Falling for the Nanny (4 page)

Tatum was frying a couple of eggs in the kitchen, which lay open to the informal dining area and large living room. “Too cold?”

“You got that right.”

“Smells scrummy!” That was Fiona's word for scrumptious and yummy.

“Want some eggs?” the nanny asked.

“Yes, please!” Fiona set her load on the center island and ran to the woman who'd anchored her life for the past two years.

“It's your day off,” Alec reminded Tatum.

“I don't mind.” She gave the little girl a squeeze.

In Boston, the nanny had spent her days with Fiona but had shared an apartment with her two sisters, and Alec had been relieved when she'd agreed to move with them to California. She'd said she'd grown attached to his daughter, and had joked that everyone envied her the chance to live near the beach and escape the frosty New England winters. But, at least for now, the move also meant occupying Alec's third bedroom and being available to Fiona 24/7, despite Alec's efforts to protect her time off. The lack of privacy must be taking its toll.

“Well, you'll have the place to yourself this afternoon,” he said as he set the lunch things on the table. His mother, whose ankle had turned out to be mildly sprained, would be hosting her granddaughter while he accompanied his former schoolmate to a wedding.

He almost wished he'd declined Bailey's invitation, but he wanted to get better acquainted with the bride, an obstetrician whom Bailey assisted. Nora Kendall had an ongoing disagreement with Dr. Tartikoff over how to handle her fertility
patients, contending that, for some, the latest techniques were expensive and unnecessarily invasive. In Owen's view, moving full speed ahead boosted their chances of getting pregnant, and that justified the expense. He liked succeeding with patients, and a high rate of conception would enhance the program's reputation.

As part of Owen's team, Alec would prefer to see the new program get off to a smooth start. The wedding reception should present a great chance to socialize.

“I thought I'd check out the mall. I don't even own a decent swimsuit.” Tatum slid the eggs onto Fiona's plate and set to frying a couple more for herself.

“How's your family?” He knew the nanny spent a lot of time texting her sisters and mother.

“Busy.” She sounded wistful. “May's a beautiful month in Boston. The best time of the year. Except for fall, of course. Do the leaves change colors here?”

“The liquidambar trees do. And in spring, the jacarandas burst into lavender blooms. Haven't you noticed?”

“Not really.” She sounded glum. “It's not much fun driving around by myself.” Although Darlene allowed Tatum generous use of her car, the nanny stuck close to home.

“You'll make new friends.”

“I guess.”

His phone blared, the ring tone making Alec forget all about the nanny's loneliness. It played the Queen of the Night's furious aria from
The Magic Flute.

His ex-wife was calling. Alec's hands tightened instinctively.

She'd endangered their daughter once. He'd been helpless then to protect Fiona, boxed in by the court's preliminary assumption that her mother was the best guardian for such a young child. If he'd known what would happen, he'd have
defied the court. Now, given Sabrina's capricious nature and habit of picking fights, he might have to do battle again.

And he would. Whatever it cost.

At about twelve-thirty, a battered pickup parked off to one side of the restaurant, out of view of the main windows. The man who got out bore little resemblance to the photo, but Patty had a feeling this might be him. Dirty-blond hair hung raggedly around his ears, and a glimpse of his profile showed a lip curling smugly. He swaggered as he crossed the lot in scuffed cowboy boots.

She took a few quick photos and wrote down his license number.

On her smartphone, she checked the database. The car was registered to a Glenn Jergens, not Glenn Jerome. Minor arrest record—breaking and entering, assault, receiving stolen property. No sex crimes. None that had been reported, anyway.

But if he was twenty-five, she was Miss America. And even without a major record, he could still be seriously dangerous. Although Patty knew the client's daughter only from a photograph, she felt a keen urge to shield her from this scumbag.

As more cars pulled in, Patty watched for the powder-blue compact the Finnegans had described. There it was, with Judi, as innocent looking as in her picture, at the wheel.

Two spaces from Patty's, a family with three youngsters piled out of their car. Under cover of the commotion, she slid out and followed Judi inside.

From a booth, Glenn Jergens signaled until he caught Judi's eye. He jutted his chin to gesture her over.

Be smart. Walk out.

The girl hesitated, although from behind Patty couldn't read her expression. Then she crossed to him.

As she approached, Judi lifted her cell phone and took his picture. Hmm. Now what was that about?

He didn't look too happy about it. There was a tense exchange of words and for a moment Patty expected the girl to leave. Instead, she took a seat across from him, talking in a wide-eyed, gushy manner.

Patty wasn't sure she believed the show of naiveté. But why would the girl try to manipulate this guy?

Although she'd have preferred a table with a good view of both Judi and Glenn, the only one fitting that description was directly in front of them. Too obvious. Instead, Patty chose a less conspicuous table from which she could clearly see the man and glimpse Judi's profile. She ordered a cup of coffee, took out a paperback murder mystery and settled down to pretend to read.

