Authors: Connie Mason
“What about love? Can you give him love?”
“I’m not incapable of giving love.”
“You could have fooled me. I’m talking about a mother’s love.”
“Tommy will have nurses, nannies, and tutors. He’ll lack for nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting an important client.”
Belle thrust her jaw out stubbornly. “I’m not budging from here until you let me see Tommy.”
“Impossible.” He busied himself with a stack of papers piled before him on his desk. “I have an injunction forbidding any contact between you and my grandson. Break the law and I’ll see you behind bars.”
“Have you no heart? No compassion?”
“Not where you’re concerned.” He leered at her, his expression one of satisfaction. “You’re a whore and I can prove it. Where were you when my men broke into your house and took Tommy?”
Belle blanched and staggered beneath his hurtful accusation.
“You don’t need to answer, Belle, I know you were screwing Casey Walker. He’s a damn good detective, dedicated to his job. I hope the pleasure he gave you was worth the loss of your son. Walker was worth every dime I paid him.”
It was a vicious, calculated blow, and Belle was nearly vanquished by it. Yet McAllister knew exactly what he was about. His henchmen had been briefed on the situation and had followed Walker to Placerville. They spent several days spying on Walker and Belle before actually snatching Tommy. Their orders were to keep a low profile and take the boy without the knowledge of either Walker or Belle. The men had waited for the right moment and were rewarded when, spying through the window, they saw Belle go into Walker’s bedroom.
When they saw Tommy leave the bedroom alone, they assumed that Walker would keep Belle occupied
for several hours, and they were right. There was only one reason a woman went into a man’s bedroom, and McAllister’s spies had reported what they had seen upon their return to San Francisco. Leaving the note had been a stroke of genius, and McAllister congratulated himself for thinking of it. Getting even with Walker felt good.
Beyond speechless, Belle felt the lifeblood drain out of her. Casey Walker! He had cost her everything she loved and field dear. He might as well have taken a gun to her. Without Tommy, she had no life.
McAllister knew he had wounded Belle, but thought it only just considering how she had taken his son and heir from him. If there were tender feelings between Belle and Walker, his lies about the detective more than paid the bastard back for taking his money and betraying him. Belle had no choice now but to believe that Walker had used her to get to Tommy, and that pleased McAllister. He had killed two birds with one stone. He had defeated both Belle and Walker.
“I won’t let you get away with this,” Belle charged when she finally found her voice. “Beware, Mr. McAllister. One way or another, I’ll get my son back.”
With all the dignity she could muster, she turned and limped from the room. The interview had left her shaken and demoralized. She was hopelessly out of her league. She had no weapons to use against a man like McAllister. He held all the cards and she was outmaneuvered. But all wasn’t lost yet. There had to be some way to stop McAllister from separating her and Tommy. With careful thought, she would find it.
* * *
Belle knew she would soon have to find cheaper lodging than the Fremont Hotel, for she had far better places in which to spend her money, but for the time being it sufficed. After her visit with McAllister she had no appetite for food, but since she had to keep up her strength she ordered a light repast from room service. While she waited, she bathed, donned her nightgown and robe, and sat in silent contemplation. She missed Tommy desperately and wondered if he missed her. She dried her tears, aware that wallowing in self pity was doing neither her nor Tommy any good. She had to direct all her energy toward finding a way to get him back.
A knock on the door brought her from her reverie. Thinking it was room service with her food, she thoughtlessly opened the door. When she saw the tall man filling the doorway, she tried to slam the panel in his face. Casey shoved the door wide, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again. How did you know where to find me?”
“I want to talk to you. I went to Naomi’s and Wan Yo told me where to find you. Dammit, Belle, what will it take for you to believe I didn’t lead McAllister to Tommy?”
“Nothing. I’ll never believe you. McAllister knows what you and I were doing when Tommy was abducted. He told me you’d deliberately seduced me. He says it proves I’m a whore, and that the law will never grant me custody of Tommy.”
Casey groaned in genuine dismay. “The bastard. He said he’d get even with me for taking his money and quitting the case. I wrote Allen Pinkerton for a loan. It was waiting for me at the post office.
