LAST SEEN... Read online

  "I'm worried about Alyssa," she finally said, watching as Maggie hopscotched ahead of them.

  "What about her?" he asked.

  She frowned, wondering how much to say, how foolish it might be to trust him given Alyssa's words of caution. But, no matter what her head said, her heart told her he was a man who could be trusted.

  "Alyssa is special … or cursed, depending on what school of thought you come from."

  "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

  They walked slowly as night fell, casting shadows outside of the pools of light created by the streetlamps they passed.

  "Alyssa has suffered visions since she was a small child."

  "You mean like psychic stuff?" Even in the darkening of night she could see his eyes holding a hint of incredulity.

  "You can believe it or not, but I can tell you that it's very real," she said defensively.

  "I have an open mind when it comes to the possibility of such things," he replied. "Is that what happened at the barbecue the day I met her?"

  "Yes. Usually immediately after having a vision she falls unconscious for several minutes." They turned onto the street where their houses were mid-block.

  "Did she have some sort of vision about me?" he asked.

  She shot him a quick sideways look. He almost sounded guilty. "Why do you ask? Do you have something to hide?"

  He laughed, but she thought it sounded rather forced. "Only the usual human weaknesses. I just figured if Alyssa had a vision of my unexpected demise, then I should know so I can get my things in order."

  Maybe I'm reading too much into Alyssa's warning and seeing boogeymen where there are none, Breanna thought to herself. "Actually, Alyssa did warn me to be careful. She isn't getting any specific visions, but she has some bad feelings."

  "About you and Maggie?" All laughter was gone from his voice.

  "She isn't sure who or what it's about. Maggie … slow down," she exclaimed.

  "Does she get these bad feelings often?"

  Breanna sighed and fought against a wave of anxiety that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. "The last time she had these kinds of bad feelings, my brother-in-law crashed his car through the guard rail of the Sequoia Bridge. He drowned in the Cherokee River."

  "You don't think her bad feelings now have anything to do with the phone calls you've been receiving, do you?" He placed a hand on her arm and they stopped in place. His eyes held her gaze intently. "What did you find out about Michael Rivers?"

  A blood-curdling scream rent the air.

  "Maggie!" The scream ripped through Breanna's heart as she ran toward the house.

  Maggie stood on the sidewalk and pointed to the big oak tree, her eyes huge and her lower lip trembling. "Look, Mommy."

  Hanging from the branches was a pink plastic cradle. On the branch just beneath it, strung by a noose around his neck, hung Mr. Bear.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  «^»

  Instinctively Adam scooped Maggie up into his arms and pressed her head against his neck in an attempt to shield her from the sight of her beloved stuffed bear.

  "Rachel," Breanna whispered softly and ran to the front door. Adam watched as she fumbled in her purse for her keys and her gun.

  A wave of helpless frustration raked through him as he fought his desire to grab the gun from Breanna and go inside. He wanted to protect her from whatever horror or danger that might be in the house.

  Maggie wept against his neck. He patted her back, his gaze intent on the front door as he willed Breanna to reappear unharmed.

  When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all. The words from the old standard lullaby played and replayed through his head.

  He glanced back at the tree with its gruesome ornamentation. It took a sick mind to do something like that … a twisted, sick mind.

  Relief flooded through him as Breanna stepped out onto the porch. "She's not here and it doesn't look like anything has been disturbed inside."

  "Mommy, can we get Mr. Bear down?" Maggie asked as she raised her tear-streaked face. "He doesn't like it up there."

  "We can't take him down right now, honey. We're going to let Uncle Clay look at him first," Breanna said. Adam noticed she'd brought a cordless phone with her out of the house.

  "Besides," Adam said, "maybe Mr. Bear was up in that tree looking for a bee's nest filled with honey."

  "Bears like honey," Maggie said softly. Her lower lip trembled ominously. "But, Mr. Bear is so scared."