 

“A
LL
I'
M ASKING IS TO SEE
my daughter!” Sabrina's voice shrilled into Alec's ear. “You're the one who moved to the other side of the country. It isn't too much to ask that you put her and that nanny on a plane to visit me.”

“Actually, it is.”

Two years ago, the judge in their divorce had given Sabrina primary custody on a preliminary basis. Then a passerby had observed Fiona alone in a car and summoned the police. After learning that her mother had left her there for over an hour while visiting a boyfriend, the judge had awarded sole custody to Alec and allowed his ex only supervised visitation.

He'd had nightmares about what might have happened to his little girl while she sat by herself in a parking garage
beneath an apartment building. Not quite three, she'd have been easy prey if an adult had ordered her to unlock the door. And what if, instead of dozing, she'd decided to go in search of Mommy?

As far as Alec was concerned, Sabrina was lucky to be allowed even supervised visits, and the nanny did not count as supervision. Wonderful as Tatum was, she had no authority to countermand Sabrina.

“You're welcome to come to California and spend a few days,” he said tightly as he carried the phone down the hallway to his bedroom. “My mother and I will rearrange our schedules at your convenience.” Reluctantly.

“That's not fair!” Sabrina's voice, so soothing and musical when she was in a good mood, cracked on a high note. “Eduardo has to return to Argentina for who knows how long. His wife is giving him trouble about the divorce! Naturally, I intend to go with him. I don't have time to run to the West Coast.”

Eduardo Patron was Sabrina's fiancé—despite the fact that he remained married to the mother of his three children—and she was living with him in his New York penthouse. The nature of the man's business was somewhat murky to Alec, but apparently the Patron family owned a large manufacturing company.

He closed the door to the hall and hoped his little girl hadn't heard enough to upset her. “If you want to see Fiona, you'll come here.”

“If you make me fly all the way to California, I'm not leaving without my daughter!”

This kind of hysterical declaration was, unfortunately, typical of his ex. “I have a custody order that says otherwise.”

“I'll take her to Argentina if you force me.”

That stopped him cold. A few minutes ago, he hadn't fully considered the implications of his ex's plan to leave
the country. Had he foolishly agreed to send Fiona east with the nanny as requested, Sabrina might very well have fled with her, and now she'd raised the possibility of snatching his daughter from under his protection. “And you think threats will persuade me to trust you?”

Sabrina's tone changed to a cajoling whine. “Her birthday's next weekend. How can you separate a mother from her baby at a time like this? Remember how excited we were when we found out I was pregnant?”

Alec had been ecstatic, but worried, too, for his beautiful, fragile wife. When they'd first met, as graduate students at the University of Colorado's program in clinical science, he'd been dazzled by Sabrina. Tall and slim with dark hair, she'd shared his passion for biology and restored the sense of fun he'd missed since breaking up with Patty.

In retrospect, he wasn't sure how much of what he'd seen in Sabrina had been real and how much had been a projection of Patty's adventuresome nature. Still, they'd had fun together during their courtship, and for a brief time had settled happily into marriage. Then, gradually, Sabrina's behavior had become more erratic and self-centered.

After she gave birth to Fiona her mood swings intensified, as did her selfish demands for money and attention. Alec had arranged joint therapy sessions and sought the best medical care for what he'd believed were hormonal fluctuations. A psychiatrist had prescribed medication that took the edge off the mood swings but did nothing to stem what he'd finally realized was Sabrina's underlying narcissism.

For two years, Alec had felt as if he were parenting both his baby daughter and his wife, even as he earned his PhD then moved his family to Boston. By then, Sabrina had abandoned her career plans, which would have been fine if she'd taken good care of their daughter. Instead, one day that was etched forever into Alec's memory, he'd returned home unexpectedly
and found her in bed with another man. In the nursery, Fiona was wailing to be fed.

He should have foreseen then how untrustworthy his wife was. He should have fought harder for custody right from the start….

“Alec?” Sabrina cooed, pulling him out of his reflections. “She can come visit me, can't she? I'll bet the nanny would enjoy a side trip to Boston to see her family. And my parents would love to spend some time with their granddaughter.”

Her parents, who were highly educated but emotionally distant, also lived in New York. They'd stayed on civil terms with Alec and he knew for a fact that they rarely saw Sabrina.

“You can come here if you like,” he repeated. “That's the only thing I'll allow.”

“Oh?” With one sharp word, she returned to vixen mode. “You better keep a close eye on our little girl, Alec Denny, because she's likely to disappear when you least expect it.” With that, she clicked off.

His numb fingers fumbled the phone as he put it away. While he didn't exactly believe Sabrina intended to kidnap Fiona and take her to Argentina, he couldn't dismiss the possibility, either.

Now what was he going to do?

 

P
ATTY WISHED SHE HAD
a video of Glenn Jerome/Jergens pretending to be affable as he squirmed in his booth. While Judi chattered on, the man kept nodding and fingering the edge of his plastic-coated menu until it frayed.

