Playing the Game (28 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Queen

BOOK: Playing the Game
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“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 judge 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.

Roxanne gasped. Her head floated and her body turned to fire. She felt Barry stiffen.

Al jumped from his sitting position and papers slid from his lap. “Your Honor, this accusation of murder is outrageous to the point of slander,” he said.

Barry sat with his head down and one hand covering his face, completely still and taking deep breaths. Alarm for Barry compounded her anxiety for Lindy and herself.

“I agree, Al. Take it easy,” the judge commanded.

Roxanne felt calmed by the huge woman, who had control of the situation.

“Scotty, this is serious stuff. I hope you have something to back it up because you’re not playing this case to the media in here. I’m making the call. And remember, it’s not Ms. Monet you are requesting the TRO against.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have it all right here. Police files and all.”

At that, Al jumped up again. “Your Honor, may I see those papers?”

“Scotty, did you bring a copy for Al?”

Scotty gave Al his copy and the judge glanced over the papers, then looked at Roxanne. Roxanne felt dizzy. Queasy. She needed to hold it together. Resisting the urge to grab onto Barry’s arm and squeeze tight, she balled her fists and lifted her chin.

“Is it coincidence that brings you to these chambers today, Ms. Monet? Or do you in fact have a relationship with Mr. Dennis?”

Roxanne stared at the woman. She shivered. She opened her mouth. What could she say? She didn’t know the answer. She couldn’t guess at the right answer. She was damned.

“Let me answer that, Your Honor,” Barry spoke, dragging his hand from his face. Roxanne could barely stand to hear it. His voice sounded strained yet firm.

“Go ahead, Mr. Dennis.” The judge shifted her ominous gaze in his direction. They all did.

He did not look intimidated as he leveled his formidable blue eyes directly and unblinkingly at the judge. Roxanne recognized his game face. She had no idea how he would respond to that question. He could say almost anything—and it might be true.

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