Her Christmas Hero (16 page)

“Maybe he's just a social user.”

“Doesn't matter. Either way we need evidence.” Quinn
tapped his fingers on the desk. “Where does he go with this Jenna woman?”

“Her apartment or his condo. That's it.”

“Strange,” Quinn mumbled, mostly to himself. “You'd think she'd want to go out and party or something.”

“I thought the same thing.”

Quinn tapped his fingers louder as he thought. “Do they take Dillon out?”

“No. He's always with the nanny.”

Quinn touched the files on his desk. “I've been doing a lot of checking on Phil, but Philip has called in a lot of favors. No one's willing to talk or risk being blackballed in this town.”

“Must be nice to have that much power.”

“Yeah.” Quinn stood. “I have a meeting with Judge Norcutt.”

Levi pushed back his hat. “Is that necessary?”

“Yes. I want her to know what's going on.”

“Don't burn all your bridges.”

“I think I already have.” Quinn reached for his coat. “Keep digging for something I can use. My office is closed until after the holidays, so I'll be able to help you. Between us we have to find the evidence we need.”

Levi faced him. “Or you'll lose it all.”

“That's about it.” Quinn walked out, knowing none of it mattered except losing the woman who'd stolen his heart. She might not trust him, but he was risking everything to return Dillon to her.

 

J
UDGE
N
ORCUTT WAS WAITING
for him in her office. “Make this short, Mr. Ross. I don't have a lot of time, since I'm clearing my schedule for the holidays.”

“It's about the Rutherford case.”

“It's the only case you have in my court, so that's a given.”

Quinn looked right at her. “You made the wrong decision in that case. The boy should have stayed with his mother.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes flared behind her glasses. “You're skating very close to the edge, Mr. Ross. You're Rutherford's attorney, and you either retract those words or I'll file a complaint against you for breach of ethics.”

“I'm no longer the Rutherfords' attorney, but that doesn't make a lot of difference to me. I came here to say something and I'm saying it. Phil Rutherford is a drug user and you put Dillon Rutherford in danger every moment he's been living with his father.”

“What? Do you have proof?”

Quinn had to swallow his pride. “No.”

The judge's face relaxed and she picked up a pen on her desk. “So this is an assumption on your part, because you're ticked off at Mr. Rutherford for firing you?”

“This has nothing to do with that.”

She pointed the pen at him. “I think it does, Mr. Ross. Your conduct is out of line and I have no choice but to file a complaint. I can't believe you'd risk your career, your reputation over this.”

Quinn rubbed his jaw, not moved by the criticism. “It's a little strange to me that a judge would award custody to a father because of the mother's job.”

Judge Norcutt rose to her feet, her body stiff with rage. “Get out, Mr. Ross.”

Quinn ignored her outrage. “How long have you been on the bench, Judge? Fifteen? Twenty years? A long while, and time enough to cross paths with the mighty Philip Rutherford Sr.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that complaint thing goes both ways. I'm going to check into your background, and if I find the tiniest connection to Philip Rutherford Sr., I'm coming after you like a pit bull. And if my license is pulled I know a lot of good lawyers, like Mona Tibbs, who will happily take up the cause.” Pivoting, he strolled toward the door.

“Mr. Ross.”

He stopped and turned back.

“I don't respond well to threats,” the judge said.

“Neither do I.”

“Well then, let's agree to disagree,” she suggested in a stiff tone. “And if you find any evidence Phil Rutherford is doing drugs, bring it to me and I'll reverse my decision immediately.”

Quinn inclined his head. The good judge was guilty as hell and covering her ass six ways from Sunday, but Quinn took the forced olive branch. Now he had to uncover the evidence as quickly as possible.

So Dillon could be home with his mother for Christmas.

A week before Christmas Quinn feared he was running out of time. Levi was the best detective in the state and he still couldn't turn up anything on Phil. If the man was doing drugs, he was very good at covering his tracks.

Every day Quinn waited for disciplinary action to be taken against him, but so far he hadn't heard from the Texas Bar Association. Philip hadn't changed his mind, Quinn was sure of that. Judicial action took time, and it gave him the time he needed to end the custody battle over Dillon once and for all.

Lenny Skokel had been hired by the Rutherfords. A courier had picked up the files, but Quinn saved copies. Lenny was a trial lawyer without ethics, morals or character, who, for a big fee, would slice and dice Britt's life to shreds. After Lenny was finished, a judge wouldn't grant her custody of a puppy. Quinn couldn't let that happen. Time was now his enemy.

Grabbing his cell, he punched in Levi's number to find out if he was making any progress. Without warning, his door opened and Britt's ex walked in.

Quinn slowly placed his phone on the desk. “I don't believe you have an appointment, Phil,” he said in his best don't-mess-with-me tone.

The man thumbed toward the front door. “The sign says you're closed until January 3.”

“Yes, and that means I'm not seeing anyone.”

Phil reared back on his heels, a smug expression on his face. “Instead of the third you should put forever. Dad's not going to let you practice law much longer.”