From his body language, she gathered he was trying to talk the young woman into leaving with him. She appeared oblivious as she ordered food and accepted refill after refill of coffee.

Patty checked her watch. Nearly two-thirty. She hoped this pair would wrap it up soon.

What if Judi left with the guy? It seemed unlikely she'd be imprudent enough to get into a car with him, but you never could tell. Some people had a stunning lack of the self-preservation instinct. Also, Patty didn't trust her ability to follow them in traffic. In real life, tailing a target was a lot harder than it looked in the movies.

She dialed the Finnegans' number. As prearranged, Judi's parents had stationed themselves nearby and could arrive in a couple of minutes. Patty had already informed them and Mike of Glenn's license number and real name. “If she starts to walk out with him, would you rather I confronted them?”

“Either way, she'll realize we've been spying,” the mother said.

“True. Wait. She's getting up…heading for the ladies' room.” Must be all that coffee.

“What's he doing?”

Patty kept watch with her peripheral vision. “Sneaking a glance around. Taking something out of his pocket.” A small vial. “He just dumped something in her cup!”

“That's it! We're on our way.”

“And I'm calling the police.” She clicked off and dialed 911. As soon as Patty sketched the circumstances, she could hear the dispatcher radioing a black-and-white.

A man didn't drop something into a woman's cup without gravely evil intentions. Patty had to make sure Judi didn't drink it. She also had to handle the situation with care—Glenn might very well be armed, and even if he wasn't, he could grab a knife off the table and take the girl or someone else hostage.

Too bad Patty was going to be late to the wedding. But she had more important matters to deal with.

 

H
ARD AS
A
LEC STRUGGLED
not to make too much of his ex-wife's threat, it preyed on his mind. Not that there weren't
distractions. Running Fiona downstairs to his mother's, he found Darlene furious that one of her housekeeper's nieces, filling in for the ailing woman, had whacked a shelf of souvenir mugs with the vacuum and shattered a couple of mementos from Mom and Dad's travels.

“How many nieces can one woman have?” Darlene fumed after informing him that she'd just fired the girl. “I wish Marla would either come back or quit so I could hire someone else.”

“You could put Marla on notice. Show up regularly or get fired,” Alec pointed out as he opened a chest of toys in his mother's den and helped Fiona pick out a coloring book. The unit was a smaller version of his, stuffed with possibly even more toys.

“I can't do that! She's been with me for years, and she does excellent work when she's here,” Darlene said. “And she needs the job.”

“Well, at some point we'll have to hire a permanent replacement.” But Alec didn't press the point. Although Marla and her substitutes technically worked for him, too, he respected his mother's kind heart too much to insist.

His gaze fell on the sliding door, which she'd left open to the patio. Only a low wall and a couple of hanging plants divided it from the parking lot.
Someone could hop right over.

“Why are you staring out there?” demanded his mother. “Did one of the fuchsias die?”

“I'm concerned about safety.” Catching her frown, he explained in a low voice, “Sabrina's making noises about snatching Fiona.”

“She wouldn't get far!” Darlene exclaimed. “You have custody.”

“I'm not sure how much good that would do in Argentina,”
Alec replied. “She's moving there with her boyfriend. For a while, at least.”

A ferocious glare transformed his birdlike mother into a hawk. “I'd tear her eyes out!”

“Mom!”

“Just let her try.”

Torn between amusement and concern, Alec said, “Maybe we should report this to the police.”

“Report what? That your ex is acting crazy again? I wish that was a crime, but I doubt it,” his mother scoffed.

“Then let's consider hiring some security.”

“We have an alarm system. Let's start using it,” she countered.

“Alarms don't work unless you close the doors,” he pointed out. “And she specifically mentioned Fiona's birthday.” They'd scheduled a party for next Saturday at a kid-oriented pizza parlor, inviting some new friends from the neighborhood and children of Alec's coworkers.

“She wouldn't ruin her own daughter's birthday!” Darlene looked shocked.

“Oh, wouldn't she?”

Fiona returned with a juice bar she'd retrieved from Grandma's freezer. “What about my birthday?”

“We were just discussing our plans.” After giving them each a hug, Alec went out, leaving the subject unfinished. It needed more thought, but not right now.

He had no idea where the time had gone, but he was running late. He called Bailey, who agreed to meet him at the wedding chapel. A good thing, because by the time he dressed and drove the short distance, it was a quarter to four.

Cars crammed the small lot wedged between bluff-topped buildings. Alec circled his large sport utility vehicle in search of a space, and found one half-hidden between the two struc
tures. Unfortunately, the open rear door of an aging sedan blocked his access.

The person he glimpsed inside must be digging around to find a wedding present, judging by the odd scrambling motions. Well, no sense in both of them being late, Alec reflected, and tapped his horn to let the driver know he was waiting.

An arm shot out the door. The attached fist formed the universal signal for “get lost.”

“Give me a break,” Alec muttered irritably, and hit the horn again.