Tomorrow I’m going to pay McAllister every dime I took from him. Perhaps I can convince him to share Tommy with you. It’s better than nothing.”
Belle turned her back on him. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said, Mr. Walker. Good night.”
Casey was at his wit’s end. Belle was unreachable. She hated him and he couldn’t blame her. Acting on instinct and a need for her to understand, he grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Dammit, Belle, don’t you know I care for you?” Desperate to prove his words, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth in a soul-baring kiss. Everything he felt, all he was and would ever be was centered in that kiss.
Despite the hatred she harbored for Casey, Belle fought the pounding in her blood and the sharp edge of desire spiraling through her. Was it possible to love and hate at the same time?
Casey felt her lips soften beneath his, and something dark and wild, a feeling embellished by memories of their loving and subsequent loss, made him deepen the kiss. But neither the compelling pressure of his mouth or the tantalizing thrust of his tongue could make the terrible hurt he had caused her more bearable. He tasted the salt of her tears and stepped away.
Belle retreated, her eyes gleaming with cold brilliance. “If you care for me, you’ll find a way to get my son back for me.” The pain in her voice overwhelmed him.
“You’ll get Tommy back, Belle, I swear it.” He had no idea how he would make it happen, but somehow he must. He wasn’t the best damn detective in the Pinkerton Agency for nothing.
C
asey found cheap lodging in a not quite respectable, somewhat shabby inn on the waterfront that catered to sailors. Though it was not what he was usually accustomed to, it fit his slim purse. He retired early, intending to get a good night’s sleep, but thoughts of Belle kept interfering. He’d tried without success to convince her that he hadn’t brought McAllister’s men to Placerville and felt so damn helpless. What made it all so confusing and difficult to explain was the very fact that in the beginning he
had
gone to Placerville with every intention of separating Belle from her son.
There were times when Casey hated the type of work he was involved in, and this was one of them. Earlier this evening when he visited Belle’s hotel room, he’d had a difficult time keeping his hands off of her. His fingers itched to touch her, to caress her cheek, to stroke her body as he made love to her. Belle wanted nothing to do with him, however, and that one brief kiss she’d allowed him had shown him a hint of paradise that would never be his. He’d
blown his chance with Belle when he withheld the truth from her.
Finally sleep did come, but it was fraught with dreams. No matter how hard he tried, he could not forget Belle’s horror upon learning he had worked for McAllister. Only one other time in his life had he felt this defeated, and that was when his brother had been found guilty of murder. With any luck Mark would be free, but it would take more than luck to regain Belle’s trust.
Casey awoke early, ate breakfast at a nearby diner, and went directly to McAllister’s residence. Since it was Sunday, Casey expected to find McAllister at home. Casey was determined to see Tommy no matter what, and no gunman was going to turn him away.
McAllister’s bodyguard answered Casey’s knock. “What do you want?” he asked curtly.
“To see your boss.”
“He ain’t receivin’ this morning. Don’t you know it’s Sunday? Save your business for tomorrow.”
“This business won’t wait,” Casey said, shoving past the bodyguard. “I’m not a helpless woman you can intimidate with your brawn.” His right hand hovered dangerously close to his gun. “You can try to make me leave but it will be at your own peril.”
“State yer business and I’ll see if Mr. McAllister will see ya.”
“He’ll see me. Tell him Casey Walker is here to pay his debt.”
The man pinned Casey with a speculative look, then shrugged. “Wait here. Don’t go gettin’ nosy or you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Casey said, leaning against the door and crossing his arms.
The bodyguard disappeared down the hallway, and Casey cast a curious glance up the staircase, wondering if Tommy’s room was up there on the second floor. Then suddenly he no longer had to wonder, for Tommy appeared at the top of the stairs, accompanied by a stern-faced woman wearing a starched uniform over tightly corsetted flesh that gave the appearance of being stuffed into her dress.
Tommy spied him and gave a whoop of joy as he bounded down the stairs. Casey sank down on his haunches and scooped Tommy into his outstretched arms. Huffing and puffing, the nursemaid bounced down the stairs after him.
