LAST SEEN...

by Carla Cassidy

  As she stepped away from him, Adam's heart expanded in a way it never had before. Oh, Kurt, he thought. You have no idea what you missed in not knowing this sweet little girl.

  "Do you like ice cream?" Maggie asked as she set a cup and saucer in front of Mr. Bear.

  "Sure. It's one of my most favorite things to eat."

  "Alyssa has an ice-cream parlor in her bed-and-breakfast. She has chocolate marshmallow ice cream."

  "I like strawberry," Adam replied.

  "She has that, too." Maggie grabbed a cup and saucer for herself and sat at the opposite end of the box from Adam. "My friends, their daddies take them for ice cream sometimes." She sighed heavily. "But I don't have a daddy to take me for ice cream."

  "Maybe I could take you for ice cream some time." The words left his mouth before he'd thought them through. What was he doing? The last thing he wanted was to become personally involved in Maggie's life. The last thing he wanted was to have any sort of emotional investment where she was concerned.

  Her gray eyes sparkled brightly and she clapped her hands together. "For real? Do you promise?"

  How could Adam deny her? "Sure, I promise."

  "That would make me happy."

  At that moment Adam saw Breanna seated on the front porch. He wondered how much of the exchange between him and Maggie she'd heard. "I think I'll go say hi to your mommy now," he said.

  "Okay."

  Adam pulled himself up and ambled to the porch, unable to help but notice how lovely Breanna looked in a colorful sundress that emphasized her bronze skin tones and dark eyes.

  "Good morning," he said.

  "I see you survived the night," she said and motioned to the wicker chair next to where she sat. Her eyes were dark, fathomless and Adam wished he knew what thoughts were flittering through her mind.

  "Yeah, I survived."

  "You realize you just made a fatal mistake."

  He eyed her curiously. "What are you talking about?"

  "You actually sat down and drank a cup of pretend coffee with Maggie. Now she'll expect you to play every time she sees you outside."

  "I suppose there are worse mistakes I could make," he replied.

  "You realize she won't forget that you mentioned taking her for ice cream. Kids have amazing memories and Maggie can be as tenacious as a pit bull."

  "I made a promise … and I don't break my promises."

  "How refreshing, a man who doesn't break promises," she said dryly. But, before he could reply, she continued. "Actually, I was going to go over to your place to talk to you this morning. I think maybe we've solved the mystery of the phone calls and the peeper."

  "Really?" He listened with interest as she told him about Michael Rivers and Rachel and their suspicions that it was him who had been making the calls and spying on Rachel. "What have you found out about him?" he asked when she was finished explaining things.

  She frowned. "He's out of jail. He got out a month ago. Apparently he moved to Sycamore Ridge, a little town just north of here." She gestured to the cordless phone on the chair next to her. "I'm waiting to hear from his parole officer to find out exactly where he is and what he's doing."

  "Then what?"

  "Then I go have a little talk with him. If he did these things, then he'll be back in jail so fast his head will spin." Her jaw was set with fierce determination.

  "You won't go talk to him alone, right? You have a partner or somebody who goes with you on things like this?"

  Logically, he knew she was a cop, trained to encounter dangerous criminals and situations, but the thought of her confronting the man who'd hit him in the head with a brick, caused a stir of anxiety to fill him.

  "I have a wonderful partner named Abe Solomon. He's a great guy and I trust him with my life." Her affection for her partner was evident in her voice.

  Adam was surprised to feel a flicker of an alien emotion wing through him … an emotion that felt remarkably like jealousy. "So, you and your partner … you're tight?"

  She nodded. "You have to be tight with your partner when you're a cop. It's kind of like a marriage … without the heartache and without the sex." Her cheeks pinkened slightly.

  "You've been partners with this Abe for a long time?"

  "For almost five years. He's planning on retiring in the next year or so and I hate to even think about it. It will be like losing my favorite uncle."

  A wave of relief rushed through him. A favorite uncle … retirement … Abe Solomon was obviously considerably older than Breanna and definitely not a love interest.

  What do you care, he mentally chided himself. She isn't a love interest of yours, either. She had been one of Kurt's women and that was the end of the story.

