His New Nanny

by Carla Cassidy

  The saleslady, who introduced herself as Chloe, was friendly without being pushy. It was obvious Lillian was a frequent shopper as the two women chatted with an easy familiarity.

  Amanda drifted from the jeans to the lingerie, eyeing the tiny colorful thongs and wispy bras. They were sexy and beautiful, but they were the kinds of things that had been in Erica’s drawers and would never be found in hers.

  She moved from the underwear display to the nightclothes. Red silk and black satin, lacy camisoles and tiny panties, so different from the nightshirts Amanda normally wore.

  She ran her fingers over the short red silk nightgown. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself wearing it, a scarlet flame in the blacks and grays of Sawyer’s bed.

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” Her eyes flew open and she stared at Lillian. Lillian laughed. “Don’t try to deny it. I know that look you just had on your face.”

  Amanda felt as if her mother had just found out she was having premarital sex, and the feeling irritated her. “We’re both adults. It’s really nobody’s business.”

  “Well of course it isn’t,” Lillian replied smoothly. She frowned slightly, the gesture forcing a line down the center of her forehead. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Amanda. I like you. I like you a lot. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”

  Amanda smiled at her warmly. “Don’t worry, my heart is in no danger.”

  “Good.” Lillian squeezed her arm, then wandered off toward another rack of clothing.

  Amanda bought the nightgown, and Lillian bought a cute little pink shirt for Melanie and a new pair of slacks for herself.

  After the dress shop they went to a nearby café and each of them ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. “Melanie will love her new blouse,” Amanda said as she cut into the dessert.

  “I love to buy for her,” Lillian replied.

  “You’re so good with her. Is there a reason you and James don’t have children?” Amanda knew she was prying, but she was curious.

  “We tried to get pregnant the first couple of years of our marriage. When it didn’t happen each of us got checked out. The doctors couldn’t find a reason why we couldn’t, so we went home and tried some more. It just never happened for us.”

  She shrugged and picked up her coffee mug. “We talked about adopting, but by the time we thought about it, my art was taking up a lot of my time and James’s insurance business was successful beyond our wildest dreams. We decided we liked our life as it was, just the two of us. What about you? You want kids?”

  Amanda smiled. “I do. I love children. I’d like to have a couple of kids.” She laughed. “Of course, a husband would be nice first.”

  Lillian took a sip of her coffee. “You’re probably not going to find a husband being cooped up in Sawyer’s house.”

  “I’ve got plenty of time to find a husband, have some kids and live happily ever after,” Amanda replied lightly. She took a bite of her cake and tried not to think about how easy it would be to imagine she already had that, with Sawyer and Melanie.

  “So what are your plans when your time with Melanie ends?” Lillian asked. “I mean, eventually either Sawyer will be in jail and other arrangements will have to be made for Melanie, or he won’t go to jail and Melanie will eventually talk and she’ll start back to school. Either way, your nanny job certainly isn’t permanent.”

  “I knew it wasn’t permanent when I took it, and I’m not sure what I’ll do when it’s over.” The idea of returning to her old life certainly held no appeal.

  “I hope you’ll consider staying here in town,” Lillian said. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather go shopping or eat chocolate with.”

  Amanda laughed, warmed by the obvious friendship Lillian seemed to be offering. “I can’t make any promises for the future,” she said. “But I have to confess that Conja Creek is definitely working its magic on me.”

  Lillian’s smile faded and she picked up her coffee cup and stared into the dark brew. “You know when I miss Erica the most?” Her smile was a soft, reflective, sad one. “About once a week late at night she’d call me and tell me to get my butt over to her dock. I’d walk over and meet her there and we’d sit in the dark and talk. Sometimes we just talked silly and laughed for half the night. Other times we’d talk about more serious things. I miss those nights.”

  She took a sip of her coffee, then lowered her cup back to the table. “Maybe some night we can get together on the dock and have a little girl talk in the darkness.”

  Amanda laughed. “I don’t know, sounds kind of spooky to me.”

  “Ah, it’s not spooky. It’s kind of like being at camp. If you end up staying here in Conja Creek, then I think you’re going to be my new camp buddy.”

  Later, as Amanda drove home, she thought about girlfriends she’d thought she’d had, friends who had distanced themselves when Amanda had found herself in trouble. It would be good to have a friend again, and Amanda suspected Lillian was a woman who wouldn’t run at the first sign of problems.

  It was true, Conja Creek had bewitched her. It wasn’t just because of Sawyer and Melanie. Amanda liked the quaint charm of the town itself. Even the swamp drew her with its mysterious darkness.

  Late this afternoon she and Sawyer were going to check out the motels whose matchbooks had been in Erica’s things. Helen was watching Melanie, and Amanda fervently hoped she and Sawyer could discover something that would point a finger to the real guilty party.

  Sawyer. A vision of him filled her head. Since the night they had made love there had been no more physical contact between them. Several times over the past couple of days Jackson Burdeaux had come to the house and the two men had holed up in Sawyer’s office.

