Читать книгу His New Nanny - Carla Cassidy - Страница 6

Sawyer shot out of the chair and raced from the room. He knew that scream. Oh, God, but he knew that scream. Melanie! He took the stairs two at a time, vaguely aware of Amanda hurrying behind him.

His heart crashed against his rib cage as the scream came again. The sound of sheer terror ripped through him. The minute he entered the dark bedroom, he saw his daughter silhouetted in front of the window.

As he grabbed Melanie and pulled her tight against his chest, Amanda flipped on the overhead light. The sleep glaze in Melanie’s eyes fell away and she uttered a single small sob as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

When he realized it must have been the darkness of the room and a bad dream that had tumbled her out of bed and not some physical threat, he relaxed a bit.

“Shh, it’s all right,” he soothed as he stroked down her trembling back. “It was just a dream, just a very bad dream.” Although he said the words, he knew it was a very bad memory that had caused his daughter to scream.

While he held and tried to calm her, Amanda took the night-light out of the wall outlet. He was almost relieved that they had left the office. As he’d sat talking to her, all he’d been able to think about was whether her lips tasted as soft and yielding as they looked, or if her sweet-smelling hair felt like silk.

It was a dangerous train of thought. The last thing he wanted or needed was the complication of a woman in his life. His life was complicated enough as it was. No matter how attractive he found Amanda Rockport, he’d do well to remember he had more important things on his plate…like staying out of prison.

Within minutes Melanie had calmed and been tucked back into bed. Sawyer got a new lightbulb out of her dresser drawer and changed the burnt out one in the night-light.

He remained in the doorway until he was certain Melanie was once again asleep, then he stepped into the hallway where Amanda awaited him.

“The bulb in the night-light needs to be changed once a week, no matter what,” he said. In the close confines of the hallway her scent eddied in the air, the bewitching scent of night-blooming jasmine.

“Will she be all right?” she asked, her concern evident in her voice.

“She should be fine for the rest of the night. She has occasional nightmares. That’s why the nightlight is so important.” He swept a hand through his hair as a deep sorrow cut through him.

Would Melanie forever be scarred by that night? He should have made different choices. Guilt and recriminations ripped him up inside. He should have done things differently, then none of this would have happened.

She took a step toward him. “Children are amazingly resilient, Sawyer.” She placed a hand on his forearm, her long slender fingers warm on his arm. “She’ll be fine in time.”

There was a softness, an innocence about her that he wanted to fall into. Somehow in the past couple of years he’d forgotten about kindness and innocence and the inviting softness that some women possessed.

He stepped back from her, and her hand fell to her side. “The problem is I don’t know how much time I have.” He motioned her toward the stairs and away from Melanie’s bedroom. “I don’t know when there’s going to be a knock on the door and Lucas Jamison will be standing there with an arrest warrant.”

They started down the stairs. “Lucas Jamison? Is he a policeman?” she asked.

“He’s a good friend, but he’s also the sheriff.” They reached the bottom of the stairs. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked. He wasn’t ready to call it a night, wasn’t prepared for the nightmares his own sleep would probably bring.

“A cup of coffee would be nice,” she agreed, and followed him into the kitchen. She sat at the table while he put on half a pot to brew.

When the coffee began to gurgle into the glass carafe he turned back to face her. “What are you doing here?”

A tiny frown danced across her forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why would you leave your home to travel to a small bayou in Louisiana to take a nanny job and work for a man you’d never met? I’ve seen your credentials. You could have a job anywhere.”

“I had a job at a local middle school in Kansas City, but I decided I needed a change.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. He had the feeling that there was more to her story than she was telling.

Even though she was Johnny’s younger sister, before hiring her he had done a thorough background check. He knew she had no criminal record, had never been married and, until a couple of months ago, had worked as a counselor at the middle school she’d mentioned.

Her eyes shone as she finally met his gaze. “I’m here to help Melanie, that’s all that’s important to me. And that should be all that’s important to you.”

Secrets. Everyone seemed to have a couple. He poured them each a cup of coffee, then joined her at the table. “Melanie likes you,” he said.

“I like her.” She took a sip of her coffee and studied him above the rim of the cup. She placed her cup back on the table and wrapped her fingers around it. “She seems rather tentative, as if she’s anticipating me yelling at her…or hitting her.”

Her words created a small ball of rage inside him. He tamped it down and took a drink, then replied, “My wife was a woman who didn’t particularly enjoy motherhood. She was often impatient with Melanie.” He took another drink to stop himself from speaking ill of the dead.

