The Lawman’s Nanny Op

by Carla Cassidy

  The afternoon passed with more of the same, chasing down false leads and fighting against a frustration that threatened to be all consuming.

  He left the office at dusk but before heading home he swung by Portia’s place. He wanted to make sure that Layla was really there and that Portia wasn’t all alone.

  With each day that passed and in which nothing more happened, he wondered if maybe there was no further danger for Portia. Perhaps the crash on the road had truly been some sort of accident and the person responsible had simply been too scared to stop.

  Whoever had a beef with Portia, maybe their anger had been vented with the posting of the flyers and the vandalism in the day care. Maybe he was looking for trouble where there was none.

  Maybe he was inventing trouble in order to have a purpose in her life. The thought hit him square in the stomach and nearly stole his breath away.

  Immediately he shoved it away. That was not what he was doing. There had been three incidents of violence directed at Portia. He’d be a fool and completely irresponsible not to expect a fourth.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled up to the curb in front of her house and saw Layla’s sports car in the driveway.

  Good, at least Portia wouldn’t be alone.

  An old rush of feelings swept through him, a bittersweet pang of loss, of broken dreams and unrealized hopes. The familiar bitterness crawled up the back of his throat and he swallowed hard against it.

  As the emotions swelled inside him, he knew his brother was wrong about him. No matter how many sparks there were between him and Portia, no matter how lonely he found his life, he was never going to give his heart to another woman.

  Jacob was wrong. He was meant to be alone.

  Chapter 7

  “It’s going to look awesome,” Portia said as she stepped back from the bright yellow wall that they’d finished painting over the last couple of hours.

  “To heck with the walls, what I want to know is what are you going to feed me for dinner? I’m starving,” Layla exclaimed as she laid down her paint roller. “You’ve practically worked me to death this afternoon.”

  Portia laughed. “And just think, we get to do it all again tomorrow. We still have three walls left to paint.” She threw an arm around Layla’s shoulder. “And dinner is going to be pizza delivery. I’m too tired to cook.”

  Together the two women cleaned up their brushes and rollers and left the garage and headed for the house. Once inside, Layla plopped onto the sofa while Portia grabbed the phone to order the pizza. When the pizza order had been placed Portia joined her friend on the sofa.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you taking some time off and hanging out here with me,” Portia said.

  Layla smiled and shoved a strand of her long blond hair behind one of her ears. “Work has been slow and I had vacation time coming, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend it with than you.” She wrinkled her nose and frowned. “And I think it sucks, that I don’t have some Prince Charming begging me to spend a couple of days with him.”

  “This town is definitely short of Prince Charmings,” Portia agreed and her head immediately filled with a vision of Caleb.

  He might have been her Prince Charming years ago but she’d believed his crown had tarnished and there was no way to get the shine back. All day long she’d wondered if she’d been wrong about him back then. Had it been her heart that had tarnished and not his princely crown?

  She jumped up from the sofa. “Come on, let’s go into the kitchen and get some sodas and get ready for our pizza.” She didn’t want to think about Caleb anymore. She didn’t want to think about how much she’d wanted him the night before, how much that want still sizzled inside her.

  Once they were in the kitchen Layla sat at the table and Portia pulled out plates and got their drinks. They talked about their work in the day care the next day, Layla’s lack of real-estate sales and the fact that she might have to consider a new career path because of the current economic times.

  “What would you like to do if you don’t work in real estate?” Portia asked.

  Layla paused a long moment. “I know it sounds totally out of character for me, but what I’d really like is to be somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother. I’d like a couple of years of being a stay-at-home wife and mother and building a home and then when the kids went to school I’d decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.” She flashed Portia a grin. “Lame, huh?”

  “Not lame at all,” Portia replied with a new burst of warmth for her friend, “although maybe a little politically unpopular nowadays.”

  “I’ve never been one for following the politically correct path,” Layla replied. “You know I had a giant crush on Jacob Grayson when I was young.”

  “Really?” Portia replied in surprise. “He was definitely nice looking but he always seemed kind of scary to me.”

  Layla grinned. “Your scary, my sexy.”

  “That should be the pizza,” Portia said when the doorbell rang. She hurried to the door and threw it open and gasped as she saw the tall blond man standing on her porch. “Joe!” she said in surprise as a tiny edge of fear sprang to life. “What are you doing here?”

  Joe Castle was a handsome man with piercing blue eyes, blond hair and a tanned, weathered face. At the moment his eyes were cold and hard and his mouth was a thin slash of displeasure as he glared at her. “Do you have a problem with me?” he asked.

  Portia held tight to the edge of the door, unsure what Joe might be capable of. “Of course not,” she replied.

  “Then why do I have Caleb Grayson on my ass?”

  Portia breathed a small sigh of relief as Layla stepped up next to her. “Hi, Joe,” Layla said. “What’s going on?”

  “I just want Portia to know that I had nothing to do with what’s happening to her. I’d never hurt a woman and I’m definitely not into vandalism.”