  Adam sat down on the porch and cuddled her on his lap as Breanna sat next to him and began to make phone calls.

  She called Rachel's cell phone first and reassured herself that Rachel was really okay. Apparently the young woman had left the house with friends soon after the three of them had left.

  Breanna then called her brother, Clay, and her sister, Savannah. By the time she'd finished making her calls, Maggie had fallen asleep in Adam's arms.

  "Want me to take her?" Breanna asked.

  "No, she's fine," he replied. He'd never held a sleeping child in his arms before and the utter trust that Maggie had displayed in him by allowing herself to fall asleep touched him. Besides, he enjoyed the sweet smell of her, the snuggly warmth of her little body against his.

  "I don't want to take her up to her room until Clay has a chance to look things over. When we left here to get ice cream, Mr. Bear was on Maggie's bed."

  "So somebody got into your house." A rush of anger filled Adam.

  "The back door lock is broken," she replied.

  "Why don't you have an alarm system?" Adam asked. "I would think as a cop you'd have one."

  She sighed. "This is a small town, Adam. I only know a handful of people who have alarm systems. I've never had a problem, never felt afraid…" Her voice trailed off.

  He wondered if she'd been able to say "until now."

  For a few moments they sat silent, the surrounding night silent as well, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what might come next.

  "What did you find out about Michael Rivers?" he asked.

  "I spoke to his parole officer and got his address. The parole officer said he's doing quite well, has a full-time job and is keeping his appointments. He's even gone through an anger management program."

  "But that doesn't mean he isn't trying to terrify Rachel," Adam said.

  "No, it doesn't. I had planned on getting my partner to drive to Sycamore Ridge with me tomorrow to meet with the parole officer and talk to Michael, but apparently Abe is out of town."

  Before Adam could reply, a car roared down the street and into Breanna's driveway. Rita was out the passenger door and on the porch before Thomas had shut off the engine.

  "Savannah called and explained everything," she said as Adam and Breanna stood. "We thought we'd come and take Maggie home with us." Rita looked at the tree, then turned back to them, her dark eyes glittering in the silvery moonlight. "Perhaps it is Raven Mocker come to take a life."

  "Don't start with Indian ghost stories," Thomas said to his wife as he held out his arms to take the sleeping Maggie from Adam. He looked at Breanna. "We'll keep her with us for a couple of days. I put in a call to Glen and told him to get the guys on the force on this."

  "Dad, you didn't need to call the chief," Breanna protested. At that moment another car and a van sped down the street toward them.

  "We'll get this little one out of here," Thomas said. "Call us in the morning." He and Rita went back to their car as Savannah and Clay arrived on the scene.

  Clay said nothing, but immediately pulled out a pad and a pen and gazed up at the tree. Savannah walked over to where Adam and Breanna stood. She gave her sister a kiss on the cheek, then offered a small smile to Adam. "Nothing like a little excitement to top off an evening, right?"

  "I could live with a little less excitement," Adam replied.

  They all turned as a patrol car pulled up against the curb. A big, burly man stepped out
of the driver door and a second officer got out of the passenger side. Adam instantly felt Breanna's tension level rise.

  "That's Chief Glen Cleberg," she said softly as she left the porch to greet her boss.

  "What have we got here?" Cleberg's voice was like a boom of thunder in the otherwise silent night. He placed his meaty hands on his hips and stared up at the tree, then eyed Breanna with dark, beady eyes. "Looks like you've managed to stir up somebody."

  In that single instant, Adam decided he didn't much like the chief of police. He joined Breanna, fighting a sudden impulse to throw his arm around her shoulder in a show of solidarity.

  "I can't imagine what I would have done to instigate this," Breanna replied.

  Cleberg grunted.

  Adam decided to step into the conversation. "Adam Spencer," he said and held out his hand to the chief. "I'm staying in the cottage next door."

  "Haven't seen you around town," Cleberg said as he gave Adam's hand a firm shake.

  "I've only been here a couple of days," Adam replied.