“It’s obvious that Melanie adores you.”

“I think that’s one of the reasons I’m not in jail at the moment.”

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Lucas is aware that Melanie saw something the night of Erica’s murder. I think he figures if Melanie saw me kill her mother that night then Melanie would have nothing to do with me now.”

“But, that’s not necessarily true,” she replied. Once again her eyes darkened. “Children often rewrite reality to make it more comfortable, to make it feel safe. Children also have the capacity to create a fantasy and make it real to them.”

“Do me a favor, don’t mention those kinds of things to Lucas. I have enough problems as it is.”

“I can’t imagine any reason I’d have to speak to the sheriff.” She frowned. “But I’d like to ask you about George.”

“What about him?”

Her frown deepened, and her fingers laced and unlaced in her lap. “He mentioned today that if I wanted to go sightseeing he’d be happy to take me the same places he used to take your wife.”

Sawyer sighed, leaned back and raked a hand through his hair. “George is a lot of talk. I know he told Erica about several clubs in town at one time. If he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll talk to him.”

“That won’t be necessary. I don’t want any trouble,” she said hurriedly. “If there’s nothing else? I’m more tired than I realized.”

He stood and shook his head. “I’d like a check-in from you each evening after Melanie is in bed. I want to know everything that’s going on with her, what happens in the hours while I’m at work.”

“Of course,” she said, standing. She carried her cup to the sink and rinsed it, then started for the doorway.

“I assumed you read the reports about my wife’s murder? Then you must know that she was pregnant at the time of her death.” She stopped walking and nodded, her blue eyes shadowing with a touch of sympathy.

“I read the newspaper accounts this morning,” she said.

“What the newspaper accounts couldn’t tell you was that the baby wasn’t mine.” Her eyes flared slightly with surprise, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Amanda.”

He released a deep sigh as she disappeared out of the kitchen. He took his cup to the sink and added it to hers, then left the kitchen and returned to his study.

Once there he poured himself a glass of Scotch, then walked over to the wall that held all the pictures. His gaze focused on the picture of Erica. She’d been insanely beautiful and selfish and unfaithful.

He wasn’t sure when the affairs had begun. For all he knew she’d started seeing other men soon after their wedding. It didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was that Melanie had already lost one parent. He didn’t want her to lose him.

His gaze moved to the picture of the six men. The Brotherhood, that’s what they’d called themselves when they’d arrived at Riverhead College, the prestigious private school in southern Missouri. They had been five young men, best friends, from the wealthiest families in Conja Creek.

In those four years of school, they’d shared kegs of beer, lots of laughs and a solemn promise to have each other’s backs.

He stared at the face of Lucas Jamison, Sheriff of Conja Creek. Good friend, fellow member of the Brotherhood, but despite the promise they had all made to each other so many years ago, how long would Lucas be able to overlook the damning circumstantial evidence and keep him out of jail?

THE BABY WASN’T HIS.

The words played and replayed in her mind the next day as she and Melanie set up for a tea party in Melanie’s room. As Melanie arranged her stuffed teddy bears into chairs at the miniature table, Amanda unboxed a tiny tea set that probably cost as much as a month’s rent on her apartment back home.

The baby wasn’t his. That meant that before her death Erica had been having an affair. That knowledge certainly added a nail into the coffin of suspicion where Sawyer was concerned. Everyone probably believed that he’d found out about the baby and killed her in some kind of jealous rage.

But despite the evidence, there was a big part of Amanda that wanted to believe, needed to believe, that he was innocent.

“I see you have Ms. Panda Bear at the head of the table,” she now said to Melanie. The black and white bear was slightly bedraggled. “She must be a favorite of yours.”

Melanie nodded and smiled at the bear as if it were a beloved sibling, then she gestured Amanda into one of the two empty chairs.

The little teapot was already filled with apple juice, and Helen had promised fresh-baked cookies in fifteen minutes. As Amanda sat at the table, Melanie walked over to the massive wooden toy chest and nearly disappeared into it as she rummaged around. When she stood back up she held two feather boas in her hands.

She walked over to Amanda and placed the bright-pink one around her shoulders, then slung the purple one over her own and giggled with delight.

“I see we’re dressing for tea.”

The voice came from the doorway, and Amanda whirled around to see Lillian standing there. “Lillian!” she exclaimed in surprise, wondering how the woman had not only gotten inside the house but had climbed the stairs without being heard.

