Читать книгу Last Seen... - Carla Cassidy - Страница 10

Breanna sat on a chair next to her parents’ bed where Alyssa lay pale as a ghost against the dark blue bedspread. Adam had carried her in here, then Breanna had shooed everyone out of the room and closed the door.

She knew the family would return to their activities. Over the years they had all become accustomed to Alyssa’s occasional “spells” and knew she would be unconscious for a few minutes, then would awaken and be fine.

What Breanna wanted to know was what had brought on this particular spell? Had it been the touch of Adam’s hand? And if that had been it, then what had her cousin “seen”?

She knew there was no point in trying to rouse Alyssa. She’d awaken when she was ready and nothing Breanna did or said would bring her around sooner.

Minutes ticked by, indicated by the tick-tock of the old schoolhouse clock on the wall. It was a sound as familiar as Breanna’s mother’s heartbeat. Many early mornings, the James’s bed had been filled with her parents and the kids, greeting the day with soft talk, giggles and the rhythmic beating of that clock.

Breanna leaned forward as Alyssa released a soft, audible sigh. Her eyes fluttered open and shut…open and shut, then remained open.

“Hi.”

Alyssa sat up and looked around as if to orient herself. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Breanna frowned with concern. Usually when Alyssa came out of one of these spells, she appeared refreshed and alert. This time she appeared fragile and her hand shook as she worried it through a strand of her brown hair.

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I’m fine.” Once again she swept a strand of her hair behind her ear and frowned. “I haven’t done that in quite some time.”

“What brought it on? Anything specific? Was it my neighbor?”

Alyssa’s frown deepened. “No…I don’t think so.” Her blue eyes were troubled as she gazed at Breanna. “I felt something dark…something evil from the moment I stepped into the house today.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I have a horrible feeling of dread and I don’t know what’s causing it.”

“Have you seen anything?” Breanna asked, referring to the various visions Alyssa had suffered with since she was a small child.

“Blackness. Just blackness.” She shivered. “I’ve never had anything like this before.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and drew a deep breath. “Whenever I’ve had a vision in the past, it’s always been like watching a snippet of a movie in my head. But not this time. This time there was just the blackness and a sense of horror like I’ve never experienced before.”

A slight chill worked up Breanna’s spine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Alyssa drew another deep breath, then offered a tentative smile. “I’m fine, just a little bit embarrassed. I can’t imagine what your poor neighbor thinks. You introduce me to him and I faint in his arms.”

Breanna offered her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you’re hypoglycemic and just needed a little sugar boost.”

Alyssa leaned across and grabbed Breanna’s hand. “Don’t look so worried. My feelings and visions don’t always mean anything. Stress sometimes triggers an event and things have been really crazy down at the bed-and-breakfast.”

Alyssa owned and operated a bed-and-breakfast on the square, along with an ice-cream parlor that was a favorite gathering place.

She stood and released Breanna’s hand. “Now, we better get back to the party before we miss all the good food.”

Breanna stood as well and opened the door, then stumbled into the solid chest of Adam. Worried blue eyes gazed at her as he grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. “Is everything all right?” His gaze moved from her to Alyssa, who stood just behind her.

“Everything is fine, Mr. Spencer,” Alyssa assured him and he dropped his hands from Breanna’s shoulders. “I should apologize. I don’t normally faint when introduced to a new person. I’m afraid I haven’t been eating right and…” She allowed her voice to trail off.

“And it’s done and over,” Breanna said firmly. “Why don’t we all rejoin the party. I’m sure they’re probably serving up the food now.” As she moved past Adam in the hallway, she smelled his cologne, a woodsy, masculine scent that stirred something feminine in her.

It irritated her, how this man affected her on some primal level that had nothing to do with intellect and everything to do with sex appeal.

As the three of them walked through the house and out the sliding glass doors to the backyard, she decided she had done her duty and introduced him to everyone. He was now on his own for the remainder of the day.

Sure enough, the food was being served and Breanna left Adam in search of her daughter. She found her sitting on her Aunt Savannah’s lap.

“Hey, sweetie. Why don’t you go get yourself a plate of food and let me visit with Aunt Savannah for a minute.”