  "I'd better get back," he said and stood, suddenly needing to be away from her.

  "How's the painting? Have you started anything yet?"

  He stared at her blankly for a moment, then remembered. "Oh … the painting … no, I haven't started on anything. I'm waiting for inspiration to hit." He stepped off the porch. "You'll let me know what you find out about this Michael Rivers guy?"

  "Sure," she agreed. She stood and he couldn't help but notice how the dress clung to her curves.

  "I'll see you later." He turned to escape, but nearly ran into Maggie, who looked up at him with a sweet smile.

  "How about we go get some ice cream tonight?" she asked.

  He wanted to say no. He felt off balance, torn between his attraction to Breanna and the knowledge that he didn't want to be attracted to her. But Maggie's eyes held the eagerness of anticipation and no matter what his personal baggage, he couldn't disappoint her.

  He looked questioningly at Breanna, who frowned thoughtfully. "Of course, when I told Maggie I'd take her for ice cream, I intended you to go along as well," he said.

  "I wouldn't allow it any other way," she replied.

  "Mommy, you can't say no," Maggie exclaimed as if horrified by the very thought. "We'll have ice cream and it will be such fun!"

  Breanna gazed at her daughter and in her eyes Adam saw the enormous love of mother for child. She looked from Maggie to Adam and he had the feeling that she felt just like he did … somehow reluctant to go and yet equally reluctant to disappoint Maggie.

  "I suppose we could go for ice cream after dinner tonight," she finally said.

  "Yea!" Maggie jumped up and down and clapped her hands together.

  "Shall we make it about six or so?" he asked.

  "That would be fine."

  "I'll see you then." It's just ice cream, he told himself as he walked back to his house. It wasn't like he'd invited Breanna for a date or anything like that. This was about buying ice cream for Maggie.

  As he picked up his cup and went back into the cottage, he wondered why it somehow seemed so much more complicated than just an ice-cream cone.

  * * *

  It was ridiculous. Breanna stood before the mirror in her bedroom and looked at her reflection. This was the third outfit she'd pulled on just to go get ice cream.

  First the shorts had been too short, then the blouse had been all wrong. Now she wondered why she was spending so much time worrying about what she had on. She finally settled on a salmon-colored "skort" and matching sleeveless blouse. Brown sandals adorned her feet and although she had put on a little mascara, she refused to put on lipstick. That would make it too much like a date.

  Checking her watch, she realized it was almost six. She left her bedroom. "Maggie, it's almost time to go." She found her daughter sitting on the foot of her bed putting on her shoes.

  "This is going to be fun, isn't it, Mommy?" Maggie's eyes shone brightly. "It's gonna be just like having a daddy."

  Breanna's heart constricted. More and more frequently Maggie mentioned the lack of a father in her life and Breanna ached with the void her daughter felt, a void she didn't have the power to fill.

  "Maggie, you know Adam is just a neighbor, not your daddy," Breanna replied.

  "I know. But I
can pretend … just to myself."

  "But no amount of pretending is going to make him your daddy."

  "Mommy, I know that," Maggie replied with a touch of impatience. She got her last shoe on and stood. "I just sometimes wish I had a daddy."

  As they walked down the stairs, Breanna thought about Kurt and her heart grew hard and cold. How could a man so easily walk away from parenthood?

  He'd left her when she was seven months pregnant, confessing that he'd jumped into the marriage and wasn't ready to be a husband or a father. She tried never to think about the other hurtful things he'd said when he'd walked away.

  He'd left her a post office box number in Platte City, Missouri, and told her to send him the divorce papers there.

  She'd sent him the divorce papers and every year at Christmastime she'd sent him a picture of the little girl he'd sired. She'd never heard a word from him and she hated him for not being man enough to be a father, and hated herself for choosing so badly when it came to a husband and father for her baby.

  As she and Maggie left the house, she shoved away thoughts of Kurt, knowing that thinking about him always put her in a foul mood.

  She and Maggie sat in the wicker chairs on the porch, waiting for six o'clock and Adam to appear. Maggie's face held the sweetness of childish anticipation as she wiggled in the chair.

