Inner Harbor (17 page)

Deliberately Gloria turned her face away so Sybill wouldn't see her smile of satisfaction. She'd found the right button to push after all, she decided. “I need to get out of here. I need to get cleaned up.” She made certain her voice broke. “I can't talk about this anymore. I'm so tired.”

“I'll go deal with the paperwork. I'm sure it won't take long.”

As she rose, Gloria grabbed her hand again, pressed it to her cheek. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I said those things to you. I didn't mean them. I'm just upset and confused. I feel so alone.”

“It's all right.” Sybill pulled her hand free and walked to the door on legs that felt as brittle as glass.

Outside, she downed two aspirin and chased them with antacids as she waited for the bail to be processed. Physically, she thought, Gloria had changed. The once astonishingly pretty girl had hardened, toughened like dried leather. But emotionally, Sybill feared, she was exactly the same unhappy, manipulative, and disturbed child that had taken dark joy in disrupting their home.

She would insist that Gloria agree to therapy, she decided. And if drug abuse was part of the problem, she would see to it that Gloria went into rehab. Certainly the woman she'd just spoken with wasn't capable of taking custody of a young boy. She would explore the possibilities of what was best for him until Gloria was back on track.

She would need to see a lawyer, of course. First thing in the morning she would find a lawyer and discuss Gloria's rights and Seth's welfare.

She would have to face the Quinns.

The thought of that had her stomach clutching again. A confrontation was inevitable, unavoidable. Nothing left her feeling more miserable and vulnerable than angry words and hateful emotions.

But she would be prepared. She would take the time to think through what had to be said, anticipate their questions and demands so she would have the proper responses. She would, above all, remain calm and objective.

When she saw Phillip walk into the building, her mind went blank. Every ounce of color drained out of her face. She stood frozen when his gaze whipped to hers, when it narrowed and hardened.

“What are you doing here, Sybill?”

“I . . .” It wasn't panic that spurted through her but embarrassment. Shame. “I had business.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, while his brothers stood back in speculative silence. He saw it in her face—guilt and more than a little fear. “What kind of business would that be?” When she didn't answer, he angled his head. “What's Gloria DeLauter to you, Dr. Griffin?”

She ordered herself to keep her gaze steady, her voice even. “She's my sister.”

His fury was ice cold and deadly. He balled his hands into his pockets to keep from using them in a way that was unforgivable. “That's cozy, isn't it? You bitch,” he said softly, but she flinched as if he had struck her. “You used me to get to Seth.”

She shook her head, but she couldn't voice the denial. It was true, wasn't it? She had used him, had used all of them. “I only wanted to see him. He's my sister's son. I had to know he was being cared for.”

“Then where the hell have you been for the last ten years?”

She opened her mouth, but swallowed the excuses and explanations as Gloria was led out.

“Let's get the hell out of here. You buy me a drink, Syb.” Gloria hitched a cherry-red shoulder bag over her arm, aimed an invitational smile at Phillip. “We'll talk all you want. Hi, there, handsome.” She shifted her weight, put a fist on her hip, and let the smile spread to the other men. “How's it going?”

Under other circumstances the contrasts between the women might have been laughable. Sybill stood pale and quiet, her glossy brown hair brushed smoothly back, her mouth unpainted, her eyes shadowed. She exuded simple elegance in a tailored gray blazer and slacks and a white silk blouse, while Gloria offered sharp bones and overblown curves poured into black jeans and a snug T-shirt that plunged between her breasts.

She'd taken the time to repair her makeup, and her lips were as slickly red as her handbag, her eyes darkly lined. She looked, Phillip decided, like precisely what she was: an aging whore looking for an angle.

She fished a cigarette out of a crumpled pack in her bag, then wiggled it between her fingers. “Got a light, big guy?”

“Gloria, this is Phillip Quinn.” The formal introduction echoed hollowly in her ears. “His brothers, Cameron and Ethan.”

“Well, well, well.” Gloria's smile went sharp and ugly. “Ray Quinn's wicked trio. What the hell do you want?”

“Answers,” Phillip said shortly. “Let's take this outside.”

“I got nothing to say to you. You make one move I don't like, I'll start screaming.” She jabbed with the unlit cigarette. “There's a houseful of cops in here. We'll see how you like spending some time in a cage.”

“Gloria.” Sybill put a restraining hand on her arm. “The
only way to straighten this out is to discuss it rationally.”

“They don't look like they want a rational discussion to me. They want to hurt me.” She shifted tacks skillfully, throwing her arms around Sybill, clinging to her. “I'm afraid of them. Sybill, please help me.”

“I'm trying to. Gloria, no one's going to hurt you. We'll find a place where we can all sit down and talk this through. I'll be right there with you.”

“I'm going to be sick.” She yanked back, wrapped her arms around her stomach, and dashed into the bathroom.

“Quite a performance,” Phillip decided.

“She's upset.” Sybill linked her hands together, twisted her fingers. “She's not in any shape to deal with this tonight.”

He shifted his gaze back to Sybill's, and it was ripe with derision. “Do you want me to believe you bought that? Either you're incredibly gullible, or you think I am.”

“She spent most of the afternoon in jail,” Sybill snapped back. “Anyone would be upset. Can't we discuss all of this tomorrow? It's waited this long, surely it can wait one more day.”

“We're here now,” Cam put in. “We'll deal with it now. Are you going to go in there and bring her out, or am I?”

“Is that how you plan to resolve this? By bullying her. And me?”

“You don't want to get me started on how I plan to resolve this,” Cam began, and shrugged off Ethan's calming hand. “After what she put Seth through, there's nothing we can do to her that she hasn't earned.”