“I’m starving,” Maggie exclaimed as she jumped down from Savannah’s lap. “Bye, Aunt Savannah, we’ll talk more after I eat.”

“It’s a deal,” Savannah replied, the darkness in her eyes momentarily lifted as she smiled at Maggie.

“How are you doing, sis?” Breanna asked as Maggie scampered away.

“Good,” Savannah replied, but the sadness in her eyes that had been present for the past year was an indicator to Breanna that the heartache of losing Jimmy still consumed her.

“You look tired. Are you working too many hours?” Breanna asked. The entire family had been after Savannah to take some time off, to get away from the misery of seeing murders up close and personal.

Savannah shrugged. “It’s been a long week.

“Still no break in the Maxwell murder?”

“Nothing. Poor man is found naked and dead in front of the public library. Clay has been pulling out his hair because the crime scene was contaminated by dozens of gawkers and we’ve all been stymied by the fact that Greg Maxwell seemed to be loved by everyone who knew him.”

“Something will break. It always does,” Breanna said.

“Your new neighbor seems very nice,” Savannah said.

Breanna looked over to the patio where Adam was talking to her father. The khaki slacks Adam wore hugged his slender hips and long legs and the short-sleeved dress shirt emphasized the width of his chest and the muscles of his biceps. “I guess. I really don’t know him that well. It was Mother who invited him.”

Savannah smiled. “Big surprise. She’s always inviting strays home.”

Breanna looked back over to Adam. He didn’t seem like a stray. In her brief acquaintance with him, he appeared to be a man who knew exactly who he was and where he was going. There was a quiet confidence about him she found intriguing, despite the fact that she had no intention of developing any kind of a relationship other than that of good neighbors.

“Come and get a plate,” Breanna said and pulled her sister to her feet. Breanna fixed herself a plate and joined her daughter at one of the picnic tables that were scattered across the backyard.

“Aunt Savannah said maybe she’ll take me to a movie next week,” Maggie said.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Breanna replied.

“I like the movies.” Maggie grabbed the little horse on her necklace. “I think Thunder would like them, too.”

“Mind if I join you?” Adam stood next to the picnic table, his plate in hand.

Breanna wanted to tell him to go sit someplace else, but of course she didn’t. “Not at all.” She wondered exactly what it was about him that set her so on edge.

He scooted onto the bench next to her, their shoulders bumping as his scent filled her head.

She knew then why he set her on edge, made her uncomfortable and wary. Something about the way he affected her reminded her of those first few weeks with Kurt. Adam Spencer made her feel that same rush of heat, a lick of lust that she’d never felt before Kurt…or since…until now.

Kurt had been a disastrous mistake and so it was only natural that a man who stirred the same kind of feelings would evoke a defensive wariness in her.

“You have a wonderful family,” he said.

“They are very special,” Breanna replied. “I’m not sure what I would have done without them in the past five years. Being a single parent isn’t easy.”

“I imagine not.” He frowned and focused on his food.

“What about you? Do you eventually want a wife and children?” She assumed he was in his late twenties or early thirties. Didn’t most men of that age start to think about creating families?

“Not me,” he said firmly. “I much prefer to be footloose and fancy-free.”

“Your foot is loose?” Maggie eyed him with a touch of childish horror. “Does it hurt?”

“No, honey, my foot isn’t really loose. That’s just an expression.” Adam smiled at Maggie. “My feet work just fine.”

“Rabbits’ feet are good,” Maggie said after a moment of thought. “And frogs’ feet. They help jump…jump…jump.”

As Adam and Maggie engaged in a conversation about various animals and their feet, Breanna couldn’t help but think it was a shame Adam had no intentions of becoming a father.

He showed a natural ease with Maggie, not talking down to her or at her, but rather with her. Maybe he’s just on his best behavior and being kind and patient to the granddaughter of his host and hostess, she thought. That was the socially correct thing to do.

She was relieved when Savannah and Jacob Kincaid joined them at the table.

It was dusk when Breanna drove them back home. Maggie, overwhelmed by the food, fresh air and play, immediately fell asleep in the back seat.

“Thank you for letting me ride with you today,” Adam said as they pulled out of the James’s driveway.