  "Adam's an artist. He's staying here for a while to soak up some of the Native American culture," Breanna explained.

  Glen frowned, the gesture creating a deep furrow in his broad brow. "Hope you don't think this kind of nonsense is normal in our town."

  "Not at all. From what I've seen, Cherokee Corners is a charming place."

  Glen grunted again, this time a grunt that implied satisfaction. He looked at Breanna once more. "You want to tell me about this?"

  Adam remained silent as Breanna explained about the phone calls, the incident with the peeper and her suspicions that it might be Michael Rivers trying to terrorize Rachel.

  "I thought he was in prison," Glen said.

  "He's been out for a month. He's living in Sycamore Ridge," Breanna replied.

  "That little punk better not be coming into my town and pulling any stunts." Glen drew a deep breath and looked back at the tree, where Clay had finished taking pictures and was in the process of climbing up to remove the items from the branches.

  He looked back at Breanna. "You know there's not a lot we can do about a couple of phone calls and a Peeping Tom that nobody got a good look at."

  "What about this?" Adam gestured to the tree.

  Glen shrugged. "I suppose we could arrest whoever did it on a trespass charge, maybe stretch it to vandalism, but I got to tell you, we don't really have the manpower to follow up on this." He raked a big hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "The town has grown faster than our police department, and unfortunately more people means more crime."

  "I know how understaffed we are," Breanna said. "I hadn't intended to bother you with this. Dad shouldn't have called you."

  "He was right to call me. I need to know what's going on with my officers."

  "Whoever did this got into Breanna's house," Adam told the chief. "She said the back door lock has been broken."

  "Why in the hell didn't you tell me that to begin with," he replied with more than a touch of irritation. "Savannah… Joseph, get inside and clear the house. The perp was inside at some point."

  "I already checked the house," Breanna said.

  Cleberg frowned. "Maybe you missed him. Maybe we'll get lucky and he's still in there. I'm in the mood for an arrest tonight."

  Breanna's sister and the officer who had arrived with Chief Cleberg drew their weapons and entered the front door. By this time Clay had retrieved the items from the tree and had placed them in paper bags. He drew off his gloves and joined them.

  "I might be able to pull off some fingerprints on the plastic of the cradle and if I'm lucky maybe some fiber evidence or something off Mr. Bear," he said.

  Breanna frowned. "Be careful with Mr. Bear. Maggie will be devastated to learn that he's not here."

  Clay nodded. "There doesn't seem to be any footprint impressions around the base of the tree. The ground is too dry and the grass too thick." He held up the two paper bags. "I'm going to put these in my van, then try to lift some prints around the back door lock."

  "Looks like you Jameses have this scene under control. When Joseph finishes up, we'll be on our way. Make sure you write up a report on this," Cleberg said to Breanna.

  A few minutes later as Joseph and the chief were leaving, Rachel arrived home. Adam watched as Breanna hugged her.

  "Go pack a bag," Breanna instructed her. "I don't want you staying here for the next couple of days until we can sort this all out."

  Savannah walked up and grabbed Rachel by the arm. "You can stay with me, Rachel. I've got plenty of room and would enjoy your company."

  Rachel looked shell-shocked as Savannah led her into the house to pack her things. It didn't take them long, then together they left.

  Adam and Breanna went into the house where Clay was just finishing up dusting the back door. "A lot of smudges," he said, "and not a single clear print or partial. I'm ready to take a look at Maggie's room."

  Adam followed brother and sister through the living room and up the stairs to Maggie's room. Adam glanced across the hall and into the room he suspected was Breanna's.

  Decorated in earth tones with splashes of sky blue accents, the room emanated peace and serenity. The bed was rumpled and unmade and a vision flashed in Adam's mind … a vision of a doe-eyed Breanna, her body warm and supple with slumber.

  He yanked his gaze away from the room, afraid his visions would careen out of control. Instead he turned and watched as Clay examined the room with the eyes of an expert crime scene investigator.