Sybill glanced uncomfortably behind her at the uniformed officer manning the desk. “I don't think any of us want to cause a scene in a police station.”

“Fine.” Phillip took her arm. “Let's just step outside and cause one.”

She held her ground, partly out of fear, partly common
sense. “We'll meet tomorrow, at whatever time is convenient for you. I'll bring her to my hotel.”

“You keep her out of St. Chris.”

Sybill winced when Phillip's fingers tightened on her arm. “All right. Where do you suggest?”

“I'll tell you what I suggest,” Cam began, but Phillip held up a hand.

“Princess Anne. You bring her into Anna's office at Social Services. Nine o'clock. That keeps everything official, doesn't it? Everything aboveboard.”

“Yes.” Relief trickled through her. “I can agree to that. I'll bring her. You have my word.”

“I wouldn't give you two cents for your word, Sybill.” Phillip leaned in slightly. “But if you don't bring her, we'll find her. Meanwhile, if either of you tries to get within a mile of Seth, you'll both be spending time in a cell.” He dropped her arm and stepped back.

“We'll be there at nine,” she said, resisting the urge to rub her aching arm. Then she turned and went into the bathroom to get her sister.

“Why the hell did you agree to that?” Cam demanded as he stalked outside behind Phillip. “We've got her, here and now.”

“We'll get more out of her tomorrow.”

“Bullshit.”

“Phillip's right.” As much as he detested it, Ethan accepted the change of plans. “We keep it in official surroundings. We keep our heads. It's better for Seth.”

“Why? So his bitch of a mother and his lying auntie have more time to put their heads together? Christ, when I think Sybill was alone with Seth for a good hour today, I want to—”

“It's done,” Phillip snapped. “He's fine. We're fine.” With fury bubbling through his blood, he slammed into the
Jeep. “And there are five of us. They won't get their hands on Seth.”

“He didn't recognize her,” Ethan pointed out. “That's funny, isn't it? He didn't know who Sybill was.”

“Neither did I,” Phillip murmured and shoved the Jeep into gear. “But I do now.”

S
YBILL'S PRIORITY WAS
to get Gloria a hot meal, keep her calm, and question her carefully. The little Italian restaurant was only a few blocks from the police station, and after a hurried glance, Sybill decided it would fill the bill.

“My nerves are shot to hell.” Gloria puffed greedily on a cigarette while Sybill maneuvered into a parking spot. “The nerve of those bastards, coming after me like that. You know what they'd have done if I'd been alone, don't you?”

Sybill only sighed and stepped out of the car. “You need to eat.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gloria sniffed at the decor the minute they stepped inside. It was bright and cheerful, with colorful Italian pottery, thick candles, striped tablecloths, and decorative bottles of herbed vinegars. “I'd rather have a steak than Wop food.”

“Please.” Forcing back irritation, she took Gloria's arm and requested a table for two.

“Smoking section,” Gloria added, already pulling out another cigarette as they were led to the noisier bar area. “Gin and tonic, a double.”

Sybill rubbed her temples. “Just mineral water. Thank you.”

“Loosen up,” Gloria suggested when the hostess left them alone. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“I'm driving. I don't want one anyway.” She shifted away
from the smoke Gloria blew toward her face. “We have to talk, seriously.”

“Let me get some lubrication, will you?” Gloria smoked and scanned the men at the bar, toying with which one she'd pick up if she didn't have her deadly dull sister along.

Christ, Sybill was a bore. Always had been, she mused, drumming her fingers on the table and wanting her goddamn drink. But she was useful, and always had been. If you played her right, laid on plenty of tears, she came through.

She needed a hammer with the Quinns, and Sybill was the perfect choice. Upstanding, fucking respectable Dr. Griffin. “Gloria, you haven't even asked about Seth?”

“What about him?”

“I've seen him several times, spoken with him. I've seen where he's living, where he goes to school. I met some of his friends.”

Gloria clicked into the tone of her sister's voice, adjusted her attitude. “How is he?” She worked up a shaky smile. “Did he ask about me?”

“He's fine. Really wonderful, actually. He's grown so much since I saw him.”

Ate like a horse, Gloria remembered, and was always growing out of his clothes and shoes. Like she was made of fucking money or something.

“He didn't know who I was.”

“What do you mean?” Gloria snatched up her drink the minute it was set on the table. “You didn't tell him?”

“No, I didn't.” Sybill glanced up at the waitress. “We need a few more minutes before ordering.”

“So you were poking around incognito.” Gloria let out a long, hoarse laugh. “You surprise me, Syb.”

“I thought it best that I observe the situation before changing the dynamics.”

Gloria snorted. “Now that sounds just like you. Man, you don't change. ‘Observe the situation before changing the
dynamics,” ' she repeated in her imitation of a snooty voice. “Christ. The situation is those sons of bitches have my kid. They threatened me, and God knows what they're doing to him. I want some dough to work on getting him back.”

“I sent you money for the lawyer,” Sybill reminded her.

Gloria clinked ice against her teeth as she drank. And the five thousand had come in handy, she thought now. How the hell could she have known how fast the money she'd bled out of Ray would slip away? She had expenses, didn't she? She'd wanted to have some fun for a change. Should have demanded twice as much from him, she decided.

Well, she'd get it out of those bastards he'd raised.

“You got the money I wired for your lawyer, didn't you, Gloria?”

Gloria took another deep drink. “Yeah, well, lawyers suck you dry, don't they? Hey!” She called out, signaling to the waitress and pointing at her empty glass. “Hit me again, will you?”

“If you drink like that and you don't eat, you're going to be sick again.”