Fatal Charm

Amanda shook her head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t encouraged that.”

Tony nodded, relieved to hear it. His possessive feelings surprised him. He certainly had no personal claims on Amanda. Yet somehow she’d managed to get under his skin in a way no one had for a very long time.

As Bernice left the room to find a broom and dustpan Hope came into the room. Amanda smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s okay, Peanut. I’ll be in your room in just a few minutes. Will you wait for me there?”

Hope nodded wordlessly then ran down the hall. Amanda’s gaze stayed on her as if she was torn between making her home safe for her daughter or rushing to her side.

Tony placed a hand on her shoulder, and as their eyes met, blood thundered in his veins. “Go take care of your daughter. I’ll clean up the glass.”

Tony bent down, gathering the pieces into his palm. He needed to put some distance between himself and Amanda. He was finally starting to hope he’d get his daughter back and his brain was going soft from the strain. The last thing he needed was any complications. He needed to stay focused on Carmen. That was all there was to it.

As Raymond’s car pulled up outside, Amanda returned and met him by the front door. With a wave of the hand, she invited him in.

“I stopped at a friend’s house and borrowed his caller ID device,” Raymond said. “Let me get it set up for you, okay?”

“Sure.” Amanda showed him to the phone in the living room.

Hearing footsteps and the clicking sound of a dog’s nails against the tile floor, Amanda turned around. Hope was standing in the hall wearing her pajamas, hanging on to Winston’s collar. The dog stared at both Tony and Raymond, then took a step forward, positioning himself in front of Hope.

“Mommy, come back. I’m scared,” Hope said, big tears running down her cheeks.

Amanda hurried over to put her arms around her daughter. “Don’t be. There’s nothing for you to be frightened of,” she said softly. “We’re okay, Peanut.”

As Tony looked from Amanda to her daughter, a knot formed in his gut. Amanda and Hope belonged together. The love they shared marked them as a family. They shared something he would have given everything to have—something he’d quite possibly lost forever.

A slow ache continued gnawing at his insides as he heard Amanda comforting Hope. To his surprise, he found himself walking around the dog, despite a throaty warning growl, and crouching down beside them.

“Hope, honey, please don’t cry,” he said gently. “Sometimes bad people act mean, but there are always good people around to make things come out okay.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raymond’s surprised face and Amanda’s expression of disbelief. Even Bernice had stopped looking for glass and was watching him. Well, what the hell. They could think whatever they pleased. Hope had stopped crying.

“You’re a good guy?” she asked, looking up at his face.

“Yep, I sure am. Though sometimes people don’t know that right away.”

“Why?” Hope moved away from Amanda and toward Tony.

“I guess it’s because I’m not always polite and nice,” Tony said softly. “But if they look past that, they find I’m okay to have around.”

Hope smiled at Tony, then gave him a hug.

Tony saw Amanda’s jaw drop. He felt as stunned as she looked. “We’re friends?”

“I like you, Tony.” Hope disentangled herself and looked up at Amanda. “He’s not a stranger anymore. And he looked like he needed a hug. It’s okay, right? You told me that grown-ups need hugs sometimes, too.”

Amanda smiled. “It’s okay, Peanut.”

“Can we play?” Hope looked at Tony.

“In a little bit, all right? Let me fix this window for your mom first.”

Bernice moved next to Tony as Amanda took Hope back to her room, Winston by their side. “You may have convinced Hope and Amanda,” she whispered, “but I’ll be watching you, mister.”

No longer needed, Raymond excused himself and left. Bernice, on the other hand, seemed determined to remain as long as Tony was there. They worked side by side, removing every trace of glass and taping together pieces of cardboard shoe boxes to repair the window.

Tony finished the section he’d been working on, aware of the way Bernice was watching him out of the corner of her eye. When he glanced past her, he noticed Amanda was standing by the phone, lost in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I should report this incident to the police. It’ll make it easier to file a claim with my homeowner’s insurance.”

Her unspoken question came through to him clearly. She didn’t want to jeopardize the situation if he thought this was connected to the kidnappers. But it was more than that, too. She was being careful around him, like someone would be around a ticking bomb. The knowledge knifed at him. It didn’t seem so long ago that people had turned to him for assurance.

“Go ahead and call,” he said. “It can’t hurt anything at this point, though I don’t think the police will be able to do much except file a report.”

Tony continued working with Bernice as Amanda called and answered routine questions over the phone. The bright patchwork of cardboard they had put together effectively covered up the hole.

“Well, it’s colorful, that’s for sure. I wish I had found some sturdier cardboard, but the shoe boxes will do for now,” Bernice said.

Amanda finally hung up the phone. “They said they’d be here in thirty minutes to take a report, but the officer said that they don’t generally have much luck tracing acts of vandalism.”

“That’s the same response I got when my tires were slashed,” Bernice said, shaking her head. “I guess all these cuts in the city budget are beginning to take their toll.”

Amanda saw Bernice glance at her watch and knew what was on her friend’s mind. “Why don’t you go home, Bernice? I know Phil’s going out of town tomorrow, and you’ve got things to do.”

“It’s just one of his overnight business trips. Why don’t you and Hope come over and keep me company?” Bernice asked.

Amanda shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve got things to do here.” She gestured to the front window.

“Then let me take Hope with me. She can sleep over. You know how much Phil and I like having her. And she loves having Winston sleep with her.”

Amanda laughed. “I can’t really say that’s a selling point with me, but okay. It’ll give me a chance to make sure I find all the pieces of glass.”

It only took a few minutes to pack an overnight bag for Hope. The little girl gave Amanda a hug and a kiss, then turned to Tony and gave him a hug, too. “Take care of my mommy, even if she’s crabby. She’s really nice, once you know her.”

Tony laughed. “I’ll do that.”

“You just mind yourself,” Bernice said, her glare icy as it focused on Tony.

Tony nodded, his expression neutral as he watched Hope, Bernice and the big dog walk out to the car. “That woman obviously doesn’t like me,” Tony said to Amanda as soon as they were alone.

“Do you blame her? She’s protective about me.” Her gaze strayed to the tape recorder next to her phone. “You should come with a warning label.”

“The choice to have you involved wasn’t mine.” Those words brought to mind the one question that continued to prey on his mind. Tony didn’t believe in coincidences, he never had. Amanda was tied into all this somehow, and he didn’t have much time to figure out what her connection was. Maybe the bug he’d decided to plant just as soon as he had time alone would reveal what he needed to know.

As Tony helped her search for stray pieces of glass, his eyes scanned the room, always vigilant. “You have a terrific kid,” he said, hoping to make Amanda relax. Maybe then she would lower her guard and reveal more about herself. He needed to get a handle on her that didn’t involve the one weak point he’d seen—her daughter. He and Amanda had one thing in common—their determination to keep children safe. He just didn’t bother to pretty things up with a lot of fancy, useless rules and regulations.

“Hope is a wonderful little girl,” she answered, “but she’s so very vulnerable. She needs protection and love. I intend to see that she gets both.”

She was warning him off, like a lioness protecting her cubs. She’d do whatever was necessary to keep him away from her child. In that one respect, they were more alike than she knew. “Hope is one very lucky little girl.”