“Looks like fun,” she said.

“Would you like to join us?” Amanda asked.

Lillian smiled. “No, but I have a message to deliver from Helen.” She looked at Melanie. “Helen says if you come to the kitchen the cookies are ready and there’s a bowl of frosting that needs to be licked.”

Melanie’s face lit up as she looked at Amanda. Amanda stood and pulled the boa from around her neck. “Go on,” she said. “We can have our tea party later.”

The words were scarcely out of her mouth before Melanie disappeared from the room. Lillian laughed. “She’s a doll, isn’t she?”

“She seems very sweet and easy to get along with,” Amanda agreed.

“But troubled.” Lillian’s smooth smile fell away, and she moved to the window to stare outside. “I wish we all knew what she’d seen the night that Erica was murdered. I wish we could take that vision out of her head and see the guilty person behind bars.”

“Do you know who Erica was having an affair with?” Amanda asked.

Lillian turned from the window to look at her. “So…Sawyer told you she was unfaithful?”

“He told me that the baby she was carrying at the time of her death wasn’t his.”

Moving away from the window, Lillian sighed. “Erica was my best friend, but she loved keeping secrets. She was beautiful and full of life, but she was also the most selfish, indulgent, amoral woman I’ve ever known.” Tears filled her eyes. “She could also be generous and fun loving, and I miss her so much it’s terrible.” She blinked back the tears and drew a deep breath. “And no, I have no idea who Erica might have been sleeping with at the time of her death.”

“Isn’t it possible that it was her lover who killed her?” Amanda asked. She didn’t want to upset Lillian, but it was possible she might unconsciously hold a clue.

“I’m sure Lucas is looking at that angle,” Lillian replied. “So, less than forty-eight hours in the house and Sawyer has already convinced you of his innocence?”

“You don’t think he’s innocent?” Amanda asked.

“I adore Sawyer. I think he’s a good man, but even a good man could have been pushed to extremes by Erica.” She laughed drily. “There were times I wanted to throttle her.” Her laugh strangled in her throat as tears once again filled her eyes.

Amanda wasn’t sure how to respond and thankfully at that time Melanie reappeared in the doorway, a platter of freshly baked cookies in her hands.

“Ah, I see the tea party is about to begin,” Lillian said. “You two go ahead. I just stopped by to see how you were getting along.”

Amanda walked with her to the bedroom door. “We’re doing fine.”

Lillian placed a hand on Amanda’s forearm. “Why don’t we do lunch on Saturday? I’d love to show you around, and I imagine Sawyer is planning on being home for the day.”

“He hasn’t told me his plans for the weekend,” Amanda replied. “He mentioned I should have weekends off. If that’s the case, I’d like to have lunch.” It would be nice to have a woman friend, somebody she could talk to, perhaps confide in. It would also be nice to see a little bit of the town whose name implied bewitchment.

“Great, I’ll call you and we can firm up the plans.” She smiled at Melanie. “Aunt Lilly will see you later, okay, sweetheart?”

Melanie nodded, and with a wave of her fingers, Lillian left the room.

The tea party was a success, but as Amanda played pretend with Melanie she couldn’t help but think about what little Lillian had told her. Erica had been sleeping with somebody at the time of her death, somebody who had gotten her pregnant. Was it possible that that somebody had killed Erica so that the secret affair would never see the light of day?

Sawyer was home in time for dinner, and as they shared the evening meal Amanda mentioned to him Lillian’s visit and the question about the weekend plans.

“I’ll be home all day Saturday so you’re free to take off and have lunch with Lillian or whatever,” he said. He was still dressed in his business clothes and looked unbelievably attractive. He’d shucked his suit jacket and had his white shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his muscled forearms.

He smiled at his daughter. “I’m sure we can find something to occupy ourselves, right, sweetie?” Melanie nodded and gazed at her father with adoring eyes.

Could she have seen her father stab her mother to death, then shove her into the murky swamp water and still look at him as if he hung the moon?

Amanda reminded herself that it wasn’t her place to discern whether Sawyer Bennett was guilty or not. Her job was to take care of Melanie. Nothing more, nothing less.

Melanie had just been excused from the table to go upstairs to her room when a knock sounded at the door. A moment later Helen ushered in a tall, dark-haired man wearing the brown uniform of the local sheriff.

“Lucas,” Sawyer said and stood.

