Jackson grinned. “You really want me to sing, I will, but I remember a time long ago when I was singing in the shower and you told me if I didn’t quit the caterwauling you were going to make a kite out of my vocal chords.”
Sawyer smiled at the memory. “As I recall, that was the early morning after a late-night keg party.”
“Those were the good old days,” Jackson said as he pulled out on the road that would carry them into Conja Creek proper.
“The best,” Sawyer agreed.
“There will be more good days, Sawyer,” Jackson said. “We’re going to get this all behind you and let you get on with the rest of your life.” He shot Sawyer a cocky grin. “Hell, man, you’ve hired the best defense attorney in the entire south.”
“And the most humble,” Sawyer said drily.
Jackson waved one hand dismissively. “Humility is vastly overrated. It’s been my experience that jurors like a man with a little self-confidence.” He paused a moment, then continued, “I spoke with the DA last night. I don’t think he’s going to fight us on bail. Of course, he could always decide to play hardball at the last minute.”
“I need to be out,” Sawyer said, hating the faint whisper of desperation in his voice. “A killer is walking free, and I need to be home to make sure that Melanie and Amanda stay safe.”
Jackson was silent for a long moment, then he sighed. “You know, we’ve been approaching this as if the murder was all about Erica.”
Sawyer eyed him in confusion. “She’s the one who wound up dead.”
“Yeah, but maybe she wound up dead because somebody wanted to hurt you. Maybe we should be looking into who might have a grudge against you, or at least something to gain by setting you up for the fall.”
Sawyer stared out at the passing landscape, the dull throb of a headache beginning to pulse at his temples. “I can’t think of anyone who would hate me that much. I can’t think of anyone who I would consider an enemy. I was up all night working this from different angles and the only thing that makes sense is that somehow Erica enraged or threatened somebody. Maybe it was whoever fathered the baby she was carrying.”
He fell silent as Jackson turned down Main Street and the sheriff’s office was visible halfway down the block. A nightmare. He was trapped in a nightmare and couldn’t wake up.
Jackson parked in front, cut the engine, then turned to look at Sawyer, no hint of humor in his dark gray eyes. “I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of this mess. My investigator is working day and night on this.”
“I know you’ll do everything you can,” Sawyer replied. “But I’ve got to be honest with you, at this moment in my life there isn’t much you can say that will make me feel any better.”
“Understood.” Jackson unbuckled his seat belt. “You need a few minutes before we go inside?”
Sawyer drew a deep breath, then unbuckled his belt. “No. Let’s just get on with it.”
Together the two men got out of the car. Before they could reach the door, Lucas stepped out to greet them. As Sawyer saw the pain that darkened Lucas’s eyes, the obvious stress that lined his face, Sawyer realized his arrest was almost as hard on Lucas as it was on himself.
“Lucas,” Jackson greeted him. “You know my client’s arrest is a travesty of justice.”
“Save it for the courtroom, Jackson,” Lucas replied gruffly, his gaze not wavering from Sawyer. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. If I had any control over this it wouldn’t be going down this way.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sawyer said. Did Lucas feel so bad because he knew without a doubt that Sawyer was innocent? Did he know that because he was the monster who had murdered Erica?
Sawyer hated himself for suspecting not only a lifetime friend but also a man who had sworn to protect the people and uphold justice. “So, what happens now?” he asked as the three men entered the building.
“You’ll be officially arrested, photographed and fingerprinted,” Lucas said. “Then you’ll be held in a cell here until your arraignment on Monday morning.”
“Before you do all that, have you come up with any leads on the intruder who came into my home and hurt Amanda?”
Lucas shook his head. “Nothing yet.”
“You make sure you check George’s and Helen’s alibis.” Although Sawyer would be shocked if either of them had anything to do with the attack, he couldn’t discount that both of them made Amanda uneasy.
