Sea Swept (7 page)

“I don’t like social workers.”

“You’re joking.” She allowed herself to flutter her lashes at him. “I never would have guessed.”

His lips twitched before he lifted the bottle to them. “Nothing personal.”

“Of course not. I don’t like rude, arrogant men. That’s nothing personal either. Now, are you ready to discuss Seth’s welfare, or should I simply come back with the proper paperwork and the cops?”

She would, Cam decided after another study. She might have been given a face suitable for painting, but she wasn’t a pushover. “You try that, and the kid’s going to bolt. You’d pick him up sooner or later, and he’d end up in juvie—then he’d end up in a cell. Your system isn’t going to help him, Miz Spinelli.”

“But you can?”

“Maybe.” He frowned into his beer. “My father would have.” When he looked up again, there were emotions storming in his eyes that pulled at her. “Do you believe in the sanctity of a deathbed promise?”

“Yes,” she said before she could stop herself.

“The day my father died I promised him—we promised him—that we’d keep Seth with us. Nothing and no one is going to make me break my word. Not you, not your system, not a dozen cops.”

The situation here wasn’t what she’d expected to find. So she would reevaluate. “I’d like to sit down,” Anna said after a moment.

“Go ahead.”

She pulled out a chair at the table. There were dishes in
the sink, she noted, and the faint smell of whatever had been burnt for dinner the night before. But to her that only meant someone was trying to feed a young boy. “Do you intend to apply for legal guardianship?”

“We—”

“You, Mr. Quinn,” she interrupted. “I’m asking you if that is your intention.” She waited, watching the doubts and resistance sweep over his face.

“Then I guess it is. Yeah.” God help them all, he thought. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Do you intend to live in this house, with Seth, on a permanent basis?”

“Permanent?” It was perhaps the only truly frightening word in his life. “Now I have to sit down.” He did so, then pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger to relieve some of the pressure. “Christ. How about we use ‘for the foreseeable future’ instead of ‘permanent’?”

She folded her hands on the edge of the table. She didn’t doubt his sincerity, would have applauded him for his intentions. But . . . “You have no idea what you’re thinking of taking on.”

“You’re wrong. I do, and it scares the hell out of me.”

She nodded, considering the answer a point in his favor. “What makes you think you would be a better guardian for a ten-year-old boy, a boy I believe you’ve known for less than two weeks, than a screened and approved foster home?”

“Because I understand him. I’ve been him—or part of him. And because this is where he belongs.”

“Let me lay out some of the bigger obstacles to what you’re planning. You’re a single man with no permanent address and without a steady income.”

“I’ve got a house right here. I’ve got money.”

“Whose name is the house in, Mr. Quinn?” She only nodded when his brows knit. “I imagine you have no idea.”

“Phillip will.”

“Good for Phillip. And I’m sure you have some money, Mr. Quinn, but I’m speaking of steady employment. Going around the world racing various forms of transportation isn’t stable employment.”

“It pays just fine.”

“Have you considered the risk to life and limb of your chosen lifestyle when you propose to take on a responsibility like this? Believe me, the court will. What if something happens to you when you’re trying to break land and speed records?”

“I know what I’m doing. Besides, there are three of us.”

“Only one of you lives in this house where Seth will live.”

“So?”

“And the one who does isn’t a respected college professor with the experience of raising three sons.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.”

“No, Mr. Quinn,” she said patiently, “but it is a major obstacle to legal guardianship.”

“What if we all did?”

“Excuse me?”

“What if we all lived here? What if my brothers moved in?” What a damn mess, Cam thought, but he kept going. “What if I got a . . .” Now he had to take a deep swallow of beer, knowing the word would stick in his throat. “A job,” he managed.

She stared at him. “You’d be willing to change your life so dramatically?”

“Ray and Stella Quinn changed my life.”

Her face softened, making Cam blink in surprise as her generous mouth curved in a smile, as her eyes seemed to go darker and deeper. When her hand reached out, closed lightly over his, he stared down at it, surprised by a quick jolt of what was surely pure lust.

“When I was driving here, I was wishing I could have met them. I thought they must have been remarkable people. Now I’m sure of it.” Then she drew back. “I’ll need
to speak with Seth, and with your brothers. What time does Seth get home from school?”

“What time?” Cam glanced at the kitchen clock without a clue. “It’s sort of . . . flexible.”

“You’ll want to do better than that if this gets as far as a formal home study. I’ll go by the school and see him. Your brother Ethan.” She rose. “Would I find him at home?”

“Not at this time of day. He’ll be bringing in his catch before five.”

She glanced at her watch, gauged her time. “All right, and I’ll contact your other brother in Baltimore.” From her briefcase she took a neat leather notebook. “Now, can you give me names and addresses of some neighbors. People who know you and Seth and who would stand for your character. The good side of your character, that is.”

“I could probably come up with a few.”

“That’s a start. I’ll do some research here, Mr. Quinn. If it’s in Seth’s best interest to remain in your home, under your care, I’ll do everything I can to help you.” She angled her head. “If I reach the opinion that it’s in his best interest to be taken out of your home, and out of your care, then I’ll fight you tooth and nail to make that happen.”

Cam rose as well. “Then I guess we understand each other.”

“Not by a long shot. But you’ve got to start somewhere.”

T
HE MINUTE SHE was out of the house, Cam was on the phone. By the time he’d been passed through a secretary and an assistant and reached Phillip, his temper had spilled over.

“There was a goddamn social worker here.”

“I told you to expect that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. You don’t listen. I’ve got a friend of mine—a lawyer—working on the guardianship. Seth’s mother took a hike; as far as we can tell, she’s not in Baltimore.”

“I don’t give a damn where the mother is. The social worker was making noises about taking Seth.”

“The lawyer’s putting through a temporary guardianship. It takes time, Cam.”

