Читать книгу His Child Or Hers? - Dawn Stewardson - Страница 10

HANK HAD DRIVEN Robbie to the lab in Englewood first thing, and Natalie had said she’d go as well. That meant, come tomorrow, they’d know for sure whether she was his mother.

However, the chance she wasn’t seemed so tiny that Hank hadn’t waited to consult a lawyer of his own.

By calling in a favor, he’d gotten a last-minute appointment with Doris Wagner—whom he’d known only by reputation until he’d walked into her office half an hour ago.

He eyed her as she sat gazing at her computer screen. A small, middle-aged woman, she looked as timid as a sparrow. However, she had a reputation as a veritable tigress in the courtroom, and was acknowledged to be one of the best lawyers around when it came to custody battles.

Not that he wanted to find himself in the midst of one. But he loved his son more than anything else on earth and there was no way he was letting Natalie Lawson take Robbie out of his life.

For the thousandth time, he recollected her words. “I realize that my walking in here and trying to take him away from you would not be in his best interest, so it isn’t what I’m trying to do.”

He mentally shook his head. How could she have said that in one breath and raised the idea of shared custody in the next?

Shared custody. Did she honestly believe that was even a possibility?

He suspected she didn’t. Because by the time they’d finished talking, he’d realized that the prospect of coming to any mutually acceptable compromise was virtually unimaginable.

Maybe, if there wasn’t such a major geographic obstacle, some sort of sharing would be feasible. But saying she didn’t live nearby was the understatement of the year.

He’d been surprised when she’d told him she was a doctor, and a quantum leap beyond surprised when she’d said she still lived in Guatemala.

She ran a clinic in Villa Rosa, a little town there, she’d explained. And…

He turned his thoughts back to the moment as Doris Wagner swiveled the computer screen away from herself and looked across the desk at him.

“Whoever Dr. Lawson consulted was right,” she said. “There’s virtually no relevant case law. Which means that even if a judge found in your favor an appeals court could easily find in hers. So I suggest you explore her proposal of a joint custody agreement very thoroughly before you reject it.”

“But I just can’t see any way one could work. Not with her in a different country.”

“Did you ask if she’d be willing to move back to the U.S.?”

“I didn’t come right out and ask, but I got the distinct impression it’s not an option. She told me how important the clinic and the people down there are to her. And if that’s where she sees her future, it makes her suggestion…”

The word on the tip of his tongue was ludicrous, but instead of saying it, he merely shrugged.

“She didn’t get any more specific about what she has in mind?” Doris asked. “Nothing more than you’ve already told me? Didn’t say how much time she wants?”

“No.”

“Then maybe things aren’t as bad as you think. She’s a single woman with a demanding career. And she knows as well as you do that nothing like Robbie alternating a week with her, a week with you, is possible. So she could be thinking more along the lines of a month or two a year.”

“I doubt it, although I could live with that. I wouldn’t like it, but…”

He paused, shaking his head. With Doris basically suggesting that he was probably looking at some sort of joint custody, what he’d like or wouldn’t like didn’t really matter.

“I have the sense that she wants him at least half the time,” he continued. “And once he starts school he’ll have to be in one place or the other for that, which throws even half-and-half out the window. School’s ten months a year, not six.”

After pausing again, he added, “I doubt there’s a hope in hell that she’d settle for only summer vacations. Not even summer vacations and Christmas.”

And he wouldn’t voluntarily agree to so little, either, which made it seem obvious that they had an insurmountable stumbling block.

“Guatemala’s a poor country,” Doris said. “She’ll be aware the education system here is far superior, and she undoubtedly wants the best for her child.”

“I’ve thought about that, and I’ll certainly use it as an argument. Even if I convince her, though…maybe she’d agree to only a little time at first. But what if that turned out to just be the proverbial thin edge of the wedge? What if she pushed for more and more until I eventually lost him entirely?”

“It could happen,” Doris said gently. “The problem is, you haven’t really got a choice.

“She’s already warned you that if you don’t work something out with her, she’ll apply for interim custody. And if she was awarded it—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, feeling a sudden pounding in his chest.

When Natalie had raised that possibility, he’d assumed it was highly unlikely. But if Doris thought…

“Do you figure she would be?” he made himself ask.

“I doubt the odds are high, but she certainly might be. Regardless of that, though, consider the final result if you go to court.

“Instead of an agreement the two of you arrive at, a third party will impose the rules. And keep in mind that, under the circumstances, there’s absolutely no doubt a judge would grant her some amount of access to Robbie. The only question is how much.”

“How much would you guess?”