  Breanna leaned back and thought about that morning. As she'd sat here and watched Adam with Maggie, a bittersweet pang had exploded in her heart. As he'd pretended to drink Maggie's coffee she'd seen what life might have been like for her daughter if Maggie had had a daddy.

  If Maggie had a daddy, there would be father-daughter moments that Breanna couldn't provide for her child. But Adam Spencer couldn't provide those moments, either.

  He'd made it clear he wanted no children and he was only in town on a temporary basis. Besides, she wasn't in the market for a husband. She'd never again trust her own judgment where a man was concerned and refused to go through the process of finding not only a good man for herself, but a good stepfather for Maggie as well.

  Speaking of men… Adam's door opened and he stepped outside, looking far too handsome in a pair of worn jeans and a short-sleeved blue pullover shirt.

  "Adam!" Maggie cried as she jumped down from the chair. "We're ready for ice cream!"

  "Good, so am I," he replied with a warm smile that made sunbursts of smile lines radiate from the outside corners of his eyes. His smile remained as he gazed at Breanna. "You want me to drive or can we walk?"

  "Walk!" Maggie exclaimed.

  Breanna stood and shrugged. "It's about ten blocks to the square, but it's a nice evening for a walk."

  "Then walk it is," he replied.

  Breanna and Adam fell into step side by side on the sidewalk as Maggie danced just ahead of them. The approach of evening brought a slight breeze that was pleasant and filled with the scent of spring flowers.

  "Beautiful evening," he observed, as if reading her mind.

  "We'd better enjoy them. Summer gets hot in Cherokee Corners. But, of course, you probably won't be here to suffer the heat of the late summer months."

  "That's true. By July I'll probably be cooped up in my office in Kansas City, all dreams of being an artist dashed by a lack of any real talent."

  She cast him a sideways glance, noting how his blue shirt brought out the clear blue of his eyes. "You don't sound too upset about the prospect."

  "What? Of being back in my office? To tell you the truth, I like my work as the owner of an accounting firm. I know most people think account work is boring, but I like not having surprises when it comes to my livelihood." He smiled again. "I'm sure your work in law enforcement is much more exciting."

  "You'd be surprised at how much drudge work there is." She felt herself relaxing with each step they took and the easiness of the conversation flowing between them. "Much of my time is spent writing reports and reading files."

  "But you work a prostitution detail. Doesn't that get a little dicey?"

  "It hasn't yet," she replied. "Maggie, wait for us before crossing the street," she instructed, then looked back at him. "I've never had any problems working undercover prostitution. Sure, some of the men we arrest get really angry, but I've always got plenty of backup and I don't do any of the real arresting on those nights."

  They caught up with Maggie, who was waiting for them at the corner. "Hold my hand," Breanna said and held out her hand to her daughter.

  "I want to hold Adam's hand," Maggie replied and smiled up at Adam.

  Adam looked surprised, but took Maggie's hand in his and the three of them crossed the street. "When you were little, did your mommy make you hold her hand when you crossed a street?" Maggie asked.

  "Always," Adam replied.

  "And did your daddy take you for ice cream?"

  "Not that I remember. My daddy died when I was eleven years old," Adam said.

  "That's sad," Maggie replied. "We don't know where my daddy is. He went away before I was borned and we haven't seen him since."

  "So what kind of ice cream is everyone going to get?" Breanna asked, uncomfortable with the conversation's direction and attempting to change the subject.

  "Strawberry," Adam replied, the expression on his face letting her know he knew what she was doing.

  "Chocolate marshmallow with some sprinkles on top," Maggie exclaimed. "What about you, Mommy? What kind are you going to get?"

  Breanna pretended to frown thoughtfully. "I don't know … maybe some artichoke ice cream.

  Maggie's giggles rode the breeze. "That's silly, Mommy."

  "Nobody eats artichoke ice cream," Adam added. Breanna laughed. "Then maybe I'll just get vanilla."

  As Maggie ran ahead, Breanna felt Adam's gaze lingering on her. "What?" she asked.

  "Vanilla ice cream? That surprises me. I'd have figured you for something more exotic, more adventurous."