“No problem,” she replied.

“I noticed an old grill in the shed behind the cottage. If I get it out and clean it up, maybe you and Maggie could join me for hamburgers one evening next week.”

Now was the time to draw boundaries, Breanna thought. For the time that he was renting the cottage they would share a backyard, but she had no intention of being anything more than nodding-acquaintance-type neighbors.

“Thanks, but we usually keep pretty busy between my schedule and Rachel’s.”

“Rachel?” In the glow of twilight his eyes appeared more silver than blue.

“Rachel is my live-in nanny,” Breanna explained. “She has been my helping hand ever since I hired her two years ago.”

“Must have been hard to find somebody to trust to live in your home and caretake for your child,” he observed.

“Rachel was special from the first moment I met her. She came into the police department to file a complaint against an old boyfriend who was stalking her. I took the complaint and could immediately tell she was bright, good-hearted but had made the mistake of hooking up with the wrong kind of man.” Breanna turned into her driveway, shut off the car engine then turned to Adam. “Having made that mistake myself, I instantly empathized with her.”

“What happened with her and her boyfriend?” Adam asked.

“He caught up with her one night and beat the hell out of her, used a knife to cut up her face. He’s now serving time and Rachel and I have become best of friends.”

Adam reached out and placed his hand on her forearm, his gaze so intense it momentarily seemed to stop her heart. “You said you’d made the same mistake…your ex-husband…he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

His hand was warm, filled with energy and far too pleasant against her cool skin. She moved and he drew back his hand as if surprised to have found himself touching her.

“You want to know if my ex-husband beat me?” she asked. “Absolutely not. He knew better than to ever lay a hand on me.” She was vaguely surprised by the bitterness that rose in her voice with each word. “You asked if he ever hurt me? He promised undying love and fidelity. He played at building dreams, then he broke the promises and shattered the dreams. Did he hurt me? Unbearably…irreparably.” She threw open her car door. “And now I’ll just say good night.” She got out of the car and slammed her door, surprised by the depth of emotions the conversation had stirred.

“Breanna,” he said as he got out of the car. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

As quickly as it had swept over her, the anger died. She drew a deep, calming breath. “No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid talking about my ex puts me in a bad mood. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

She opened the back car door, unbuckled her sleeping daughter and pulled her up and into her arms, then closed the door.

“Would you like me to carry her inside for you?”

“No, thanks. I’ve managed on my own for the past five years. I can manage to get her inside under my own steam. Good night, Adam.”

“Good night Breanna,” he replied. He turned and walked across the grass toward the cottage.

It took Breanna a moment at the door as she shifted her daughter’s weight from one hip to the other so she could free up a hand to dig her keys out of her purse.

Once inside she carried Maggie directly to bed. She took off the little girl’s socks and shoes, then drew the sheet up around her and kissed her on the cheek.

She went back downstairs where she found a note from Rachel. The picnic with David had been a success and they had gone to the movies. She would be home later.

Breanna smiled as she read the note. She was glad things had gone well at the picnic. Rachel deserved happiness and love in her life.

She set the note aside and put a kettle of water on the stove for tea. She loved Sunday nights. Sundays and Mondays were her favorite days and nights because she was off duty. She didn’t have to be back at work until Tuesday afternoon.

The phone rang and she picked it up, figuring it was probably her mother wanting to hash over the events of the day.

The recording began immediately, before Breanna even got a chance to say hello. It was the same as the night before, the woman singing “Rock-A-Bye Baby.”

“Who is this?” she demanded when the song had ended but the phone line remained open. “What do you want? I really think you have the wrong number.”

“You bitch.”

The voice, gravelly deep and filled with malevolence shot a sweeping icy chill through her, but before she could make any reply, the line went dead.

The plastic of the phone felt cold in her fingers and she quickly slammed it down into the receiver, trying to shake off the chill that had taken possession of her body.

Two nights. Two phone calls. Who was making them? What did they mean? And what could they possibly have to do with her? She quickly punched *69, but got a recorded message that the number she requested was unavailable.

Like a shriek of alarm, the teakettle whistled. She jumped and stifled a scream, then quickly moved the kettle off the hot burner.