Doris shook her head. “Since there aren’t any real precedents, it would be pretty well up to the particular judge. Worst-case scenario, she’d be named the permanent primary guardian.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid I am. I don’t believe in deluding my clients, Hank. If this ends up in a courtroom, there’ll be the risk of your losing custody. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Until you have the results of the DNA testing…”

“They’re only going to confirm what I already know,” he said, the pounding in his chest even harder now. “I went through that report very carefully last night, and Rodger Spicer did a thorough job. I’d say the chance that Robbie isn’t Natalie’s son is about one in a million.”

“Then let’s consider how this might play out in a courtroom. Even assuming she is his mother, you have several things going for you. You’ve been the single constant in the boy’s life since he was six months old. And despite your divorce and shift work, you’ve managed to provide a stable home environment.

“Judges are reluctant to order custody changes when things are going smoothly. So, assuming your relationship with Robbie is as good as you claim—”

“It is,” he assured her. “And he adores Audrey Chevalier.”

“Then, if this was an ordinary instance of a birth mother trying to reclaim her child, Natalie Lawson wouldn’t have a prayer.”

“But it’s not ordinary at all.”

“Exactly. You only have him because those nuns made a mistake. And as soon as Natalie learned about it she hired a private detective to locate him. Plus she’s a professional woman who can support him and provide a loving home.”

“In a village in Guatemala,” Hank muttered.

Doris nodded again. “That’s something else you have on your side. If she was awarded custody, she’d take him to a foreign country. He’d be totally uprooted, living in Spanish-speaking surroundings, and you’d rarely be able to see him.

“Yet if she is his birth mother, and never even considered giving him up for adoption…Some judges would find that awfully hard to get past.”

Hank stared at the floor, thinking that if this ended up in court it sure wouldn’t be the sort of legal proceeding he was used to.

As a detective, he dealt with facts that added up to either guilty or innocent. But this case wasn’t merely a question of facts.

Considerable weight would be given to extenuating circumstances. And one particular judge’s mind-set would be critical.

The subjectiveness of that made him very, very anxious.

Focusing on Doris again, he said, “So what do I do?”

“Absolutely nothing until you get those lab results. But if they do prove she’s his mother, here’s what I’d suggest.”

IT WAS THE HEIGHT of the afternoon rush hour when Hank’s meeting with Doris Wagner ended, and heading through the parking garage, he decided there wasn’t much point in starting for New Jersey just yet. The commute to his place took a minimum of forty-five minutes when the traffic was light.

Besides, he could do with a little extra time to think—and someone to bounce things around with—before he got home and had to face Audrey’s questions. She was so worried about the possibility of losing Robbie that she’d have a million of them.

He reached his Blazer and climbed in, then took his phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial for Travis Quinn’s cellular.

Travis and he were the best of buddies, as well as partners, and Travis had a knack for seeing situations clearly. Unless the situation involved Celeste, of course.

Last fall, Celeste had been the prime suspect in a homicide they’d investigated. Yet the moment Travis had laid eyes on her something had short-circuited in his brain, making him absolutely refuse to even consider the possibility she could be guilty.

Fortunately, it had turned out she wasn’t. Because they were getting married in June and the C.O. would have a heart attack if one of his detectives married a murderer.

“Quinn,” he answered on the fourth ring.

“It’s Hank. Where are you?”

“At Celeste’s. What’s up?”

“I’ve got a problem.”

“A serious one?”

“Yeah. And I’m only a few blocks away, so I thought if you weren’t in the middle of anything…”

“No, come on over.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there in five.”

The city was practically in gridlock, making his trip to the West 74th brownstone actually take a lot longer—but he finally got there.

Once he’d buzzed Celeste’s apartment and she released the lock, he headed up the stairs to the third floor. He’d barely started down the hall before Travis opened the door.

Celeste’s cat, Snoops, peered warily out from behind his ankles, making Hank think about how badly his son wanted a pet.

It was something he’d been holding off on until Robbie was older. But the way things stood now, he might be living in Guatemala before he was much older.

As Travis gestured him inside, he told himself not to be a pessimist. One way or another, he’d insure that things turned out okay. But telling himself that and feeling confident of it were two different things.

When they reached the living room, Celeste took one look at him and disappeared into the kitchen—to emerge a minute later with a couple of beers. She handed one to him and one to Travis, saying, “Is this problem just a guy thing? I’ve got some work I can go do if—”

“No, I’d like your thoughts, too.”

She smiled and he managed to smile back. He’d grown to like her after he’d realized the idea of her being a killer was ridiculous. And it was easy to understand why Travis had fallen so hard for her. Aside from being a terrific person, she was great-looking—even though she wasn’t Hank’s type.

He’d never gone for blondes. Dark-haired women were the ones who always caught his eye.

Women like Natalie, he thought, an unexpected image of her taking him by surprise.