  She laughed again. "Then you definitely have the wrong impression about me. I'm neither exotic nor adventurous. I'm just a vanilla ice cream kind of woman."

  She fought a sudden edge of bitterness as she remembered that had been the problem with her marriage. Kurt had been disappointed to discover she was a vanilla ice cream kind of woman.

  They entered the city square and the red-and-pink awning of the ice-cream parlor came into view. The ice-cream parlor comprised the bottom floor of the three-story building. The upper two floors were The Redbud Bed and Breakfast, so named after the state tree.

  Tall, round glass-topped tables dotted the interior, but Maggie clambered up on a stool at the counter, behind which Alyssa stood dipping up ice cream and old-fashioned charm in equal doses. Breanna slid onto the stool next to Maggie and Adam took the one next to Breanna.

  "Hey, what have we here?" Alyssa leaned across the counter and tapped Maggie on the nose. "I'll bet somebody is ready for a two-story chocolate marshmallow cone."

  Maggie giggled. "Yup," she exclaimed. "And Mommy wants vanilla and Adam wants strawberry."

  Alyssa smiled at Breanna, then at Adam. "How are you two doing?"

  They small-talked for a few minutes, then Alyssa served them their cones. Maggie got hers first, then Breanna and finally Adam. As Alyssa handed Adam his, her smile wavered slightly and Breanna thought she saw a whisper of worry darken her cousin's eyes. It was there only a moment, then gone.

  As they ate their ice cream, they visited both with Alyssa and with the people who came into the shop. But Breanna couldn't stop thinking about that look she'd seen in Alyssa's eyes.

  "Would you mind watching Maggie," Breanna asked Adam when they'd finished their cones. "I'd like to talk to Alyssa alone for just a minute."

  "Sure," he agreed. "Come on, Maggie, let's go outside and you can tell me what kind of stores there are around here."

  When they were gone, Breanna leaned over the counter and eyed her cousin intently. "You felt something when you handed Adam his cone," she said. "And don't try to deny it. I saw it in your eyes."
<
br />   "It was nothing really," Alyssa protested. "Just confusion … I felt confusion. Honestly, Bree, I don't think it's anything to worry about … at least where Adam is concerned." She frowned.

  "But…?" Breanna pressed.

  Alyssa's brown eyes seemed to grow darker. "I still have a feeling of something bad happening … something horrid." She forced a laugh and waved her hand as if to dismiss the entire topic. "I've been feeling off-kilter for days now. I can't figure it out."

  "Is there anything I can do to help?" Breanna asked.

  Alyssa smiled and shook her head. "Unfortunately, no." She grabbed a sponge and wiped down the counter. "I keep thinking maybe the moon is in a weird phase or my hormones are out of whack."

  "You aren't pregnant, are you?"

  Alyssa laughed. "That would be a little difficult since I'm not even dating anyone right now." She reached across the counter and touched Breanna's hand. "Just be careful, Bree. I've got a bad feeling and I don't know what it's about or who it concerns."

  "I've got to go," Breanna said, worried by Alyssa's warning and realizing her daughter was outside with a man she knew little about, even though she could see them from where she stood.

  "Call me," Alyssa said as Breanna ran out the door.

  She approached where Adam and Maggie were seated on a bench. Maggie was pointing to various shops and chatting like a magpie and Adam had a bemused smile on his face.

  He stood as she approached. "I now know which store sells the best toys, who has the cutest clothes and what clerks are cranky."

  "I told him about Mrs. Clairborn," Maggie explained. "I told him she was a witch!"

  "That's not nice to say," Breanna replied, although secretly she agreed with her daughter. Katherine Clairborn was a mean-spirited witch.

  But her head was still filled with Alyssa's warning. Be careful. Be careful of what? Of Adam? Now that she thought about it, she'd received the first strange phone call the night he'd moved in next door. Coincidence? Or something more sinister?

  "Breanna?"

  She flushed, realizing she'd been staring at him. "We'd better start back home. It's getting dark."

  "Are you okay?" he asked softly as they headed for home.

  "Fine," she replied in distraction. It made no sense for Adam to have made those. calls to her, and he certainly hadn't hit himself over the head with the brick the night before. It was all so confusing.