“Casey! I knew you’d come for me. I told mean old … I mean, grandfather, that you’d come and take me back to Mama.” He glanced hopefully behind Casey. “Where is Mama? Why didn’t she come with you?”
T.J. McAllister walked briskly down the hallway, saw Tommy in Casey’s arms, and sputtered with outrage. “Mrs. Grundig, take the boy to his room!”
“No!” Tommy cried, clinging to Casey with almost frantic desperation. “I want my mama. Casey is going to take me to Mama and you can’t stop him.”
“You’re wrong, my boy. You’re mine to raise now. You’re never going to see your slut of a mother again.”
Casey carefully set Tommy aside, rose to his full, impressive height, and turned his glacial stare on McAllister. He bared his teeth in a feral smile. “If you ever call Belle that again you’re going to be very
sorry.” His expression was hard, implacable, his voice threatening.
McAllister recognized the cold fury emanating from Casey and sidled close to his hired gunman. “Your threats don’t frighten me, Walker. One false move and my man will blow you to kingdom come. You’re trespassing, it’s no crime to protect one’s home and family.”
“I’m here on business, and to see that no harm has come to Tommy. You’re a ruthless bastard, McAllister. What would it have hurt to let Belle see her son when she called here yesterday?”
“Mrs. Grundig, do as I say, take Tommy to his room. Now!”
“No! I won’t go! I want to go with Casey.” Winding his arms around Casey’s legs, Tommy refused to be dislodged. “Do I have to stay here, Casey?”
His little face was so pathetically hopeful, it nearly broke Casey’s heart to have to tell him he couldn’t return to his mother any time soon. Dropping to his knees, he pulled Tommy against his chest and hugged him tightly.
“You have to stay with your grandfather for the time being, Tommy. The law appointed him your guardian. But I’m going to do everything in my power to change that. Be brave and remember that your mother loves you. Go now with your nursemaid. I need to speak with your grandfather.”
The nursemaid finally succeeded in prying Tommy from Casey’s arms. As he was being dragged upstairs, he turned his tear-stained face back to Casey and gave him a watery smile. “I’ll remember, Casey. Tell Mama I love her.”
“I’m not a monster, Walker,” McAllister declared. “I’ve grown fond of the boy. I’ve already changed my will in his favor. When I die everything I own in the world will go to Tommy. Taking the boy from his mother is for his own good.”
“If you had a heart you wouldn’t cut him completely from his mother. You’re a compassionless, vindictive bastard, McAllister.”
McAllister’s face hardened. “State your business, Walker. It’s Sunday, I’m not in the habit of conducting business on the Sabbath.”
“And I’m not in the habit of conducting business in front of paid gunmen.”
“Kellerman said you mentioned something about repaying a debt.”
Casey nodded. “Can we speak in private?”
“Very well. Come into my study. But let me remind you that Kellerman will be right outside the door. One word from me and he’ll come in blasting.”
“How comforting for you,” Casey remarked dryly.
McAllister led the way down the hall, opened a door and motioned Casey inside. “I’m not going to ask you to sit down, because you’re not staying long enough to make yourself comfortable. Now, about that debt …”
Casey removed a thick envelope from his vest and tossed it on McAllister’s desk. McAllister picked it up, pulled out the wad of bills, and started counting. “It’s all there. My debt is paid in full.”
“Where did you get this much money?”
“It’s none of your business. We’re quits, that’s all that matters.”
“So it seems. I’m a busy man, Walker, forgive me for not seeing you out.”
“There’s one more thing.”
McAllister smiled cynically. “I knew there might be, but I’m disinclined to listen. Good-bye, Walker.”
“Let Belle visit her son,” Casey pleaded. He hated like hell to beg. “What can it hurt? You’re killing her, McAllister.”
“Payback time, Walker, she killed my son.”
“Your son drowned.”
“He wouldn’t have if he’d married a woman worthy of him. Belle dragged him down in the gutter with her and forced me to disinherit him. If he hadn’t married the slut, he wouldn’t have been forced to take a dangerous job and he’d still be alive today.”
“Your son had the gumption to stand up for what he wanted. Can’t you bring yourself to relent? You already have custody of Tommy, what will it hurt to let him see his mother?”