An edge of anger rose up inside him, anger at the circumstances that had brought him to this time and place. He took a step closer to Lucas, and his anger simmered hotter. “Just keep this in mind, Lucas. While you have me locked up behind bars, the real killer is out there walking the streets. There’s a young woman and my daughter without the benefit of a male in the house. You and the DA better pray that nothing happens to them. That’s all I’ve got to say.”
Lucas nodded. “Sawyer Bennett, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Erica Bennett.”
As Lucas read him his rights, visions of Melanie flashed through Sawyer’s head, quickly followed by mental pictures of Amanda. He consciously willed them away, and without them he was left with only his stark despair and a horrifying sense that the worst was yet to come.
Chapter Thirteen
Amanda knew he was gone before she opened her eyes. There was an emptiness in the silence that surrounded her that let her know Sawyer had left the building.
She rolled over on her side and opened her eyes in time to see the clock change from four minutes after seven to five after. She closed her eyes once again and thought of the night before.
Their lovemaking had been fierce and intense. Afterward they had clung to each other like two storm-tossed sailors who knew that eventually the sharks would arrive.
Telling him about Bobby had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever done, but once the story was out, she’d been relieved by his response. She cried sometimes for Bobby, who had chosen such a tragic exit from this life. And now she had another child to worry about.
She’d told Sawyer she’d think about staying on to raise Melanie if he was convicted. It was certainly something she didn’t want to agree to without giving it a lot of thought. If she did agree, then she was committing the rest of her life to the little girl. She’d be a single parent to a child who would carry a certain amount of emotional baggage from these events in her life.
There were pros and cons to consider, the biggest pro being that she loved Melanie. And she was in love with Sawyer.
Even if he was released tomorrow and the real culprit was placed behind bars, she suspected her love story with Sawyer wouldn’t have a happy ending.
She had no idea how he felt about her. He hadn’t told her he loved her. He desired her, that much was clear, but desire without love had no hope for a future. She suspected Lillian was right, that she was an easy convenience in his life. She knew he was grateful to her for her support, but gratitude wasn’t the same as love, either.
Knowing that all too soon Melanie would be not only awake but hungry, as well, Amanda got out of bed and padded down the hallway to her own room. Once there she showered quickly, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
As she walked down the staircase to the lower level, no sounds or scents wafted from the kitchen. Although she missed coming down to the kitchen to fresh coffee already prepared, she was grateful that Sawyer had given Helen some time off. Amanda would rather be alone in the house with Melanie than have somebody inside whom she didn’t trust.
Within minutes she had coffee made and was settled in at the kitchen table with a cup. She faced the window where she could look out to the backyard, and sipped her coffee thoughtfully.
What was happening to Sawyer at this moment? What must he be thinking, feeling? Her heart constricted as she thought of his ordeal.
Funny, but she wasn’t afraid to be here alone in the house with Melanie. She trusted that the alarm system would indicate if anyone was trying to break in,
and she wouldn’t hesitate to use Sawyer’s gun to stop an intruder from gaining entrance.
It was possible they might never discover who killed Erica. The best they could hope for was that Jackson Burdeaux could create enough reasonable doubt to see Sawyer free of all the charges against him.
She’d only taken a couple of sips of her coffee when the sounds of soft whining coming through the utility room reminded her that there was a third warm body in the house. Buddy.
The puppy greeted her with a yip of excitement as she opened his crate door. He wiggled himself right into her arms, his little pink tongue licking every place it came into contact with.
As she carried him to the back door she realized that Sawyer probably hadn’t considered all the in and out of the house a new dog would require. She grabbed the leash that hung on a hook by the back door and hooked it to Buddy’s collar.
“I know training a new puppy isn’t in your job description,” he’d said to her. Falling in love with him hadn’t been in her job description, either.