“We may not have time.” He shut his eyes, tried to think past the anger. “Or maybe I bought us some. Who owns the house now?”

“We do. Dad left it—well, everything—to the three of us.”

“Fine, good. Because you’re about to change locations. You’re going to need to pack up those designer suits of yours, pal, and get your butt down here. We’re going to be living together again.”

“Like hell.”

“And I’ve got to get a goddamn job. I’m going to expect you by seven tonight. Bring dinner. I’m sick to death of cooking.”

It gave him some satisfaction to hang up on Phillip’s vigorous cursing.

A
NNA FOUND SETH sullen and smart-mouthed and snotty. And liked him immediately. The principal had given her permission to take him out of class and use a corner of the empty cafeteria as a makeshift office.

“It would be easier if you’d tell me what you think and feel, and what you want.”

“Why should you give a damn?”

“They pay me to.”

Seth shrugged and continued to draw patterns on the table with his finger. “I think you should mind your own business, I feel bored, and I want you to go away.”

“Well, that’s enough about me,” Anna said and had the pleasure of seeing Seth struggle to suppress a smile. “Let’s talk about you. Are you happy living with Mr. Quinn?”

“It’s a cool house.”

“Yes, I liked it. What about Mr. Quinn?”

“He thinks he knows everything. Thinks he’s a BFD because he’s been all over the world. He sure as hell can’t cook, let me tell you.”

She left her pen on the table and folded her hands over her notebook. He was much too thin, she thought. “Do you go hungry?”

“He ends up going to get pizza or burgers. Pitiful. I mean what’s it take to work a microwave?”

“Maybe you should do the cooking.”

“Like he’d ask me. The other night he blows up the potatoes. Forgets to poke holes in them, you know, and bam!” Seth forgot to sneer, laughing out loud instead. “What a mess! He swore a streak then, man, oh, man.”

“So the kitchen isn’t his area of expertise.” But, Anna decided, he was trying.

“You’re telling me. He’s better off when he’s going around hammering things or fiddling with that cool-ass car. Did you see that ’Vette? Cam said it was his mom’s and she had it for like ever. Drives like a rocket, too. Ray kept it in the garage. Guess he didn’t want to get it out.”

“Do you miss him? Ray?”

The shoulder shrugged again, and Seth’s gaze dropped. “He was cool. But he was old and when you get old you die. That’s the way it is.”

“What about Ethan and Phillip?”

“They’re okay. I like going out on the boats. If I didn’t have school, I could work for Ethan. He said I pulled my weight.”

“Do you want to stay with them, Seth?”

“I got no place to go, do I?”

“There’s always a choice, and I’m here to help you find the one that works best for you. If you know where your mother is—”

“I don’t know.” His voice rose, his head snapped up. His eyes darkened to nearly navy against a pale face. “And I don’t want to know. You try to send me back there, you’ll never find me.”

“Did she hurt you?” Anna waited a beat, then nodded when he only stared at her. “All right, we’ll leave that alone for now. There are couples and families who are willing and able to take children into their home, to care for them, to give them a good life.”

“They don’t want me, do they?” The tears wanted to come. He’d be damned if he’d let them. Instead his eyes went hot and burning dry. “He said I could stay, but it was a lie. Just another fucking lie.”

“No.” She grabbed Seth’s hand before he could leap up. “No, they do want you. As a matter of fact, Mr. Quinn—Cameron—was very angry with me for suggesting you should go into another home. I’m only trying to find out what you want. And I think you just told me. If living with the Quinns is what you want, and what’s best for you, I want to help you to get that.”

“Ray said I could stay. He said I’d never have to go back. He promised.”

“If I can, I’ll try to help him keep that promise.”

S
INCE THERE SEEMED to be nothing cold to drink in the house but beer, carbonated soft drinks, and some suspicious-looking milk, Ethan put the kettle on to boil. He’d brew up some tea, ice it, and enjoy a tall glass out on the porch while evening moseyed in.

He was in hour fourteen of his day and ready to relax.

Which wasn’t going to be easy, he decided while he hunted up tea bags and overheard Cam and Seth holding some new pissing match in the living room. He figured they must enjoy sniping at each other or they wouldn’t spend so much time at it.

For himself, he wanted a quiet hour, a decent meal, then one of the two cigars he allowed himself per day. The way things sounded, he didn’t think the quiet hour was going to make the agenda.

As he dumped tea bags in the boiling water, he heard feet stomping up the stairs, followed by the bullet-sharp sound of a slamming door.

“The kid’s driving me bat-shit,” Cam complained as he stalked into the kitchen. “You can’t say boo to him without him squaring up for a fight.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Argumentative, smart-mouthed, troublemaker.” Feeling grossly put upon, Cam snagged a beer from the fridge.

“Must be like looking in a mirror.”

“Like hell.”

“Don’t know what I was thinking of. You’re such a peaceable soul.” Moving at his own relaxed pace, Ethan bent down to search out an old glass pitcher. “Let’s see, you were just about fourteen when I came along. First thing you did was pick a fight so you’d have the excuse to bloody my nose.”

For the first time in hours, Cam felt a grin spread. “That was just a welcome-to-the-family tap. Besides, you gave me a hell of a black eye as a thank-you.”

“There was that. Kid’s too smart to try to punch you,” Ethan continued and began to dump generous scoops of sugar into the pitcher. “So he razzes you instead. He sure as hell’s got your attention, doesn’t he?”

It was irritating because it was true. “You got him pegged so neatly, why don’t you take him on?”

“Because I’m on the water every morning at dawn. Kid like that needs supervision.” That, Ethan thought, was his story and he’d stick to it through all the tortures of hell. “Of the three of us, you’re the only one not working.”

“I’m going to have to fix that,” Cam muttered.