A Man of Secrets Page 2

  “Did you get Miss Riley’s present ready?” he asked in an anxious tone that reminded her of Anthony’s.

  “It’s in the silver box sitting on the bench in my workroom. Why don’t you go get it and when Wendy comes to pick you up, you can take it home, and we’ll wrap it together tonight.”

  “Can I do the bow?”

  “Of course.”

  He dashed off now to the workroom, and Natalie turned to Blanche. “Thanks for going to pick him up. And for this morning.” Blanche had come over to Natalie’s house and stayed with Kyle until the school bus arrived, while Natalie had raced to the store to meet the first of the deliveries.

  Blanche waved Natalie’s gratitude aside. “No problem. I enjoy being with Kyle. Besides, my shop isn’t as busy as yours this time of year, and I’ve got good help. I can afford to take a few hours off.”

  Natalie secretly envied Blanche her full-time clerk. Natalie wished she could afford more help, but some months it was hard enough to make the rent in the pricey Riverwalk location. Blanche never seemed to have that problem.

  Sometimes Natalie wondered if the man Blanche was involved with helped her out financially. From some of the presents he’d given her, Natalie assumed he was well-to-do, and from the secretive way Blanche acted—never mentioning his name, never introducing him to her friends—Natalie suspected he was married.

  She hoped that wasn’t true. Blanche was a good friend, and Natalie didn’t want to see her get hurt.

  “You saved my life and I owe you, big time. I didn’t get a chance to ask you before, but did everything go all right this morning?” Natalie asked.

  “Well, actually, we did have to play hide-and-seek with his backpack before the bus came. He hid it last night so robbers couldn’t steal it—his words, not mine—then this morning he couldn’t remember where he’d put it.”

  “Where did you finally find it?”

  “Kyle’s the one who found it, and he wouldn’t tell me where because he said it must be a really awesome hiding place if even he couldn’t find it.”

  Natalie just shook her head. If there was anything she would change about her son, it was his penchant for hiding things, then forgetting where he’d put them.

  Just last week, when Anthony had taken Kyle to his law office one afternoon, Kyle had brought back a state-of-the-art, fancy tape recorder that evidently had fascinated him so much, Anthony had impulsively given it to him. The gift was extravagant and meaningless and much too expensive for a six-year-old, but when Natalie had suggested Kyle should give it back, he’d sworn he couldn’t find it. Anywhere.

  Natalie sighed. “If I had five bucks for everything that kid has hidden and lost in his short lifetime, I’d be a rich woman.”

  Blanche laughed, then said in a low voice, “You already were a rich woman. You were married to a Bishop and you gave it all up.”

  Natalie grimaced. “Don’t remind me. Speaking of the devil, he was here today.”

  Blanche’s dark eyebrows rose. “Anthony was here? When?”

  “A little while ago. You just missed him. I know you said you were dying to meet him.”

  “Yes, I am,” Blanche said, smiling a little. “What did he want?”

  Natalie shrugged. “He said he came to shop for a present for a client’s mother.”

  “That’s all he wanted, just to shop?”

  Natalie frowned, removing her glasses to polish the lenses with the hem of her sweater. “He did buy something—a music box. Quite an expensive one. But I don’t think that’s really why he was here. He’s up to something, Blanche. I just know it.”

  “What do you mean?” Blanche rested her forearms on the counter, her dark brown gaze intent.

  “He says he wants to do his fatherly duty by Kyle, but I don’t buy that. Why now, after all these years?”

  Blanche shrugged. “Maybe he feels guilty for his past neglect and wants to make up for it.”

  Natalie glared at her friend. “You’re talking as though he’s human. He’s not.”

  Something flashed in Blanche’s eyes—something that Natalie couldn’t quite discern. “If he’s really that bad, why in the world did you ever marry him?”

  “You don’t know how many times I’ve asked myself that same question.”

  “And?”

