The Lawman’s Nanny Op Read online

  He reached up and touched a strand of her hair. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

  For a moment they simply looked at each other and Portia felt the past rising up between them. A mix of emotions cascaded through her. A snapping electricity combined with a heady rush of desire and mingled with a bittersweet pain.

  His eyes darkened and softened and as he stepped closer to her she knew with a woman’s instinct that he intended to kiss her.

  Her brain told her to step back, to stop it from happening, but her feet remained frozen in place and as he leaned down to taste her lips, she raised her head to receive the kiss.

  Hot and half-wild, that’s how she remembered his kisses, and this one was no different. His lips were soft and yet commanding, but as he raised his arms to embrace her, she broke the kiss and took a step back from him, angry that he would try to kiss her, even angrier that she’d let him.

  “That was stupid,” she exclaimed.

  He grinned, the boyish smile she’d once loved to see. “Maybe,” he agreed. “But sometimes stupid tastes good. Good night, Portia.”

  As he stepped out on the porch she slammed her door and locked it behind him, angry that he could still make her want him after all these years.

  She was right. It had been stupid to kiss her, but she’d looked so damned kissable in that sexy green robe that allowed the tops of her creamy breasts to peek out and displayed her gorgeous legs.

  He got into his car and gripped the steering wheel with both hands to allow the wave of desire that gripped him to slowly ebb away.

  When he felt more in control, he started his car and pulled out of her driveway. He’d spent much of his day not only trying to find out who had broken into her day care, but also asking questions about Portia, trying to get a feel for the woman she’d become.

  Loving. Generous and kind: those were words that had been used again and again to describe her. So why hadn’t she married and started a family of her own?

  Yes, it had been foolish to kiss her, but he’d wanted to taste her mouth, see if she still had the capacity to stir him. The answer was a definitive yes.

  But years ago he hadn’t been enough for her. She hadn’t trusted him, hadn’t trusted in his love, and there was nothing to indicate that another round with Portia would have different results.

  He wouldn’t put his heart on the line with her again, but he definitely wouldn’t mind laying her down in a bed of fresh, scented sheets and making love to her until they were both gasping and sated.

  She’d allowed him the kiss, but he had a feeling there was no way she’d be agreeable to a night of wild, mindless sex.

  She’d thought he’d cheated on her when she’d been out of town and then again when she’d left for college. She’d allowed rumors and innuendoes to crack them apart. It hadn’t mattered that he’d proclaimed his innocence loud and long; ultimately she hadn’t believed him.

  He’d never quite been able to forgive her for that, and that betrayal from her, coupled with the killer blow that Laura had delivered to him, made him wary of attempting any serious relationship ever again.

  As he entered his small house, the first thing he thought about was how gray and dismal his surroundings appeared compared to the rich, bold colors of Portia’s living room.

  Her living room had been filled with life, as if a burst of laughter was ready to resound within the walls. He threw his keys on the coffee table and sank down on the gray sofa.

  Gray. That was how he’d felt lately, as if he were just going through the motions of life without any real emotion or joy.

  Over the last month he’d watched his oldest brother Tom find love with a beautiful woman and her infant daughter, and Caleb had been surprised by the yearning his brother’s happiness had pulled forth in him.

  With a grunt of dissatisfaction, he pulled himself off the sofa and went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.

  He popped the tab and took a long swallow as he eased down into a chair at the kitchen table. As always when he had a quiet moment to himself, thoughts of his sister jumped into his mind.

  “Brittany, where are you?” he muttered aloud.

  He knew with gut instinct that she was in trouble, although he refused to believe she might be dead. A missing persons report had gone out to all the news outlets in a four-state area and the brothers had checked her house for any signs of foul play, but there had been none. They had conducted search parties for days that had yielded nothing. The worst part was not knowing what happened and not knowing where to begin to look for her.

  With a sigh he took another sip of his beer. His cell phone rang and caller ID let him know it was his brother Benjamin. “Hey, bro, what’s up?”

  “Tom wants us to meet him at the Miller place as soon as possible,” Benjamin said.

  “The Miller place?” Caleb said in surprise. “Why?”

  The Miller place was an abandoned farmhouse on the north edge of town. It had been a foreclosure that had been for sale for a couple of years.

  “He said Layla was showing the place to some out-of-towner and called him a few minutes ago to tell him there’s a vehicle parked in the old barn. That’s all I know, but Tom wants us there.”

  “Be there in ten,” Caleb said and clicked off.

  Caleb set the beer on the table, grabbed his car keys and headed out. It wasn’t unusual for the Grayson men to act as backup for each other when something came up that didn’t sound right.

  Tom was a cautious man, which was one of his strengths as sheriff. Caleb, on the other hand, had a tendency to be impatient. He knew it was a fault of his, one that he’d have to work on to become the kind of deputy he wanted to be.

  Even though it was almost eight in the evening when he pulled down the dirt lane that led to the Miller place, the sun was still warm and bright, although lowering in the western sky.

  Tom’s car was already parked in front of the house, along with a car he recognized as belonging to Layla West, Black Rock’s most aggressive real-estate agent and Portia’s best friend since high school.