She peered outside the door and saw nobody around. “Be a good boy and do your business quickly,” she said as she punched off the alarm, opened the door, then set him down on the grass next to the back door. He danced around her feet, growled at the leash, then whimpered for her to pick him up. “Come on, Buddy, go potty,” she said. He sat and looked up at her, his head cocked to one side. She bent and stood him on his feet. “Come on, Buddy, you can do it.” He complied with her wishes, finally squatting and gazing at her with adorable brown eyes.
“Good boy,” she exclaimed. “Buddy is a good boy.” He bounced back to her arms and she went back into the house, locked the door and reset the alarm. She fed him, then shut him in the utility room and returned to the table.
The sound of footsteps racing down the stairs let her know Melanie had awakened. She came into the kitchen, pink pajamas wrinkled and her long dark hair a cloud of tangles down her back.
“Good morning,” Amanda said with forced brightness.
“Morning.” Melanie looked around the kitchen in obvious confusion. “Where’s Helen?”
“Your daddy gave Helen some time off, so it’s just going to be me and you for the next couple of days.”
Melanie slid onto the chair opposite her at the table and eyed her dubiously. “Do you know how to cook?”
Amanda smiled. “Probably not as well as Helen, but well enough so we won’t starve. In fact, I was just thinking about making some scrambled eggs and toast.”
“I like scrambled eggs,” Melanie replied. “And sometimes Helen would let me help her cook.”
“I was hoping you’d offer to help. I think we’ll make a terrific team.”
Melanie smiled brightly. “Then let’s make some eggs, but first I have to visit Buddy. I’m sure he missed me during the night.”
Breakfast preparations were accompanied by Melanie’s chatter. It was as if now that she’d found her voice she didn’t want a minute to go by without using it.
Amanda didn’t mind a bit, but rather savored every word that came out of Melanie’s mouth. “I can’t wait until Buddy is old enough and smart enough to sleep in my room,” she said as they were eating. “Did you have a dog when you were a little girl?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Melanie frowned sympathetically. “Your mommy wouldn’t let you have one?”
“Actually, my mommy and daddy died when I was a little girl and so my aunt and uncle raised me and they didn’t like dogs,” Amanda said.
Melanie’s eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. “Did a swamp monster kill your mommy and daddy?”
“Oh, no, honey. They died in an accident. There was no swamp monster.”
Melanie set her fork down next to her plate, her eyes still widened with a touch of fear. “Mommy used to tell me that swamp monsters ate bad little girls, so I try to be a good girl. I really, really try.”
“Oh, sweetie, come here.” Amanda scooted her chair back from the table and opened her arms to Melanie.
She crawled up on Amanda’s lap and wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck. Amanda closed her eyes and held tight, wondering what kind of woman, what kind of mother, would fill her child’s head with such nonsense. Still, she knew better than to dismiss the existence of swamp monsters to a child who was certain she’d seen one twice.
“Melanie, honey, your daddy and I would never, ever allow a swamp monster to hurt you.” Amanda rubbed her hand down Melanie’s slender back. “Even if you were misbehaving, I’d protect you. I’d poke that ugly old swamp monster in his eyes and twist his nose until it looked like a pretzel.” Melanie’s giggle encouraged Amanda to continue. “I’d bop him over the head with a skillet.”
“And pull all his feathers out of his head?” Melanie reared back to look at Amanda.
“Did the swamp monster have feathers on his head?” she asked. Melanie nodded somberly. “Then I’d pull out every one of those feathers and make a swamp monster pillow out of them that you could punch anytime you wanted to.”
Melanie drew in a deep, tremulous breath. “I love you, Amanda.” She leaned forward, back into the embrace of Amanda’s arms.
“I love you, too,” Amanda replied and it was at that moment she knew that if the worst happened and Sawyer was sent away, she could remain here and raise Melanie. She could easily give up her personal life to see that Melanie was loved and felt safe. She had a crazy feeling that fate had arranged everything so she could be here to love this child.
It was just after noon when the phone rang. It was Lillian. “Are we on for lunch and a little shopping spree tomorrow?”