  Natalie hesitated. What was she supposed to say? What excuse could she possibly offer? That she’d been nineteen when she met Anthony? That she’d been working part-time in his law office to help pay her way through college? That her parents were out of the country that year, and she’d been on her own for the first time in her life?

  Was she supposed to explain how lonely she’d been? How vulnerable and naive and stupid she’d been? How she’d fallen madly in love with one man and married another? How, by the time she’d turned twenty, she’d been pregnant, miserable, and contemplating divorce?

  It was an old story, and a tawdry one. One that didn’t bear repeating.

  “At least I learned from my mistakes,” she finally said. “I’ll never trust Anthony Bishop again as long as I live.”

  “Well,” Blanche said carefully. “I guess if the animosity is still that strong between you two, there is another possible reason for Anthony’s sudden interest in Kyle.”

  “What?”

  Blanche paused, then shook her dark head and glanced away. “Nothing. It’s a crazy idea.”

  “Nothing concerning Anthony is beyond the realm of possibility,” Natalie insisted. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Blanche bit her lip worriedly. “Well, I just wondered…. I mean…he and his current wife don’t have any children, do they?”

  “No.” A fact that still surprised Natalie. She would have thought Melinda would have tied herself to Anthony in any way she could, but the marriage thus far had remained childless.

  “Supposing they can’t have children? Supposing Anthony means to go after custody of Kyle?”

  Blanche’s words hit Natalie like bits of hot shrapnel. Fear exploded inside her. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  But what if—

  Suddenly, Anthony’s earlier words took on a more sinister meaning.

  “He’s a Bishop.

  Like it or not, Natalie, the boy’s my heir.

  I’d like him to spend the Christmas holidays with me at Fair Winds.

  Supposing you don’t have a choice in the matter?”

  Anthony had threatened to take Kyle away from her once before, until Natalie had desperately agreed to his terms. She’d held up her end of the bargain all these years, and she’d expected Anthony to do the same.

  But maybe that was expecting too much.

  She put her hands to the sides of her face. “What if you’re right, Blanche? What if he does want custody? He’s an attorney. He’d know what to do, who to bribe. The Bishops are so powerful in this city. How would I be able to fight him?” Natalie’s tone had risen with each word, until her voice sounded shrill and panicky, even to her own ears.

  “Shush. You don’t want Kyle to hear you.” Blanche reached across the counter and grabbed Natalie’s hands, giving them a little shake. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s purely speculation. I had no idea it would upset you this much.”

  Natalie pulled her hands free from Blanche’s and wrapped her arms around her middle. “But it’s just like something Anthony would do. He’s never forgiven me for leaving like I did. For not taking his guilt money or keeping his name. He thinks I publicly humiliated him. Even after all this time, if he thought he could get back at me by taking Kyle away from me, he’d do it. I know he’d do it.”

  Anger flickered in Blanche’s eyes “But he must really care about his own son—”

  “Care? Anthony doesn’t know the meaning of the word. None of the Bishops do.”

  Blanche straightened from her position at the counter, but her gaze was still on Natalie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you so worked up. I just thought it might be something you ought to consid
er. You know, forewarned is forearmed.”

  Natalie began to pace—short, agitated steps that took her to the end of the counter and back. “I won’t lose Kyle, Blanche. I can’t.”

  “You’re not going to lose Kyle.”

  “The thought of Anthony raising my son makes my skin crawl.”

  “It’ll never happen,” Blanche assured her.

  “Damn right, it won’t,” Natalie said through clenched teeth. “I’ll see Anthony Bishop in hell first.”

  Blanche looked at her in shock. “I’ve never heard you talk like this.”

  “You’ve never seen me threatened.” Natalie placed her palms flat on the counter. “I mean it, Blanche. There is no way I would ever let Anthony take Kyle away from me. I don’t care what I have to do to stop him.”