  “What’s going on?” Caleb asked as he approached where the two of them stood in the front yard.

  “Layla was just about to tell me,” Tom said.

  “I had an out-of-town client, and I brought him here on Saturday to look at the house. Today he wanted to come back and check out all the outbuildings.” Layla pointed to the barn in the distance. “We went into the barn and in the back of it, underneath some blankets, is a car.”

  “What kind of a car?” Caleb asked.

  “I’m not sure. It freaked me out and I got my client out of the barn and called Tom.” She looked at Caleb’s brother. “Nobody should be parked in there, Tom. This property belongs to the bank and it definitely wasn’t there when I showed this place a couple of months ago.”

  At that moment Benjamin pulled up and Tom quickly filled him in on what had occurred. “You go on home, Layla,” he said. “We’ll let you know what’s going on when we know something.”

  It was obvious she would have preferred to linger and find out the scoop. “Come on, Layla, I’ll walk you to your car,” Caleb said. Tom shot him a grateful smile.

  “Portia told me about the break-in,” she said as they walked across the tall grass. “Are you going to find out who did it?”

  “I’m doing my best,” Caleb replied.

  “You need to do better than your best,” Layla said with a touch of censure.

  Caleb opened the driver’s side door of her car.

  “We’ll figure out who’s bothering Portia, but in the meantime we need to figure out what’s going on here.”

  “Be sure and let me know,” she said as she slid into the driver’s seat. “And be nice to Portia,” she added as she started the engine with a roar.

  Caleb didn’t wait to watch her drive away, but rather turned and hurried back to Tom and Benjamin. “Shall we check it out?”

  Tom nodded and the three brothers walk
ed side by side to the barn. “I haven’t received any reports of stolen vehicles,” Tom said as he pulled open the doors.

  “Maybe somebody just didn’t want to pay to have it hauled away,” Benjamin said.

  “Or it’s being hidden from creditors,” Caleb added. “Nobody likes the repo man.”

  They found the car in the very back of the barn, and just as Layla had said, it was covered with old blankets. Only the grill was showing and the sight of it sent a chill through Caleb.

  As Tom and Benjamin yanked the blankets off, the chill deepened. Brittany’s car. For a moment none of them said a word.

  It was Benjamin who broke the silence. “I’ll go get some gloves,” he said and hurried out of the barn.

  Caleb peered into the driver’s window, careful not to touch the side of the car. “Her keys are in the ignition, but I don’t see her purse anywhere.”

  Caleb felt sick and one look at Tom let him know his brother felt the same way. Tom’s face was pale and his jaw clenched tightly.

  There was no way to believe there wasn’t foul play involved. Brittany wouldn’t hide her car and just walk off with somebody.

  Caleb’s gaze lingered on the closed trunk and a rising fear thickened in the back of his throat. As Benjamin came back into the barn, half out of breath from running, he handed each of them a pair of latex gloves.

  Caleb pulled his on and opened the driver’s side door. Carefully he leaned in and pulled the keys from the ignition.

  His feet felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds apiece as he walked to the back of the car. Benjamin and Tom joined him there as he carefully put the key into the trunk lock.

  For a moment it was as if the entire universe held its breath. He could smell the fear in the air. Caleb twisted the key and the trunk lid popped open.

  He nearly fell to his knees in relief.

  It was empty.

  “I’ll call the men,” Tom said, his voice deeper than usual. “We need to process this car and see if we can find anything that will let us know what’s happened to Brittany.”

  None of them spoke of the fact that it might be too late, that if the car had been hidden here right after Brittany disappeared, then it had been five weeks since anyone had seen their sister alive.

  Chapter 3

  At ten the next morning Portia was back in town to buy paint. She hadn’t slept well. Every creak and groan of the house had put her on edge, but thankfully the night had passed without further incident.

  It was Ed Chany in the hardware store that told her about Brittany’s car being found at the Miller place. Her heart ached for what all the Graysons must be going through.

  Portia knew what it was like to have somebody disappear from your life, to wonder where they had gone and if they were still alive. Her father had walked out on Portia and her mother when she’d been twelve and for years she’d wondered where he’d gone, what he was doing and if he were still alive.

  She’d never tried to find him, had believed that if he had wanted a relationship with her, he would have contacted her.

  She hoped there was a logical explanation for Brittany’s disappearance, but the fact that they’d found her car hidden in a barn at the Miller place certainly didn’t promise a happy ending.

  She’d just loaded the cans of paint into the trunk of her car when she heard Caleb call her name. As he hurried toward her she couldn’t help but notice the shine of the sun in his rich, dark brown hair, how he walked with a confident stride that was instantly appealing.

  “Caleb, I heard about Brittany’s car. I’m so sorry,” she said when he stood just in front of her.

  His eyes darkened and he nodded. “Thanks. We’re doing what we can to find her, but so far all the leads go nowhere.”

  Portia fought the impulse to reach out and take his hand, to offer comfort to the man she’d once loved with all her heart and soul. “Hopefully she’ll turn up safe and sound,” she replied.