With shaking fingers, she fixed herself a cup of tea, then sat down at the kitchen table, her thoughts racing and chaotic in her mind.

A new wave of horror swept through her as she thought of her cousin Alyssa and the visions she’d seen that afternoon. Was it possible Alyssa had seen danger that concerned Breanna? Was it possible the darkness Alyssa had seen had something to do with these phone calls?

“It was a nice barbecue,” Thomas James said as he helped his wife wash and dry the last of the pots and pans.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Rita smiled at him, the beautiful smile that had captured his heart thirty-nine years before. That smile still had the power to make him feel like the luckiest devil on the face of the earth.

He took the last pot from her and dried it with a dish towel as she rinsed out the sink. “Bree’s new neighbor seems pleasant enough,” he observed.

Rita sat at the table. “Very pleasant…and very single.”

“Now, honey, you know matchmaking isn’t a good idea.” He joined her at the table. “The kids are all grown and they have to find their own way.”

She frowned, the gesture doing nothing to diminish her beauty. “But, Thomas, what worries me is that all of our children seem to have lost their way. Breanna clings to Maggie and to her rage over Kurt’s desertion. Savannah clings to her grief as if it is her best and only friend. And Clay…he clings to his job as if it can fulfill all his needs as a man.”

He reached out and took her hand in his. “And there’s nothing we can do about it but let them find their way on their own.”

“I know.” She sighed and squeezed his hand. He grinned and she raised a dark eyebrow. “What are you smiling about, old man?”

“I was just thinking about what a lucky man I am. Must have been the luck of the Irish that made my car break down in front of your parents’ house thirty-nine years ago.”

“And I was just a young sweet nineteen and you were such a dashing older man.”

Thomas laughed. He was eight years older than his wife. Although the eight years didn’t seem so important now, he’d spent many sleepless nights at the beginning of their relationship worrying about them.

“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” he said softly. “And I still feel the same way.”

“Why, Mr. James, I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.” Her dark eyes gazed intently into his.

“Is it working?”

“Absolutely.” She stood and pulled him to his feet. “Come to bed, old man, and let this old woman show you how much you are loved.”

She might make him crazy at times with her stubbornness—she fought with him like a banshee—but he never lost sight of the fact that he was the luckiest devil on the face of the earth because Rita Birdsong loved him.

As twilight transformed into darkness, Adam remained seated on the sofa in his living room, thinking about the past day and what he’d learned about Breanna’s family.

It was obvious it was a family built on the foundation of love and respect for one another. If Maggie had no other family in her life, he had a feeling the James family would be enough to make her feel secure and loved.

But she did have other family. She had Kurt’s parents, who would merely add another layer of love in Maggie’s life. He frowned and rubbed the center of his forehead as he thought of Breanna’s reaction when the conversation had turned to her ex-husband.

What would her reaction be when he told her he was Kurt’s cousin? And why did the thought of her reaction to that news bother him?

He was here at Kurt’s request, to make certain Breanna and Maggie were doing okay, and they appeared to be doing just fine. All he needed to do was tell Breanna that Kurt’s parents wanted a role in little Maggie’s life, then leave Cherokee Corners and get back to his life in Kansas City.

With a new resolution, he turned on the lamp on the end table and picked up the phone receiver. He punched in a Kansas City number.

“Randolf residence.”

Adam recognized Miriam Walder’s voice. She’d been the housekeeper for his aunt and uncle for as long as he could remember.

“Miriam, it’s Adam.”

“Oh, Mr. Adam. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours, too,” he replied. “Is my aunt or uncle at home?”

“Mr. Edward is at a meeting this evening, but Mrs. Anita is in the sunroom. If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll take her a phone.”

“Thank you, Miriam.” As Adam waited, he wondered if it might not be better to give them the news that they had a grandchild when they were together. His aunt had suffered heart problems in the past and even though this news was good, it would be a shock nonetheless.

“Adam, my dear.” His aunt’s gentle voice filled the line. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Aunt Anita. How are you doing?”

“All right. I’m hoping as time goes on the days and nights will get easier, that the grief will ease somewhat.”

Tell her. The words boomed inside Adam’s head. Tell her about Maggie. But something held him back.