  She was not without a defense, Natalie thought. There was a way to stop Anthony, but before she played that card, she knew she had to be ready to deal with the consequences. Lives would be changed, perhaps forever, and she wasn’t at all sure that was a scenario she was ready to face.

  Kyle came out of her workroom carrying the silver box that contained the present for his teacher—his light brown, baby-fine hair so like hers and his green eyes so like his father’s—and Natalie’s throat knotted with emotion. She loved Kyle more than anything, so much so that at times it was a little frightening. If she ever lost him…

  You’re being ridiculous, she told herself sternly. She was not going to lose Kyle. Not to Anthony or to anyone else.

  She and her son were going to have a wonderful Christmas with her parents, who were back in San Antonio now after having lived abroad off and on for the past seven years. And even if the weather was darn near balmy outside, nothing would keep them from getting into the spirit of the season. Christmas had always been Natalie’s favorite holiday, and this year would be no exception.

  But even as she gave herself a mental pep talk, a sense of unease lingered as she watched her son leave the store with Wendy, his baby-sitter, who had come to pick him up.

  What if Blanche was right? What if Anthony was planning to take Kyle away from her?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Anthony Bishop stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in his law office and stared out at the ever-changing skyline of the Alamo city. San Antonio, now the ninth-largest city in the country, was growing by leaps and bounds, and it excited Anthony no end to know that he was as much a part of the city’s future as his father, grandfather and great-grandfather had been of its past.

  Single-handedly, Anthony had guided Bishop, Bishop, and Winslow—once a small, but extremely prestigious law practice—toward the twenty-first century, expanding and diversifying until the firm now boasted more than fifty partners and associates. And he had been able to do so in the amazingly short period of time since his father had died because Anthony wasn’t afraid of taking a few chances. He wasn’t afraid to gamble now and then. What was life without risk?

  Truth be told, he liked living on the edge. He liked flirting with disaster, and he always, always loved to win.

  Anthony thought about his latest coup as his gaze scanned the horizon. Darkness had fallen and he could see the lights twinkling on the Tower of the Americas, built for the 1968 World’s Fair, and farther east, the newer, but no less impressive architectural wonder called the Alamodome.

  Partially obscured by towering office buildings, a ribbon of light festooned the heart of downtown known as the Riverwalk—a shimmering collage of restaurants and specialty shops built along the banks of the San Antonio River.

  Anthony stared at the spot where Natalie’s store was located. Who would have thought that little venture—a Christmas specialty shop open the year around—would have turned out so successfully?

  Certainly not him, Anthony had to admit. That was one gamble that hadn’t paid off. When Natalie had opened Silver Bells five years ago, a year after the divorce, he’d been sure she would fall flat on her face and come crying back to him, begging for a second chance.

  But Natalie Silver never begged for anything. She was too proud. Too stubborn. She hadn’t asked for a cent of his money when they’d split up, and had only grudgingly accepted the child support Anthony had instructed his attorney to offer. She hadn’t taken anything but Kyle when she’d moved out. Hadn’t even kept the Bishop name, damn her. Damn her all to hell.

  But in the next instant he was telling himself, It’s not too late. You can win her back if you want her.

  He’d won her once from his own brother. He could do so again, if he chose to. After all, everyone had a price. Even Natalie.

  “Mr. Bishop?”

  He whirled at the sound of his secretary’s voice. “What is it?”

  “Your wife called earlier while you were out. I told her you were in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed. Was that all right?”

  “Exactly right.” The last person he wanted to talk to tonight was that shrew who passed herself off as his loving wife.

  He walked over and sat down at his desk, running his finger down the neat list of the next day’s appointments.

  “Did you get the McGruder meeting rescheduled?” he asked abruptly.

  “Yes. He’s coming in next week.” The secretary wavered in the doorway.

  Anthony glanced up, scowling. “Well?”

  “Will you be needing anything else tonight?” she asked hesitantly, as if dreading to hear his answer.