  “Joe, I’m sorry if all this has made you uncomfortable, but Caleb has to investigate and the first thing he asked me was who had been in my life lately. I had to tell him we’d dated and unfortunately that put you on his potential-suspect list,” Portia said. “I never even considered it might be you,” she added. It was a fib, but one that instantly dispelled some of the tension in Joe.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied gruffly. “We dated long enough that you should know what kind of man I am, and I’m not a woman abuser.”

  At that moment the pizza-delivery car pulled up to the curb and a young boy got out carrying a carton. “Looks like you’re getting ready to eat. I just wanted to tell you to your face that I had nothing to do with all this.” Joe didn’t wait for a response but instead turned on his boot heels and strode back to his car.

  Portia paid for the pizza and the two women returned to the kitchen. “You think he really came here to apologize?” Layla asked as she grabbed a slice of the gooey pizza and put it on her plate.

  “Why else would he have come?” Portia asked.

  Layla shrugged her slender shoulders. “Maybe for attack number four?”

  “That’s ridiculous. Surely he saw your car in the driveway and knew I wasn’t here all alone.”

  “Maybe he thought the car in your driveway was a rental since yours is in the shop,” Layla countered.

  Portia took a bite of her pizza and frowned. Surely Joe didn’t feel that kind of rage against her just because she’d decided they weren’t right for each other.

  The news is filled with stories of women being murdered because of unrequited love, a little voice whispered inside her head. “I just can’t believe this is all happening,” she finally said. “I keep thinking this is a nightmare and eventually I’m going to wake up.”

  “If it is a nightmare I don’t appreciate you involving me in your bad dreams,” Layla said, making Portia grin.

  For the remainder of the meal the two indulged in a little gossip. They placed bets on when Tom Grayson and Peyton would get married, how long i
t might be before Walt Tolliver needed to be committed and Layla’s penchant for bad boys.

  “I think Benjamin Grayson is pretty hot,” she said, “but he’s just too nice for me.”

  Portia thought about Caleb’s brother. Like all of the Grayson men, Benjamin was definitely a hunk but he was also the most easygoing and good-natured of all the brothers. Layla was right, she was far too tempestuous for a man like Benjamin. She’d eat him up and spit him out.

  “Benjamin doesn’t date much. If fact, I can’t think of anyone he’s dated,” Portia said thoughtfully.

  Layla tore a piece of crust in half and popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I can’t think of anyone he’s dated, either,” she finally added. “I wonder what happened to Jacob? I haven’t heard anything about him in years.”

  “Who knows? Maybe we are both meant to be old maids with lots of cats and only memories of our old boyfriends to keep us warm,” Portia said.

  “Mr. Whiskers is my baby, but he’s no substitute for a man. Besides, I don’t know about me, but I definitely know you’re meant to get married and have a dozen babies. That’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

  A faint depression settled over Portia’s shoulders. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d always wanted—and that’s what Caleb had once promised her, love and family.

  “Sometimes I wonder how different my life would have been if I hadn’t broken up with Caleb when I was in college,” she said.

  Layla reached for another piece of pizza. “Maybe not so different, except that you’d be watching your own kids along with everyone else’s.”

  “I sometimes wonder if I was wrong to listen to gossip instead of listening to Caleb.”

  “Possibly,” Layla replied easily. “There were a lot of girls who were jealous of you in high school. Caleb was one of the hottest guys in the school and you had him wrapped around your little finger from your sophomore year on. Lots of girls would have loved to see the two of you break up so they could have a chance with him. But it’s all water under the bridge now, right?”

  “Right.” Portia frowned thoughtfully. “But I have to confess that I have just a little bit of regret inside me.”

  “Regret is kind of a wasted emotion unless it brings some sort of lesson with it,” Layla replied. “Of course it would be nice if we could go back and fix all the things we regret.”

  Portia thought of the hardness she’d seen in Caleb’s eyes that morning. Was she partially responsible for that faint edge of anger she occasionally saw in the depths of his eyes?

  She didn’t know, but what she suspected was there was no way to fix what had gone wrong between them, no way to reclaim the magic that they had had before. Besides, he’d made it clear that he was only interested in having sex with her again, not in having a real, meaningful relationship.

  They finished eating and moved into the living room for more girl talk. The phone rang at eight-thirty. It was Caleb checking in to make sure they were okay.

  The sound of his deep voice caused a whisper of a shiver inside her, a shiver of the sweet desire she’d felt for him the night before. She assured him they were fine, that Layla was staying with her for the rest of the week and the call ended.

  “I know I have a reputation as a party girl, but all that painting and moving furniture wore me slick,” Layla said as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

  “I’m pooped, too,” Portia admitted, although she thought her exhaustion came more from too many thoughts about Caleb than from the physical work she’d accomplished that day.

  “You aren’t going to get me up at the crack of dawn, are you?” Layla asked as the two headed down the hallway to the bedrooms. “You know how much I need my beauty sleep.”

  “I promise I won’t wake you too early,” Portia replied as she turned on the light in the guest bedroom. She gave Layla a grateful hug. “Thanks.”

  “For what?” Layla asked.

  “For being here. For being my friend.”

  Layla grinned. “I have to be your friend, you know all my secrets.”

