritty edge crept into her voice.
“I didn’t have to. He made the connection himself.” Nick strolled into the foyer, circling Paula. “His aunties and grandmama and great-grandmama have been fawning over him for the past two days. I think he must be a lonely little boy.”
“Not two days. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes,” Paula corrected, turning to keep Nick from getting behind her. “He doesn’t belong here and you know it.”
But his barb hit home. Jamie had family whom he had a right to know.
“He doesn’t want to leave,” Nick said, now with a hint of steel to his voice. “He calls me Dad.”
“Bring him to me. Let him decide.” She was taking a risk. Jamie might be so hyped-up on candy and attention that he’d beg her to let him stay longer. But she only had Nick’s word that her son was happy.
“He’s busy,” Nick said. “And I’m not ready for him to go yet. You’ve had him for six years. I want time to get to know my son.”
Paula was getting impatient. “You mean before you go back to prison for child abduction and drug dealing?”
“Tsk, tsk. I keep telling you I’m not in the drug trade anymore. As for abduction, Jamie is my son. Taking him isn’t a crime. I checked.”
“It is if I have a court order granting me sole custody.” She fished in her back pocket and produced a copy of the order. As she did, she noted the time. “You’ve got two minutes to bring Jamie out.”
Nick glanced at the legal document. His expression hardened. “Or…?”
She shrugged. “Or I’ll take him.”
He chuckled. “No offense, I know you’re tough, but you wouldn’t stand a chance against the Moresco womenfolk.”
“Don’t make jokes where my son is concerned. My men have your house surrounded. If I’m not outside with Jamie in two minutes, they’re coming in. It would be better if you cooperated. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“My men are upstairs, with your men in the crosshairs,” Nick said calmly.
“You’re bluffing. My men wouldn’t show themselves.”
“Really?” Nick folded his arms across his chest. “When you don’t come out at the appointed time, one of them will emerge. Isn’t that your plan? Do you want to place a bet on whether he’ll reach the house?”
Riley. She couldn’t let him get in the firing line.
“Jamie might be happy right now but pretty soon he’s going to want his mum. What are you going to tell him if I’m not there?”
Nick considered this. “I could tell him you’ve gone overseas for business. That’s a good story. I could tell him he’s going to live with me from now on.”
Paula’s skin turned to ice. Was he insane? The conversation had taken on a surreal feeling. “You won’t get away with this.”
Nick shrugged. Clearly he felt he held all the cards.
“Jamie!” Paula yelled suddenly. “Jamie, I’m here.”
She pushed past Nick, taking the route through the dining room. He grabbed her arm. She wrenched free and started to run, calling for her son.
“Mummy!” Jamie’s voice came faintly from the rear of the house.
“I’m coming, mate.” Paula reached the modern kitchen, left chaotic from party preparations and the half-finished clean-up. From the foyer she could hear Nick calling upstairs in Italian.
Jamie burst through the door on the far side of the kitchen as Nick ran into the room. Paula crouched and opened her arms for her son. Jamie barreled toward her. Nick slung Paula out of the way. Then he picked up Jamie, holding the boy in front of him.
Nick backed toward the rear door, picking up a boning knife from the counter. He held it to Jamie’s throat. “Don’t come any closer.”
Oh, dear Lord. Paula sucked in a breath. “Don’t move, sweetheart. Keep very still.”
But Jamie was startled. He did move. The point of the knife dug into his tender neck. “Mummy. He’s hurting me.”
Riley stepped out from behind the door, gun drawn and aimed at Nick. “Let the boy go.” Without taking his eyes off Moresco he added to Paula, “Don’t worry, I’m in control.”
He meant of himself. She prayed he was right.
Where had he come from? How had he gotten through the firing line of Nick’s men upstairs? It didn’t matter. She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
“I don’t want anyone hurt,” she said. “Nick, drop the knife. Think about where you are. You don’t want to spoil your grandmother’s party.”
A flicker went over Nick’s face. Appealing to his sense of family was the right tactic. Family and ego drove him.
She was aware of a shuffling noise in the dining room but couldn’t take her eyes off Nick. The next words were hard but she forced herself. “Jamie’s your son. Do you really want him to think of you as a thug?”
“My son will carry on the Moresco name. He’s going to follow in my footsteps.”