“Philip is powerful but he doesn't run the Texas Bar.”

“Don't be too sure about that.”

Quinn clenched his jaw. “Is there a purpose for this visit?”

“Yeah. My new attorney says I have to inform Roslyn that I'm taking Dillon away for the holidays, and I thought you'd be the best person to deliver that information.” A thread of accusation ran through each word.

Quinn ignored the finger-pointing tactics. “Has the judge signed off on this?”

“Of course. I wouldn't do anything illegal.”

Yeah, right.
How did Phil get that by Judge Norcutt? Quinn didn't have to think long about the answer. Philip Sr. Damn! “Why don't
you
tell Ms. Davis?”

“Her lawyer filed a restraining order against me, and as I said, I'm not doing anything illegal.”

Thank God Mona was a step ahead of the bastard. Quinn was seething at this turn of events and he had to get all the information he could. “What about Ms. Davis's visitation days?”

“She can have a few days with the boy when I return.”

“When is that?”

“Whenever I please.” A sly grin spread across Phil's face.

Quinn stood, his body coiled in anger, and he had to restrain himself from physically attacking Phil. “How many people did your dad pay off for that?”

“Go to hell.” Phil's face suddenly darkened.

Quinn tried to reach a softer side of the man, if he had one. “Think about your son for a change. He'll miss his mother. You can't be that coldhearted.”

“See that Roslyn gets the message.” Phil paused for a second. “And tell her if she wants to spend Christmas with her son, she knows how to make that happen.”

“You can't be serious.”

The sly grin was back in place before Phil turned and walked to the door.

“Phil.”

He glanced back.

“Does your father know your plans concerning Ms. Davis?”

“He doesn't need to know everything.”

Sorry bastard.
“This isn't over.”

“Oh, yeah, it's over, and you lose big time, old friend.” Phil sauntered out with a chilling laugh.

Quinn plopped into his chair and ran his hands over his face. How was he going to tell Britt she wasn't going to see her son for Christmas? Or…

He slammed his fist onto the desk, the blunt sound echoing within him. How had he let this happen? He'd thought he had things under control, but now everything was spiraling into a vortex of pain. How did he stop it? It was going to take a miracle.

After Quinn calmed down, he called Mona to make sure she was aware of what was going on, and then he had to call Britt. He thought of going to her apartment, but there were too many good and happy memories there. And he wasn't sure he was welcome.

 

T
HE UNIVERSITY WAS CLOSED
for the holidays, so Britt worked as much as she could at the restaurant and planned
her time around her visits with Dillon. From the university to the restaurant to the stores and streets, everything was decorated and lit up with the spirit of Christmas. People with shopping bags hurried everywhere. Christmas was almost here. Dillon's eyes grew big at the decorations and lights, but he wasn't crazy about Santa Claus. It was exciting showing him everything and watching his reaction.

She had come to grips with the fact that she would have to wait until the day after Christmas to celebrate the holiday with her son. It was just a day, and she would enjoy it no matter when it was. She wrapped one more present and placed it under the tree. Dillon was going to love the soft stuffed bear she'd found.

She was putting the wrapping paper away when her phone rang. She saw the caller ID and quickly picked up, her heart racing.

“Could you please come to my office?” Quinn asked, and his voice filled her with so much love, so much regret. It hit her how lonely she'd been without him.

“Yes,” she replied, without even thinking about it. They had to talk. He gave her the address and she quickly changed into black slacks, a white turtleneck and heels. Her hand trembled as she applied lipstick. Oh, God, she had missed him so much, and she couldn't contain her excitement.

But she tried, for her own sanity.

 

F
ORTY MINUTES LATER SHE
found his office. She'd never been here before. It was on the fifth floor of a profession al building on Congress Avenue that catered primarily to lawyers. The decor was very contemporary: glass, stainless steel and strategically placed potted plants. There was a notice on Quinn's office that said it was closed, but she pushed open the heavy oak door and went in. Inside, warm
wood greeted her, from the floor to the desks, and the walls were a muted gold with eye-catching Texas landscapes taking pride of place. It was a soothing and relaxing atmosphere.

She heard Quinn talking on the phone, and followed his voice. The door was ajar so she walked in. He was sitting at his desk, his white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. The shirt was opened at the neck and she glimpsed swirls of blond hairs—hair she'd run her fingers through…. Her stomach tightened with need and her eyes went to his face. His hair was longer, curling into his collar, as if he hadn't had time to get it cut. The angular lines of his face were tight with worry.

Still talking, he waved her to a chair. She had no idea what he was saying. She was too busy soaking up his presence. Easing into a leather chair, she slipped off her wool coat and placed her purse on the floor. She waited with her breath wedged in her throat like a cotton ball.

“Sorry,” Quinn said as he laid his cell down, his eyes on her. At his warm gaze, a ripple of awareness flowed through her. “How are you?”

She swallowed a portion of the cotton. “Fine. Wha-what's this about?”

“I had a visit from Phil.”

“And?” She braced herself.

He leaned back. “First, I have to tell you I'm no longer Phil's attorney.”