  “We can only hope. Tom is still out at the Miller place conducting a search but he sent me back here to hold down the fort with Sam.” An edge of frustration tinged his voice and she knew he’d rather be out actively involved in the search than on duty in town. “And speaking of Sam,” he continued, “he thought he saw somebody this morning who might be behind the trouble you’re having,” he said.

  “Who?” she asked curiously.

  “Dale Stemple.”

  The name blew a cold wind through her. “Oh, my God, I hadn’t even thought about him.” She frowned. “But isn’t he in prison?”

  “After Sam told me he thought he’d seen him drive by I did some checking. He was released from prison two weeks ago.”

  “What about Rita? Where is she?” The sun overhead seemed less bright, less warming as Portia thought of the couple she’d turned in to Child Protective Services two years before.

  “Who knows? The minute Dale was arrested she left the area. I imagine Rita has probably remarried. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would be okay on her own.”

  Portia nodded and had a hard time summoning up a vision of Rita Stemple in her mind. The woman had been thin and mousy and had rarely been seen in town.

  “I just wanted to give you a heads-up that he’d been released and might have come back into town to give you some grief. I’m going to try to find out where he is, but you need to keep an eye out, too.”

  “Thanks, Caleb. I can’t believe he didn’t even cross my mind. I guess because I just assumed he was still in jail. You’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “Of course.”

  “And I hope Tom and the others find out something about Brittany.”

  His eyes darkened with pain and his shoulders slumped forward. “Thanks. Me, too.” He straightened and drew a deep breath and then glanced into her trunk. “Planning a little work, I see.”

  “I decided with the children at Melody’s for the time being, it was a good time for me to do a little redecorating in the day care.”

  “So you’ll be home all day?” he asked.

  “Off and on. I’m planning on stopping by Melody’s on my way home to see the kids, then I’ll be home until this evening. Tuesdays I always have dinner with my mother. But, if you find out something and need to get hold of me, let me give you my cell phone number.”

  He wrote the number on a small notepad and then shut her trunk for her. “There’s no reason to believe that you’re in any imminent danger,” he said. “No threats have been made on you and it’s possible it wasn’t Dale that Sam saw. Sam said he just got a quick glance at the driver. I just wanted you to know that I’m on top of it and you need to be aware.”

  “Thank you, Caleb. I appreciate it, especially with you having Brittany’s disappearance on your plate.”

  He smiled, although the gesture didn’t reach the brown depths of his eyes. “At the moment Tom is working Brittany’s disappearance and I’m doing everything possible to fix your world. Besides, I’m afraid if I don’t you’ll sic Layla on me.”

  She laughed, and it felt good. “Layla is a good friend.”

  “She’s like an attack pit bull when it comes to you,” he replied. He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know about Dale. I’ll be in touch if I find out anything else.”

  “Thanks, Caleb.”

  She watched him walk back toward the sheriff’s office and couldn’t help but notice that he looked as good going as he had coming.

  As she got into her car she told herself that the tingly feeling she got whenever he was near was nothing more than an old memory playing itself out in her mind.

  Did anyone ever really forget their first real love? Their first sexual awakening? Did the memory of that person always evoke the kind of yearning, the kind of electric sizzle that Caleb still managed to pull from her?

  They’d both moved on. She knew he dated often and so did she, although no man had ever been as important to her as Caleb had once been.

  She di
smissed thoughts of him as she pulled away from the curb and headed home. Instead her head filled with thoughts of the Stemples. Dale and Rita had had two children, a three-year-old little boy named Danny and a four-year-old little girl named Diane.

  The two children had only been in Portia’s care for two days when she saw the signs of abuse. There had been bruises on Diane’s forearm in the distinctive pattern of fingers and when Danny had called for her help in the bathroom on the second day, Portia had seen that his bottom was not only marked with lines from a belt, but also scabbed over in several places.

  She’d immediately called Child Protective Services and a woman had shown up at the day care and had taken the children into custody. Portia had never seen Dale or Rita again.

  She’d heard through the grapevine that Dale had been arrested for threatening a social worker and for keeping illegal guns in his house. Rita had left town and Portia had put the whole incident out of her mind except for occasionally wondering what had happened to Danny and Diane.

  There had been some speculation that Dale’s parents might step in and request custody, but at the time Dale’s mother had been battling cancer and so the children had disappeared into the foster care system.

  After a visit to Melody’s where she got enough hugs and kisses to last for the day, she drove home. She unloaded the paint into the day care and then went into the house for lunch. Her plan was to spend the afternoon moving everything into the center of the room to prepare for painting the next day.

  She supposed she was probably overreacting to the break-in by moving the children to Melody’s, but she’d rather err on the side of caution where their safety was concerned.

  Besides, she’d been wanting to repaint the interior of the day care for months and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to get it done.

  When she left her house to return to the day-care facility, she carried with her a knife from the kitchen drawer and her cell phone. She felt slightly foolish with the knife in her hand and wasn’t even sure she could use it on anyone, even to protect herself. But she was reluctant to be there with no weapon at all while she worked.