  Adam found himself entranced by the childhood magic that surrounded him. This was a place of innocence, of sweet dreams and fairy tales. It smelled of Maggie, that curious blend of peaches and sunshine.

  But Adam knew better than to be fooled by the aura of innocence. Children were like ticking time bombs, just waiting for the trigger that would detonate a heartful of sorrow for their parents.

  He'd just about decided while they were having ice cream to tell Breanna who he was and why he was here. He'd also made the decision to call his aunt and uncle and tell them about Maggie. But this changed everything. He wasn't going to do anything until they got to the bottom of who was tormenting Breanna. Until this mess was cleared up, he intended to go nowhere and tell nobody anything.

  Clay spent several moments just looking around the room, then turned to Breanna. "Are you certain Mr. Bear was in here before you left the house?"

  Breanna frowned and raked a hand through her long, shiny hair. "I thought so … but now I'm not so sure."

  "Is it possible she left him outside after she played house earlier?" Adam asked.

  "I don't know … I guess it's possible," she admitted hesitantly.

  "Bree, I don't want to tear up this room looking for evidence of an intruder, given the fact that nobody has been hurt and you believe this all has to do with Rachel," Clay said.

  "I don't want you to tear up the room," she replied. "It would upset Maggie, but it would definitely upset the chief if you use the lab for something like this."

  "I'll dust the cradle for fingerprints and let you know what I find. There isn't much else I can do here."

  The three of them left the bedroom and went back downstairs to the front door. Clay leaned over and kissed his sister on her forehead, nodded to Adam, then left.

  "A man of few words," Adam observed.

  She nodded. "Clay has always been the silent type. Mom worries about him because he has no life outside of his work."

  "It must be fascinating work."

  "He keeps busy. He's only one of three crime scene investigators." She looked around in distraction.

  Adam wasn't sure whether she expected him to leave, or wanted him to stay. He hated to leave her alone, knew that despite her calm facade the sight of Mr. Bear and the cradle had shaken her up badly.

  "We need to see about bracing up that back door until you can get the lock fixed," he said.

  "You're right." She frowned, suddenly looking vulnerabl
e and exhausted. She sat in one of the chairs at the table.

  "Why don't you put on some coffee and I'll go check in the shed. I think there are some boards in there we can use," he suggested.

  "You don't mind? I mean, you don't mind staying for a little while?" she asked.

  Mind? If he could, he'd stay the night, hold her in his arms and keep her safe. If he could, he'd kiss away the worry on her brow, stroke the tension from her cheek. He'd make love to her so sweetly, so gently, she'd forget about everything but being in his arms.

  Stupid thoughts, he scoffed inwardly. "Not at all," he replied. "I'll just go get that lumber."

  He went through the broken back door and with the aid of the back porch light, entered the small shed. What was he thinking of? Why would a woman who had married a man like Kurt ever want anything remotely romantic from a man like him?

  "You've always wanted to be me." Kurt's voice filled his head. "You've always wished you were my parents' son, you've always wished you had my life and you've always wanted my women."

  Adam frowned with irritation and pulled out a board that could be used to brace the back door. "Shut up," he muttered to the ghost in his head.

  He wanted to dismiss the words that Kurt had once said to him, but somehow, in a deep, dark place in his heart, he was desperately afraid that they were true.

  * * *

  Breanna was grateful for Adam's presence as she made a pot of coffee. She had never spent a night alone in the house. She'd always had the company of her daughter and now the silence pressed in on her … the empty silence devoid of Maggie's very breath.

  She'd seen a lot of terrible things in her short career as a vice cop, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of Mr. Bear hanging from the tree. She was both angry and more than a little bit afraid. What did it all mean? Why would somebody do something like that?

  "I think I found the perfect board," Adam said as he came through the back door. "I can brace it against the cabinet, then just hammer in a couple of nails into the wall. After you get the lock fixed, I can patch the nail holes for you."