  Jackson had told Sawyer that he was not to talk to Lucas anymore, that any and all communication between the sheriff and Sawyer would come through Jackson. Sawyer seemed fine with that.

  It must be horrible to be unable to trust anyone in your life, she thought. She knew his discovery that Adam had slept with Erica had been an enormous blow even though he had downplayed it.

  She parked her car in the driveway and got out, immediately stiffening as she saw George approaching her.

  “Afternoon, Miss Nanny,” he said.

  “George.” She nodded and headed toward the front door. He hurried after her and caught up to her just before she reached the porch.

  He grabbed her by the arm. “I want to talk to you.” He immediately dropped his hand back to his side. “Mr. Bennett told me I make you nervous. I just want you to know I had nothing to do with Erica’s murder. I don’t hurt pretty things.”

  “Okay,” Amanda said, and backed away from him.

  “I think it’s a damn shame, what happened to Erica. But it wasn’t me and you got to believe me. I’ve been working for Mr. Bennett for five years. I don’t want no trouble, not from you or from anyone else. I mind my own business and you should do the same.” Although there was no menace in his voice, his dark eyes shone with single-minded intent.

  “Amanda?” Sawyer’s voice came from the front door and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought I heard your car. George, aren’t you supposed to be weeding the back flower bed?”

  “Yes, sir, I was just on my way there.” George ambled away and Amanda hurried up the steps to where Sawyer awaited her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine. He told me he didn’t murder Erica.”

  Sawyer nodded. “George was one of the first people Lucas investigated. He has an airtight alibi for the night of Erica’s murder.” Sawyer ushered her through the front door. “That night George was at Cajun Country. He got drunk and passed out on the floor. The bartender let him sleep it off in the back room.”

  She followed him into the living room. “He’s just a little bit creepy,” she replied.

  “He’s odd,” Sawyer agreed. “But if he’s guilty of anything I suspect that he indulges in a little bit of illeg
al poaching.”

  “Then I guess that’s one person I can mark off my suspect list,” she replied.

  He grinned at her, a slow easy smile that ignited a tiny flicker of warmth in her stomach. “You have a suspect list?”

  “I do, and George is the first name I’ve been able to mark off.”

  “And who else is on your list?” He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was the first touch she’d had from him since the night they’d made love, and she willed herself not to ache for another from him.

  “Everyone,” she replied and stepped back from him. “Everyone I’ve met since I’ve arrived here.”

  “Am I on it?” His tone was light but there was suddenly an intense shine to his eyes, as if her answer was incredibly important to him.

  “Sawyer, if your name was on the list, I wouldn’t be here. I believe somebody killed your wife, viciously…horribly, but I’m positive that person wasn’t you. And hopefully this afternoon, when we check out those motels, we’ll be able to find out who Erica was seeing and who the real killer is.”

  “Have you always been an optimist?” he asked, his green eyes filled with the light of a man who wanted to believe.

  “Always,” she replied. Until those dark days following her resignation from her job, dark days when she’d lost her belief in anything good. But eventually the darkness had lifted and her natural belief in the goodness of people and life had returned.

  “I have to believe that good wins, Sawyer. I have to believe that the guilty will be punished and you and Melanie will be able to get on with your lives.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek. “I don’t think I could have gotten through the past couple of weeks without you. You give me hope, Amanda.”

  It was at that moment Amanda realized she’d lied to Lillian. Her heart wasn’t safe from this man; it was intricately bound to his. She knew that eventually, when it came time to tell him goodbye, it would be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done in her life.

  IT WAS JUST AFTER THREE when she and Sawyer got into his car to head to the motels they were going to check out. When they’d left, Melanie had been happily ensconced in the kitchen with Helen, helping to make dinner for that evening.

  “Have you heard anything from Adam?” she asked once they were on the road.

  “No, nothing,” he replied. “I imagine he has his hands full. If Lucas has interviewed him, then Stella has probably found out about his fling with Erica, and she’s not a woman who will easily forgive.”

  “Have you rethought your decision to walk away from your firm?”

  “No. It’s the right thing for me to do. I can’t work with Adam anymore. I’ve lost all trust in him.”

  “Then what are you going to do?” she asked. “Eventually this will all be over and you’ll have the rest of your life to think about.”

  He shot her a quick grin. “You mean what am I going to do if I don’t end up making license plates for the rest of my life? I’ll start over. I’ll open my own office and continue to do what I enjoy doing, drawing plans for commercial buildings and homes.”

  They passed the rest of the drive in silence. The first motel they arrived at looked as if it had seen better days. The Night Owl had eight units housed in a low building that had weathered to a dull gray. The neon sign in the front blinked VAC N, as most of the bulbs were burned out.

  “What possessed her?” Sawyer muttered under his breath as he pulled into a parking space in front of the office.

  Amanda said nothing, but her thoughts mirrored his. What had possessed Erica to come here for a seedy affair? What demons had driven the woman to do the things she’d done? They would probably never know, but there was a small part of Amanda that was sad for the dead woman, who had apparently made bad choices that had led to her death.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Sawyer said roughly and opened his car door.