Women like Natalie, maybe, he silently repeated. But not her, specifically.

Oh, he might initially have figured she was good-looking, but he sure didn’t think so at this stage of the game.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was objective enough to realize she hadn’t suddenly turned from a beautiful woman into a toad. His attraction to her, though, had done an instantaneous fizzle when he’d learned what she wanted.

He focused on Celeste once more, as she perched on the end of the couch next to Travis and automatically reached for his hand.

Seeing that made him feel a little…envious? Was that it?

Probably, he admitted.

If any woman had ever been as crazy about him as Celeste was about Travis, it had been a long, long time ago. And facing the risk of losing his son had made him very aware of how alone he’d be if that happened.

“So?” Travis said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Robbie,” he began. Neither Travis nor Celeste interrupted as he told them how Natalie Lawson had shown up and dropped her little bombshell.

When he was finished, Travis slowly shook his head, saying, “Talk about a shocker. But something doesn’t ring quite true. Why would her baby have ended up in an orphanage? Wasn’t there anyone who could have looked after him? No relatives or—”

“Uh-uh. She mentioned she has virtually no relatives here, let alone in Guatemala.”

“Here?” Celeste said.

“In the U.S., I mean. She’s originally from Detroit. Did her medical degree at the University of Michigan.”

“Then how did she end up in Guatemala?”

“She got involved with…I think she said it’s called American Physicians Abroad—one of those organizations that provides health care in foreign countries.

“At any rate, neither she nor her husband had any relatives down there. He was from Spain, an archaeologist working on a site near the town where her clinic is.

“But getting back to how Robbie ended up in an orphanage, the quake literally devastated the area. Half the population was either killed or injured, so a lot of people were left without anyone to care for them. And with Natalie in the hospital…I guess it made sense, given the situation.”

“Oh, Hank,” Celeste said, “this is really awful. What are you going to do?”

“Well, I’ve just been to see a lawyer. That’s why I’m in the city. Natalie had already gotten legal advice, so I figured I’d better do the same.”

“And?” Travis prompted.

Briefly he filled them in on what Doris had told him. “Her final advice,” he concluded, “was to play things cool, to wait until Natalie comes right out and tells me exactly what she wants—then use that as the starting position to negotiate her down.”

“I don’t believe this,” Celeste said, shaking her head. “You’re being forced to negotiate because a judge might rule in her favor? Even though you’ve had Robbie since he was a baby?”

He shrugged, doubting the casual gesture would fool either of them for a second. They were like family; Robbie even called them Uncle Travis and Aunt Celeste. So they certainly knew how much his son meant to him.

“Oh, man,” Travis muttered. “And we complain about the criminal justice system.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how things stand. So I have to let Natalie get to know Robbie while we try to work out an agreement.”

Travis eyed him for a moment, then said, “You’ll be careful, huh?”

Hank nodded, knowing exactly what his partner meant. He didn’t intend to give Natalie the slightest opportunity to take off with Robbie.

“I’ll be with them every minute they’re together,” he said. “I’d trust Audrey to supervise, but since she’ll be leaving any day now—”

“Where’s she going?” Celeste interrupted.

“Oh, I thought I told you,” Travis said. “Her daughter’s having a baby, so she’s heading out west for a couple of weeks. Idaho, isn’t it?” he added to Hank.

“Right. She’s just waiting until Valerie goes into labor, then she’ll be on a plane.”

“And what about Robbie?” Celeste asked.

“We’ve got that covered. One of her friends is going to fill in. A woman he knows.”

Travis nodded, then turned their conversation back to the problem, saying, “So Natalie is here for how long? I mean, if her clinic is so important to her…”

“I asked about a time frame,” Hank said, “but she hedged on answering. This American Physicians Abroad sent a doctor to fill in for her, though, and I have a feeling she intends to stay here until the situation is completely resolved.”

They were all silent for a minute, then Celeste slowly said, “Do you think the two of you will be able to work something out? Does she seem like a reasonable woman?”

“She seems…” He raked his fingers through his hair, not entirely sure how to answer that.

His life would never again be the way it was before Natalie Lawson came knocking on his door. And part of him hated her for that—the same part that was itching to tell her she could see how happy Robbie was, so she should just go home and leave them alone. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from considering things from her point of view.

If his son had gone missing, he’d have done exactly what she had. Turned the earth upside down if that was what it took to find him. But why did her child have to be his child?

“Hank?” Celeste murmured.

He tried to recall what she’d just asked.

“She doesn’t seem unreasonable,” he said, once he had. “She just wants her son.

“Just,” he repeated, wearily shaking his head. All she wanted was what had been stolen from her, yet if she got him back…

“Take it easy,” Travis said.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not in the greatest shape. I lay awake all last night, thinking, and the more I thought the less I could see how any sort of sharing arrangement would be even remotely feasible.”