  Anthony glanced at his Rolex. It was after eight. He supposed the woman was anxious to get home to her family—did she even have a family?—or perhaps meet a boyfriend for drinks or some Christmas shopping. Later, they would probably go back to her place or to his and…

  Anthony’s thoughts trailed off as he let his eyes linger on the woman’s legs. She really was very attractive. Why hadn’t he noticed her before?

  She cleared her throat, blushing prettily as she became aware of his attention. “If there’s nothing else…”

  Anthony sighed with regret. Another night, perhaps. He had too many things on his mind right now to pursue the subtle art of seduction, and besides, he already had too many entanglements, both personal and professional, from which he needed to extricate himself. Speaking of which—“Is my sister still here?”

  “She’s in her office. Shall I get her for you?”

  “No, no.” Absently he waved the secretary away. If his wife was the last person he wanted to see tonight, his sister was a close second. Anthea was getting just a little too ambitious for her own good. And a little too clever. She’d been asking him a lot of questions about the Russo case, as if she suspected something. As if she knew something.

  In spite of the bond Anthony shared with his twin sister, he knew the time was fast approaching when he would have to do something about her. But like Melinda, his current wife, she would have to be handled carefully. Neither of them would go quietly.

  And, of course, there was the matter of his mistress to contend with; a woman of unparalleled talents and tastes, to be sure, but lately she’d become possessive, clinging. Desperate. And she’d been making threats. Nothing to be concerned about, of course, but still, after their interlude here a little while ago, she’d left in tears, begging him not to send her away. Begging him for more than he was willing to give. Anthony had known then that something would have to be done, and soon.

  A clean break from all of them was exactly what he needed right now. Maybe then…

  He stared at the picture of Kyle on the corner of his desk. It was time for the boy to come home. Preferably with his mother, but if that wasn’t possible—

  The phone on Anthony’s desk rang, and he noticed it was his private line. Only a handful of people had access to that number, his wife not among them. Warily, he picked up the phone and said hello.

  A gruff voice he recognized instantly said, “It’s me. Is the line clear?”

  “It’s clear.” Anthony routinely had his office and phone lines swept for electronic bugs, but since Jack Russo had gotte
n out of prison a few days ago, Anthony had to be twice as careful. He knew the feds were watching him closely, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down even for a second.

  Of course, there were ways around the surveillance, he thought, smiling. Ways of slipping in and out of his office without anyone—even his secretary—being the wiser.

  From the other end came a long hesitation, then Russo said, “I received your package.”

  “And?”

  “And? And?” Russo screamed. “There was nothing inside that box but a goddamned ceramic Santa Claus thing.”

  “What? That’s impossible—”

  “What the hell’s going on here, Bishop? Where the hell are my diamonds?”

  Anthony swallowed, tasting bile. What the hell was going on? “Look, Jack, just calm down. The diamonds have to be in that package. All of them, except for my cut. I put them inside the music box. There’s a catch on the back that opens a secret compartment—”

  “I’ve smashed it to bits and I’m telling you, those diamonds are not here. Now you better come clean with me, Bishop. I didn’t rot in no stinking federal pen for two and a half years to be double-crossed by my own attorney.”

  Anthony felt as if a noose were slowly tightening around his neck. He reached up and loosened his tie. “I’m telling you, I put them in there myself. Someone on your end—”

  “There’s no one here but me and my mother,” Russo growled. “And I sure as hell didn’t give myself the shaft. If you’re implying that my mother—”

  “No, no. I didn’t mean that,” Anthony said quickly, remembering the devotion Russo felt for his elderly mother.

  “Well, then. That just leaves you now, don’t it?”

  Anthony’s mind raced. What the hell had happened? Was it possible? Could Natalie have found the diamonds and removed them? He might expect a double cross like that from Melinda, but Natalie?

  “Those diamonds are the only thing tying me to that murder, Bishop. If I go down, you go down.”