Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(90)

So much for having someone on his side. “Tell me what you really think,” he said.

She patted his arm. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith.”

He liked her theory, but she didn’t have all the information. She didn’t understand the past he was fighting.

“Did that guy really want to know if you had your head up your ass?” she asked.

“Those were his exact words.”

She laughed. “I want to say it must be refreshing to have people talk to you like you’re a regular guy and not a sports celebrity, but I’m thinking right now you’d enjoy a little reverence.”

“It wouldn’t hurt. Want to stick around and be my wingman?”

“Not really. You’ll be fine. Chin up and all that. They’re people, too.”

“Are you paid by the cliché?” he asked drily.

She smiled and walked off.

Alone in blissful quiet for a few seconds, he thought about what she’d said. About him being stupid for not risking his heart for someone like Pia.

As much as he wanted to give Pia all that she wanted, it wasn’t as if there was a switch inside that he could simply turn on and off. He wasn’t willing to take the chance again. Period. There was nothing anyone could say or do to change his mind. If that meant losing Pia permanently, then so be it.

He turned to return to the carnival, only to see Peter heading toward him. A short, beefy man trailed behind.

“Hi!” Peter waved his left arm. “Look. My cast is off. And you’re right—my arm looks really weird. All scaly and skinny. The doctor says I’m doing really good, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Raoul said, then held out his fist to start their elaborate greeting. The one Peter and Pia had come up with.

The downside of small-town living, he realized. There wasn’t going to be anywhere to escape.

“My foster dad wants to meet you,” Peter said in a low voice when they’d finished. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure.”

Raoul walked over and shook hands with the other man. Don Folio eyed him from under thick, dark eyebrows.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Peter,” he said.

“He’s a great kid. Very special.”

There was something about the man Raoul didn’t like.

“We appreciate your taking care of him when we were out of town.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Raoul smiled at Peter, who grinned back.

Don dug a dollar out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. “Raoul and I need to talk, kid. Go play a game or something.”

Peter hesitated, then nodded and hurried toward the arcade. Don faced Raoul.

“I can see you have a soft spot for the boy.”

“Sure. I like spending time with him.”

Don raised his eyebrows. “How much do you like spending time with him?” he asked.

Raoul felt a flicker of alarm over the oily nature of the question, but he wanted to see where Don was going with this. “If I could have more personal time with Peter, that would be ideal,” he said slowly.

Don nodded energetically. “I’m a man of the world and I get these kind of things. But the foster care system, they have some rules.”

Raoul ignored the burst of fury that flared up inside of him. He kept his expression neutral, his body language open.

“The way I see it,” Don continued, “there are options. You want the kid and I don’t care if you have him. Only it’s going to cost you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Raoul saw Mrs. Miller approaching. Casually, he stepped to the right to block her path.

“You’re saying I can have Peter for a price?” he said just loud enough for the other woman to hear.

She froze, her face going white. He risked a single glance. She nodded, as if to say she was going to stay back and keep listening.

“Sure. And I don’t care what you do with him. To each his own.”

“You have a price in mind?”

“Fifty thousand. In cash.” Don held up his hand. “I’m not interested in bargaining on the price. This is a onetime offer. If you don’t want him, I can find someone else who does.”

Raoul pretended to consider the offer. “You have a way of clearing this through social services?”

“Sure. I go to Mrs. Dawson and say Peter would be happier with you. You had him before and he never said what happened. The kid knows how to keep a secret, I guess. Boys aren’t my thing, but I’m an understanding kind of guy.”

Raoul wanted nothing more than to put his fist in the man’s face. It would give him pleasure to grind Don Folio into the dirt.

He didn’t know how this man had gotten ahold of Peter in the first place, but it was going to stop now. Today.

Don handed over a business card. “My cell’s on the back. You have twenty-four hours.”

Raoul nodded, and the other man walked off. When he was gone, Mrs. Miller hurried up to him. “It’s disgusting.”

Raoul closed his hands into fists. “He has to be stopped.”

She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through the contacts. “I’m calling Mrs. Dawson right now.”

The social worker arrived in less than thirty minutes. Less than ten minutes after that, Police Chief Barns was threatening a very nervous-looking Don Folio. Raoul didn’t think they could charge the guy with much—money hadn’t actually changed hands—but he wasn’t likely to ever take in a foster kid again. At least that was something.