He paused and took a long, slow breath, then continued. “In any event, Doris said that if Natalie and I can’t work things out on our own she’ll recommend someone for us to meet with. Some sort of counselor or mediator. But there’d still be no guarantee we could agree on a plan.”

“And in the meantime?” Celeste said. “While Natalie’s getting to know Robbie? Are you going to tell him she’s his mother?”

Hank looked at her, only then realizing he and Natalie hadn’t discussed that. But since she was intent on being part of his life, they’d have to tell him sooner or later. And after they did…

He ran his fingers through his hair once more, the sense that his son was already beginning to slip away from him gnawing at his insides.

“HANK?” AUDREY SAID GENTLY. “You might as well get it over with.”

He glanced across the kitchen table at her and nodded. But then, instead of making the call, he pushed back his chair and headed for the living room—where Robbie was playing with his friend Gary, whose mother routinely left him here while she did her grocery shopping.

When he walked into the room, Robbie shot him a grin and said, “We’re playin’ trucks.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

As if Robbie didn’t have enough trucks for half a dozen kids, Gary had brought his own backpackful. The floor was wall-to-wall with them.

“Wanna play with us, Dad?”

“Thanks, but not right now.”

“You can have my fire engine,” Gary offered. He was almost a year older than Robbie, and had gotten much more into the idea of sharing.

“Hey, that’s really tempting,” Hank told him, “but I just wanted to make sure you guys were having fun.”

He watched them for a minute or two. Well, actually, he watched Robbie. Then he backtracked to the kitchen, where the number of that lab in Englewood was sitting next to the phone.

“It’s past ten,” Audrey said.

“Uh-huh.” And the lab people had told him he could call any time after nine-thirty.

Fleetingly he wondered if Natalie had phoned them yet. Then he told himself she didn’t really need to. She was positive that Robbie was her child.

Glancing at Audrey again, he thought she looked as if she’d aged overnight. Her hair seemed to have more gray mixed with the brown than it had only yesterday, and she was clearly tired. Of course, she probably hadn’t slept any better than he had the past couple of nights.

After procrastinating for a few more seconds, he forced himself to pick up the phone and punch in the number.

“This is Hank Ballantyne,” he told the woman who answered. “My son, Robbie, was tested there yesterday. As was a Dr. Natalie Lawson. I’m calling for the results.”

“Just a minute, sir.”

Audrey eyed him while he waited, her expression anxious.

The woman at the lab finally picked up again. “Mr. Ballantyne?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a positive match.”

She said more, something about his getting written documentation in the mail, but he only half heard the rest of her words because “there’s a positive match” kept repeating in his ear.

“Thank you,” he said when she stopped speaking. Then he clicked the phone off and numbly told Audrey the news.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Hank, I’m so, so, sorry,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Me, too.”

NATALIE HAD BARELY LEFT her motel room since she’d driven back from the lab in Englewood yesterday. She’d been sitting by the phone, waiting for Hank Ballantyne to call. And worrying about what he’d say when he did.

Or should that be if he did?

He’d promised he would, as soon as he’d done some thinking about letting her spend time with Robbie. But maybe he’d changed his mind.

Maybe, instead of phoning, he’d have a lawyer get in touch, because he’d decided that he wouldn’t let her see any more of her son unless a judge forced him to.

Or he might simply vanish with Robbie. Then she’d have to start searching all over again.

Closing her eyes, she reminded herself that Rodger Spicer’s report hadn’t painted Hank as the sort of man who’d run. He was the type who’d stand and fight.

She only hoped he wasn’t going to fight her.

It would be so much better for Robbie if they didn’t end up battling over him. Yet, if that was the route Hank decided to take…

Well, if her alternatives were to start legal proceedings or forget about ever seeing her child again, there’d be only one real choice—no option at all. She was just afraid she might not have enough emotional reserve left to carry her much further.

She’d been running on empty ever since that day in the orphanage. And now that she’d finally found her son, now that she’d seen him…

She told herself to calm down. Whatever happened, she’d cope. The way she’d been doing for what seemed like forever.

As she glanced at the silent phone once more it suddenly rang. Her heart slammed against her ribs, then began to race.

Her throat dry, she answered.

“It’s Hank,” he said.

“Yes. Hi.”

“I called the lab a while ago.”

“Me, too.”

Barely breathing, she waited for him to say something more, each second like an hour.

“We’d better talk again,” he said at last.

“Yes. Fine.”

“Is it okay if I come there?”

She desperately wanted to ask how he’d decided to play things, but all she said was, “Of course.”

“Good. I’ll see you in ten.”