“Are you having a nice getaway?” Anita asked. “You’ve been working so hard over the past five years Adam, and you’ve accomplished so much. I’m glad you decided to give yourself a little vacation. Where exactly are you?”

“I’m in a place called Cherokee Corners,” he replied. “It’s about one hundred fifty miles south of Tulsa.”

“Whatever made you decide to go there?”

“It sounded like an interesting place, and it’s rich in Native American culture.”

“I never knew you were interested in that.”

Adam thought of the lovely Breanna. “Neither did I. But I’m finding it more and more interesting now that I’m here.”

“You’ll keep in touch while you’re out of town?”

“Of course. Give my love to Uncle Edward,” he said. They said their goodbyes and Adam hung up.

He leaned back against the sofa and thought of his aunt. Her grief over the loss of her son was still thick…raw in her voice. But Adam realized exactly why he hadn’t told her about the existence of a granddaughter.

After seeing Breanna’s reaction to her experience with Kurt, he wasn’t at all sure that she would allow Maggie to have anything to do with Kurt’s family. The minute she mentioned Kurt, it was like a noxious poison released into her blood. It was obvious she hated him.

He had no idea what Kurt had told Breanna about his family. He knew that in the past, when it had best served his needs, Kurt had painted his parents as unloving, uncaring people. What stories had Kurt told Breanna? How black had he painted his mother and father?

Adam needed to find out what Breanna knew about his aunt and uncle. He needed to make her see that they would be a loving, caring presence in Maggie’s life.

His desire to stay and get to know her a little better had nothing to do with the fact that her scent made him just a little bit dizzy, that the liquid depths of her dark eyes made him feel a little like he was drowning.

It was crazy. He had to remind himself that she was one of Kurt’s women, and his job here was simply to clean up the mess Kurt had left behind…just as Adam had done so many times in the past.

His interest in Breanna had nothing to do with the fact that she was a beautiful woman, but rather with the fact that he had made a vow to a dying man.

He rubbed a hand across his lower jaw, unsurprised to feel the scrub of whisker stubble despite the fact that he’d shaved that morning. Thoughts of the day and Breanna continued to fill his head.

She’d asked him if he wanted a wife and children and he’d told her definitely not, and that was the truth. Well, a wife wouldn’t be too bad…as long as she didn’t want children.

Adam had seen firsthand the grief, the utter ripping and tearing children could do to their parents’ hearts. He’d grown up hearing his aunt crying in the night, seeing his uncle’s hollow eyes when Kurt had disappointed or hurt them yet again.

There was no way in hell Adam intended to go through that with children of his own. He’d done everything in his power to be the kind of son that would make his aunt and uncle proud, but it hadn’t counted because their own son had been such a mess.

He stood, suddenly too restless to sit. If he intended to stay here a little longer and not tell Breanna exactly who he was, then he probably needed to buy some art supplies to continue the illusion of his subterfuge.

The kitchen was dark as he walked in, but light shone through the window and he knew the it was from Breanna’s kitchen.

He’d noticed the night before that her kitchen window faced his with a scant eight feet or so between them. He certainly didn’t want to peep, but found himself drawn to the window in spite of his good intentions.

Sure enough, her light was on, but there was no sign of her. However, what he saw outside her window fired a burst of adrenaline through him. A man stood on the top of her air-conditioning unit, framed against the house, obviously looking in.

Adam tore across his kitchen, through the living room and out his front door. He rounded the corner of the house, crashing through a bush.

The man whirled around at the noise and fell off the air conditioner. “Hey,” Adam exclaimed as he raced toward him.

Adam never saw what the man used to hit him in the head. He only saw the man’s arm arc out, then felt the tremendous blow that knocked him backward and to the ground.

He was vaguely aware of footsteps running away and an array of stars swimming in his head as he struggled to sit up.

“What in the hell is going on?”

The stars receded and he followed the sound of the voice to see Breanna, gun drawn and pointed at him.

“You’ve got to stop pointing that at me,” he said, surprised that his voice seemed to be coming from some distance away. “One of these times you’re going to shoot me and I’m a good guy.”

The stars spun faster in his head, then blinked out and Adam knew no more.