Her pulse leaped. She hadn't expected this. “What happened?”

He seemed to be measuring his words like he always did. “They wanted me to file for permanent custody of Dillon and I refused.”

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. “Can they do that?” she asked tentatively. “They don't have any
grounds to do something like that.” Her eyes flew to his. “Do they?”

He pushed a folder on the desk toward her.

She jumped up and flipped through it, her temper rising at the contents. “What is this?”

“Fabricated evidence that you have a temper and sleep around.”

She stumbled back into the chair, feeling a paralyzing fear grip her. But she fought it. She wasn't going to break over this. She'd fight with her last breath.

“Phil brought you this so-called evidence?”

“No. I've had it from the start.”

That took what little air she had left in her lungs.

“I had a feeling Phil and his dad would try something like this. That's why I asked for you to trust me.”

And she hadn't. Her pride took a big hit and words eluded her.

“I was chosen for this case because they knew you and I were rescued together from the flooding. They also have photos of us kissing at your door. Phil wants revenge and he's stopping at nothing.”

It took a moment for her to process everything Quinn was saying. “They used your connection to the Rutherfords to get to me.”

“Exactly.”

“And…and our relationship has…”

“Given them more grounds to take your child and have me disbarred.”

She tried to speak and couldn't. Finally, she managed to murmur, “I'm sorry.”

“Doesn't matter.” He brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “We have to think about Dillon now.”

“What have they planned?”

“They hired Lenny Skokel, a high-powered trial lawyer, to file for permanent custody of Dillon.”

“No, no, no!” She didn't even realize she was screaming until she heard her voice echoing through the room.

He came around the desk and squatted in front of her. “You remember how strong you were in the creek?”

She nodded.

“You need to find that strength now.”

“C-can they take him?” Her voice cracked.

He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “I'm asking you again to trust me. Can you do that?”

She nodded, knowing she trusted him more than anyone on earth.

“Good.” He squeezed her hand. “There's more.”

“What?”

“Phil is taking Dillon away for the holidays.”

“He can't do that. It's not in the ruling.”

“The judge signed off on it.”

“What?” Britt was being hit so many times she felt as if she was in the creek again, fighting for her life. And her hero was right in front of her. Why hadn't she trusted him all along? Fear. Plain old fear. Just like she was feeling now.

She gathered herself quickly, and only one thing made sense. “If he takes Dillon, I'll never see him again.” She held out her left hand. “Please have Levi remove this.”

Quinn seemed taken aback. “What for?”

“I don't have many options. I'll have to take Dillon and run.”

His eyes widened. “What about trusting me?”

She closed her own eyes as a pain shot through her. “I can't lose my baby.”

He reached out, undid the clasp and removed the brace let.

“How did you do that?” she gasped. “I thought it needed to be cut or something.”

He shook his head. “No. It's just a bracelet.”

“What?”

“A trick I played on the judge and the Rutherfords so you could have time alone with Dillon.”

“But—but Levi had a map and…”

“GPS gadget to make it look real. You were free to run at any time, but you didn't. Now you can.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Once you do that, you'll seal your fate. If they catch you, you'll never see your son again and you'll go to jail. That would devastate Carin and Ona. But it's your choice.”

Her emotions were waffling and precariously close to snapping. But through the turmoil in her mind she heard the hurt in his voice, and that got to her. He'd risked his life to save hers in the creek, and now she had to repay the favor. She had to risk her very life to believe in him. To trust him.

“This isn't easy,” she whispered. “I'm so afraid….”

“I know you are. I am, too.” He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Phil wanted me to tell you something else that might make this easier for you.”

“What?” The cotton swelled in her throat.

“He said to tell Roslyn if she wants to spend Christmas with her son, she knows how to make that happen. Going back to Phil would solve your problem.”

Her eyes shot to his. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged.

She stood on shaky legs, her strength returning full force. “I would never ever go back to that bastard.”

“Then is it so hard to trust me?”

Without having to think about it she whispered, “No.” They'd been on opposite sides for so long, but fear couldn't block what she felt for him. Fear couldn't block that she need ed him. Fear couldn't block that once again he'd risked everything for her. “You might have a problem keeping me sane, though.” She tilted her head. “You see, I have some of Ona's genes.”

To keep from touching her, Quinn walked back around the desk. It would be so easy to take her into his arms and forget the giant elephant in the room—the Rutherfords. Quinn's and Britt's future, if they had one, had to wait. He had to focus all his attention on Phil.

He pulled a legal pad out of a drawer. “The only way to stop all this is to prove Phil is a user.”

“What can I do?”

That's what he wanted—her full cooperation.

He sat down. “In the six months you were married to him, did you see any signs?”

“No.” She resumed her seat. “That's why it was such a shock. But he did have a lot of mood swings that sometimes frightened me.”

Quinn twisted the pen between his fingers. “Could he have just been experimenting that day because he was upset with you?”

“I don't think so. The woman said something like ‘Get rid of your wife or I'm not coming back again.' It sounded as if she'd been in my bed before.”

“Did you get a name?”