“As a drug dealer?” Paula scoffed.
“I am a businessman!” Nick tightened his grip on Jamie. The boy whimpered, his eyes huge and fearful.
“Nicky?” an elderly woman said from behind Paula. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Grandmama. Go back upstairs.” Although Nick dismissed her, he spoke with deference.
Paula shifted until the newcomer was in her line of sight. Nick’s grandmother wore a black dress and had white hair piled on top of her head. She shuffled into the room with the help of a silver-topped cane.
Behind her came Loretta, his mother. Paula recognized her from her file photo. She was a big woman in a flowing blue caftan, with shoulder-length dark gray hair threaded with tiny braids.
Thank heavens the women had arrived. Paula moved her shoulders, releasing some of the tension. She spoke to the grandmother. “Please tell him to put down the knife.”
Grandma’s sharp black gaze darted from Nick to Paula. “Are you the cop?” she spat in a thick accent. “You keep my great-grandson a secret from his family. Is not right. Loretta, take the boy upstairs.”
“Come with Nonna, Jamie,” Loretta said kindly. “Nick, give him to me. You’re scaring the child.”
“No. He’s staying with me until Paula and her goon get out of this house.”
“Please let me go.” Jamie had tears in his eyes. “I want my mummy.”
Paula’s heart squeezed. Jamie only called her mummy when he was really tired or scared.
Nick lowered the knife and turned Jamie in his arms to look into his face. “Why, bambino?” he said tenderly. “I can give you so much. Any toy you want, cousins to play with, all the cake and ice cream you want.”
“If you let me go, I’ll come another day.” Jamie sniffled. “Please…Dad.”
Paula held her breath.
“You see?” Nick said. “He calls me Dad. How could I give him up?”
“Can’t you see he’s frightened of you?” Paula said. “Let him go.”
“Nicky, look out!” Loretta shouted.
When Moresco had lowered the knife Riley moved in swiftly. He wrenched Nick’s hand and twisted it behind his back, pushing the barrel of his gun into the drug dealer’s neck. The knife clattered to the floor.
“Jamie, get a wriggle on,” Riley said. “Go, now.”
Jamie squirmed his way out of Nick’s grasp and slithered to the floor. He ran to Paula. She gathered him in her arms and held him tightly. Her throat was clogged with unshed tears. She had her baby back.
Over the top of Jamie’s head Paula saw Riley handcuff Nick after a brief struggle. Beads of perspiratio
n stood out on Riley’s forehead but his gaze was steady, as was his grip on his gun. She gave him a nod of approval.
“I’m taking Jamie outside.” The clock was ticking down to when Jackson and the others were supposed to storm the house. She wanted to get out of here without gunfire.
Loretta reached out as she and Jamie passed. “All these years, we just wanted to know what Nicky’s baby looked like.”
Paula paused, uncomfortable. What was she supposed to have done, send photos?
Loretta stroked Jamie’s curls. “He looks like my Nicky when he was this age.”
Paula hadn’t expected to feel sorry for Nick’s family. But she understood how Loretta felt. Her own mother would be devastated if denied access to her grandson. Paula had a fleeting image of Karen and Loretta meeting over a play date between Jamie and some of his cousins.
How could she make friends with drug dealers, the same type of scum who’d been responsible for her father’s death? Almost certainly Loretta was accessory to multiple crimes even if police had never been able to gather evidence against her.
What would her father have wanted Paula to do?
No answers came to her. She was weighed down by grief and guilt. Another glance at Loretta made her think. Her father would have forgiven his daughter anything. Just as Loretta undoubtedly forgave Nick his sins. Yes, she’d betrayed her father and slept with the enemy. She could never regret that because Jamie was the result.
“Paula?” Riley recalled her to the situation at hand.
She shook her head. Helluva time to be having a personal crisis. Get on with it, Drummond.
“We have to go but maybe we can work something out where you can see him once in a while,” she lied to Loretta. She might empathize with the woman, but no way in the world would she willingly let Jamie near any Moresco ever again.
“Don’t trust her,” Nick warned. “She betrayed me.”
Grandma thumped her cane. “Loretta, if you let that woman into your life she’ll end up arresting you.”
Nick strained at his cuffs, scowling at Riley. “You have nothing on me. I’m going to sue you for false arrest.”