  Together they walked to the office, where the air smelled of stale body odors and a cheap pine cleaner. The man behind the counter looked up from a magazine he’d been reading as they approached.

  “Help you?” he asked.

  Sawyer withdrew his wallet and pulled out a picture of his late wife. “We were wondering if you’d seen this woman checking in with a particular man.”

  “Haven’t seen her,” the man said with barely a glance at the photo.

  “I don’t think you looked closely enough,” Sawyer replied, his voice thrumming with suppressed energy.

  Amanda pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her purse and slid it across the counter, ignoring Sawyer’s look of surprise. “Maybe you need to look again,” she said.

  The money disappeared quicker than a fly in the path of a frog’s tongue. The man picked up the photo and studied it, then slid it back toward Sawyer and shook his head. “Never seen her before.”

  “Are you sure?” Amanda asked. She’d wanted answers, knew that Sawyer had wanted answers, as well. “Are you the only day clerk?”

  “I’m the owner, and I’m on duty all the time. I haven’t seen this woman. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t been here, that just means she wasn’t the one who checked in.” He reopened his magazine, dismissing them.

  “That twenty-dollar bill was a pretty slick move,” Sawyer said as they stepped back outside into the steaming sunshine.

  “Yeah, well it always works in the movies, but it certainly didn’t work for us,” she replied.

  “I owe you a twenty.”

  She flashed him a quick smile. “Consider it a donation to our cause.”

  “Maybe we’ll have better results at the other places,” Sawyer said when they were once again in his car and pulling away from the Night Owl.

  Unfortunately the other three motels yielded the same results. None of the people staffing the front desks remembered seeing Erica.

  Disappointment was the third passenger in the car as they drove home. It sat in the silent space between them like a living, breathing entity.

  Although Amanda desperately wanted to think of something to say that would make them both feel better, no words came to mind. What could you say to a man who was fighting for his life when every lead ended in a blind alley?

  When they reached the house, Helen and Melanie had dinner waiting and the three of them sat down to a somber meal. Amanda picked at the pot roast with little appetite and noticed that Sawyer, too, didn’t eat much.

  It wasn’t until after Melanie was asleep that she and Sawyer talked about the disappointment of the afternoon. She sat in the chair across from him as he leaned back in his desk chair in his office.

  “Maybe we’re wasting our time, running around looking for a killer,” he said. “Maybe it’s nobody we know. It’s possible Erica hooked up with somebody passing through town.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  He hesitated a long moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t. The only thing that makes sense is that the killer is somebody familiar with me, with Erica.”

  “And had something to lose if Erica went public with the affair,” Amanda added. “Is it possible she could have been blackmailing somebody?”

  He leaned forward and ran a hand down the side of his jaw. “I suppose anything is possible, but as crazy as it sounds, blackmail just doesn’t seem like Erica’s style.”

  “Maybe we should make a list of all the potential suspects and write down what their motive might be,” she offered.

  “That’s a good idea.” He booted up his computer and pulled up a Word file. She pulled her chair around the desk so she could sit next to him.

  His cologne eddied in her head, for a moment making it difficult for her to focus. The heat of his body warmed her, and all she could think about was how it had felt to be held in his arms, how wonderful it had been when they’d made love.

  “Lucas. He has to top the list,” he said as he typed in the sheriff’s name. “We know he had some kind o
f personal interaction with Erica.”

  “And as a close friend of yours, and being the sheriff, he wouldn’t want an affair with her made public,” she replied, forcing herself to focus on what they were doing. “Then there’s Adam. Again, as your business partner and friend, he wouldn’t want anyone to know he’d slept with Erica.”

  “And if that wasn’t enough, there was the fact that he’s married to Stella.”

  “Who else?” Amanda prompted.

  He frowned and stared at the computer screen in front of him. “I suddenly realize how little I knew about how Erica spent her time while I was at work. I’ve always had a network of friends and business associates who occasionally came to the house, but none that she showed any real interest in.”

  “I’ve asked Lillian if she knew who Erica was having an affair with, but I didn’t ask her if Erica showed any interest in anyone in particular. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

  “And I need to think, but at the moment my head is reeling and I can’t seem to focus on anything.” He saved the file, then punched off the computer. “I think I’ll go for a walk, see if that clears my head.”

  “Then I’ll just say good-night. It’s been a long day.” She moved the chair back where it belonged, then together they left his office.

  She climbed the stairs as he went out the front door and into the night beyond. She went first to Melanie’s room, comforted by the shine of the night-light and the soft, easy breaths of the sleeping child.

  She stood at the doorway between the two bedrooms and wondered what the future held for her, for Melanie and for Sawyer? How did a person investigate the last days or weeks of a woman’s life when that woman had loved to keep secrets? If her best friend hadn’t known who she was seeing or who might have interested her, then what hope did they have?

  Turning away from Melanie’s room, Amanda softly closed the bathroom door, then washed off her makeup, brushed her teeth and changed into the silk nightgown she’d bought that morning.

  As the silk slid down her body to her knees, she told herself she’d bought the gown for herself, not for Sawyer, but she couldn’t help but imagine how his hands would warm the cool material.