  Portia laughed and released her. “You know where everything is, but if you need something you can’t find just let me know.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Layla assured her. The two said good night and Portia headed for her bedroom at the end of the hallway.

  Like Layla, she was exhausted. Her arm muscles and back ached from the strain of wielding a paint roller, and a hot shower sounded like heaven at the moment.

  Minutes later as she stood beneath the spray of hot water, she thought of the work they’d accomplished that day. The yellow paint had easily covered the drab beige that had been on the walls and when finished would give the area a cheerful atmosphere that the children would enjoy.

  She’d called Melody that morning to check on how the children were doing at her house. Melody assured her everything was fine but the kids missed Ms. Portia.

  While she couldn’t put her life on hold forever, she explained to Melody that she just didn’t want to take a chance being around the kids until this matter was resolved. She would die if one of the children got hurt or worse because some nut was after her.

  When would she know if it was safe to have the children back where they belonged? When would she be safe to resume her normal day-to-day activities?

  Maybe she and Caleb had overreacted to everything that had happened. Sure, it was obvious that somebody was mad at her, somebody didn’t like her, but maybe that bump on her car had been the last gasp of somebody’s ire.

  Finished with her shower, she pulled on her nightgown and got into bed with only the lamp on her nightstand aglow. There was no other sound in the house so she knew Layla was also in bed.

  Warmth filled her heart as she thought of her friend. When she’d called Layla and asked her to stay with her for a couple of days, Layla hadn’t hesitated. Within an hour she’d arrived with a suitcase and a smile, ready to support Portia in whatever she needed.

  Portia wished Layla would find a man who would love her to distraction, a man who could manage her volatile nature, who would see beyond her flaws and find the gold inside.

  With a deep sigh Portia reached out and turned off her lamp. The room was plunged into darkness with just the faint cast of the moon spilling in through the window.

  She thought that it would take her forever to fall asleep, but almost immediately she not only slept, but dreamed. And in her dream it was prom night and she was in the motel room with Caleb.

  Her stomach was knotted with a delicious tension as she saw the rose petals on the bed, saw the desire that flamed hot and wild in Caleb’s eyes. This was it—in the next few minutes she would give her virginity to the man she loved.

  Although she was nervous, she wasn’t afraid. She knew Caleb would be gentle, that he would take good care of the gift she was about to give to him. She knew this was the right thing to do, what she wanted to do more than anything else.

  As he gathered her into his arms, her heart tap-danced a quick rhythm of desire. And when his mouth claimed hers, hot and greedy, she returned the kiss with fervor.

  The kiss chased away any lingering doubt that might have entered her mind. He had her heart and now it was finally time to give him the whole of her body.

  They fell to the bed where the scent of roses filled her head and his mouth found the spot behind her ear that always made her gasp with pleasure.

  “I love you, Portia. I’ll always love you,” he whispered into her ear.

  His words made her heart sing. “I love you, too. Forever and always,” she replied.

  “I promise you that there will never be another girl for me. I’ll love you until the day I die.” His voice trembled with emotion.

  His arms wrapped around her and his fingers found the top of the zipper that ran down the length of the back of the royal-blue prom dress. The sound of the zipper hissing downward shot shivers of anticipation down her spine. However, as the sound continued on…and on…a niggl
e of anxiety weighed in her chest.

  It shouldn’t be taking so long to unzip the dress and yet that faint hissing sound continued. When it finally stopped she snapped awake and her heart thundered in her chest in a fight-or-flight response she didn’t understand.

  She lay for a long moment, eyes closed and every muscle in her body inexplicably tensed. What about the dream had created such an intense sense of unease? A sense of danger?

  She cracked open her eyes and in an instant her mind took in two things. The first was the screen at the window that had been cut and hung askew. That was the sound she’d heard. The second thing she saw was the dark shadow that rushed at her.

  Before she had a chance to scream the figure was on top of her with strong hands wrapped around her throat. Portia could tell that the hands were covered by latex gloves, the cool plastic chilling her to the bone.

  She struggled, but found herself trapped by the sheet covering her. Frantic, she tried to escape the cotton cocoon but couldn’t get loose.

  The hands around Portia’s neck squeezed tighter and fingers tore into her skin as panic screamed inside her. She thrashed her arms and legs in an effort to get free, to be able to fight back.

  She couldn’t tell anything about her attacker other than the fact that the face was covered with a ski mask and there was almost inhuman strength in the hands at her throat. She saw the glitter of eyes, but couldn’t discern the color in the darkness of the room.

  The attacker didn’t say a word but emitted raspy, rapid breathing as those hands continued to strangle Portia. She wished for a voice, something she could hear that would identify the person.

  Tears blinded her as she realized if she didn’t do something she was going to die right here in her bedroom with Layla only a room and a scream away.

  She couldn’t breathe and a new darkness was closing in all around her as the fingers pressed tighter and tighter into her throat. Tiny stars exploded in her head as her brain begged for oxygen.

  Finally she managed to get an arm free from the sheet and she swung it hard at the side of the head of the attacker. The hands around Portia’s throat slipped slightly and she drew in a deep breath as she struck once again with her fist.