“Evening, Sawyer.” He looked curiously at Amanda.

“This is Amanda Rockport, my new nanny,” Sawyer replied.

“Sorry to intrude,” Lucas said. He directed his focus back to Sawyer. “We need to talk.”

“So talk,” Sawyer replied and sat back down. He gestured to the chair Melanie had vacated.

“You might want to discuss this in private.” Lucas shifted from foot to foot.

“If this has something to do with Erica’s murder investigation, then I have nothing to hide from Amanda. If you don’t need the privacy, then I don’t. Take a load off, Lucas, and tell me why you’re here.”

Amanda watched as Lucas folded his long body into the chair. The tension between the two men was palpable in the air, and Amanda didn’t know whether she should excuse herself or not.

“I’ve got pressure, Sawyer, pressure to make an arrest,” Lucas said.

“Then find the person responsible and do it,” Sawyer replied smoothly.

Lucas rubbed the center of his forehead with two fingers, as if fighting a headache. “I’m doing my best, but I’ve got no other viable suspects, nothing to go on and all fingers pointing at you.”

“Then arrest me.” Sawyer’s voice was deep, filled with suppressed emotion.

A knot of apprehension twisted in Amanda’s stomach, a knot formed by more than a little bit of selfish need. She didn’t want Sawyer arrested. If that happened she’d be out of a job and she didn’t want to go through the process of finding another one. Besides, even though it had only been two days, she’d grown incredibly attached to Melanie.

“Ah, hell, Sawyer, I’ve known you all my life. I know you aren’t a killer.” Lucas dropped his hand from his forehead, his dark eyes pained. “But I just wanted to let you know that the pressure is on and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to stop the inevitable.”

Sawyer held his friend’s gaze for a long moment. “I don’t want you to jeopardize your position because of friendship.”

“I’ll try to buy you some more time, but I thought you should know that unless we can find a decent lead to follow or a person of interest to investigate, the mayor and the DA are going to push for your arrest.” He stood and Sawyer rose, as well.

“I’ll see you out.”

As Sawyer and the sheriff left the dining room, Amanda tried to still the beating of her heart. So, the noose was tightening around Sawyer.

If he went to jail, she supposed Lillian and James would take Melanie, and Amanda would be forced to return to Kansas City.

And what will you do there? a little voice whispered in her head. Fall back into the dark depression that you suffered before you took this job? She thought of the reason she’d been forced to resign from the job she had loved, remembered all the people who had distanced themselves from her, people she’d thought had been her friends.

She couldn’t go back there. She’d have to start all over someplace else. She was jolted out of her self-absorbed pity party as she thought of Melanie.

She’d lost her mother, and if Sawyer were arrested she would lose her father. No matter how close the child felt to the Cordells, it wouldn’t be the same as having a parent to raise her.

Amanda’s heart ached for her. She knew what it was like to grow up without parents. An aunt and uncle had raised her and Johnny when their parents had died in a car accident. As loving as her aunt and uncle had been, it hadn’t been the same as being raised by loving parents.

Melanie needed her daddy, more than ever now, and Amanda needed this job. She was pulled from her thoughts as Sawyer returned to the living room.

While Lucas had been present, Sawyer had appeared relaxed, but now his lips were nothing more than a thin slash in a face taut with strain.

He sat in his chair and looked at her, his dark green eyes empty and hollow. “Time is running out for me. Eventually Lucas will have to make an arrest, and I’m the only suspect around. I’ve got to find out who Erica was having an affair with before her death, because my gut tells me that’s who murdered her.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

His features relaxed a bit and he looked at her thoughtfully. “Maybe. Tonight after Melanie goes to bed I’m going to search Erica’s room again and see if I can find anything that might give me some answers. Maybe you’ll see something that I missed before, something that the authorities didn’t notice when they searched.”

“Sure, I’ll help you look,” she agreed.

“Come to my office after Melanie is asleep and we’ll get started then.” Some of the stress lines smoothed out as he stood once again. “And now I’m going to find my daughter and play a game with her. I’d better spend every moment possible with her in case…” He frowned and allowed his words to fall away, then left the dining room.

Amanda grabbed her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table next to her plate, her heart throbbing with anxiety. What on earth had she stepped into? And why, despite all the evidence to the contrary did her heart tell her that Sawyer wasn’t guilty?

She could only hope that she and Sawyer found something tonight in the dead woman’s belongings, something that pointed to the real guilty party.