“Can’t. Sawyer won’t be home so I’m on duty throughout the weekend.”
“Is Sawyer working some big project or something?” Lillian asked curiously.
Amanda glanced into the utility room where Melanie was seated on the floor playing with Buddy. She walked to the opposite side of the kitchen before answering, not wanting Melanie to hear what she said. “Sawyer was arrested this morning for Erica’s murder.”
Lillian gasped. “Oh, no! Is there anything James and I can do? Are you and Melanie all right?”
“Melanie doesn’t know what’s going on. She thinks he’s on a business trip. We’re hoping he’ll get bail and be able to come home Monday.”
“Oh, hon, you must be so upset. Have Helen make you some of her chocolate delight brownies. You know chocolate really does make you feel better when you’re upset.”
“Helen is taking some time off so I’m chief cook and bottle washer around here at the moment,” Amanda said.
“Get out of town.” Lillian sounded more horrified by the idea of no cook in the house than by Sawyer’s arrest. “I absolutely insist that you and Melanie come here for dinner tonight. Cook is doing Italian and I know Melanie loves his meatballs and cheese bread.”
The invitation wasn’t without appeal. If left on their own they were probably looking at a meal of soup and sandwiches. What appealed more than the promise of a good Italian meal was the emotional support she knew Lillian and James would offer.
“And I’ll make sure Cook makes something sinfully sweet and chocolate for dessert,” Lillian added to sweeten the pot.
“All right,” Amanda agreed. Why not? What could it hurt? She and Melanie couldn’t be prisoners inside the house. “What time do you want us there?”
“Shall we say sevenish? We’ll eat and then I’ll take you on a grand tour of the house and my studio.”
“Okay, then we’ll see you at seven.” Amanda carried the cordless phone back to the cradle, then moved to the utility room door. “What do you think about having dinner tonight at James and Lillian’s house?” She watched Melanie as she placed Buddy back in the crate.
“Okay,” Melanie agreed easily.
“Lillian said it’s Italian night.”
“Yum-yum. Can we watch a movie on the DVD in the living room?” Melanie asked.
“Sure, sounds like a great way to
pass the afternoon.” Within minutes the two were seated on the sofa watching one of Melanie’s favorite Disney movies.
As Melanie laughed at the antics of the animated creatures, Amanda reached up and touched the back of her head. The wound she’d received when she’d been hit was tender to the touch but seemed to be healing nicely. The injury hurt less than the unanswered questions it had caused. Why me? Why had somebody wanted to hurt her?
She hadn’t met many people since arriving in Conja Creek and certainly hadn’t had any trouble with anyone. The only thing that made any kind of crazy sense was that she’d been attacked by Helen, and the motive was that Helen was determined to be the only woman in Melanie’s life.
Helen fawned over Melanie, encouraged the little girl to spend as much time as possible with her. Wasn’t it possible that her love for Melanie had somehow transformed into an obsession—a deadly obsession?
The movie was almost over when the phone rang again. It was Sawyer, and her heart squeezed into itself at the sound of his familiar but tired voice.
“Lucas let me use the phone,” he said. “I wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
“We’re doing fine. What about you?” She wanted to reach through the phone line and yank him through, back where he belonged.
“I’m in a cell by myself and they’re treating me fine.”
“Melanie and I are watching a movie now, then this evening we’ve been invited to James and Lillian’s house for dinner,” she said. He replied with a weighty silence. “Sawyer, we can’t be prisoners in the house,” she added softly.
“I know.” He released a heavy sigh. “I just worry.”
“And I’ll be careful. Besides, I still wonder if Helen isn’t behind everything.” She kept her voice soft so Melanie wouldn’t hear what she said.
“Lucas is checking alibis for the night you were attacked and rechecking hers for the night of Erica’s death. At least Helen can’t get through the security system. She doesn’t know the code. You know to be wary if she shows up at the house for any reason.”
His New Nanny Page 14