His New Nanny

“I didn’t kill her.” The words came from him without passion. “But I need to know how strong you are, if you can withstand the rumors, the absolute ugliness this has brought into this house, into my life. I don’t want Melanie to get attached, then you wind up running because you can’t take the heat.”

Her chin tilted upward once again. “I have no intention of going anywhere until you tell me to go.”

He nodded, satisfied with her answer, at least for the moment. “The investigation into Erica’s death is ongoing. I will tell you that I’m the primary suspect right now.”

“You said that Melanie stopped speaking that night. Could you tell me what happened? It would help me to understand her a little better.”

Frantic worry stabbed through him as he thought of his daughter. What had she seen that night from her bedroom window? If she finally started speaking again, what would she be able to tell the authorities?

“I can’t tell you exactly what happened. All I know is the night of Erica’s murder I had fallen asleep right here in my office chair and a scream woke me. I knew instantly that it was Melanie. I raced upstairs and into her bedroom and found her standing in front of the window. She was sobbing and shaking so hard she could barely speak. She pointed out the window and said, ‘Mommy’s gone.’”

Amanda’s face reflected the horror he’d felt that night as he continued. “I looked out the window to where she was pointing. There was a full moon that night, and on the dock I could see one of Erica’s shoes and the lightweight wrap she often pulled on when she was going outside. I thought she’d fallen off the dock and into the swamp water. It wasn’t until I ran down there to see if I could find her that I saw the blood and knew it hadn’t been a simple fall.”

He drew a deep breath, feeling the need for a drink, wanting to numb himself against the memories, both of Erica’s life and her death.

“So, you don’t know what Melanie saw?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly what she saw, but it frightened her so badly it stole her ability to talk. She hasn’t said a single word since that night.”

Suddenly exhausted, he moved toward the door. All he wanted at the moment was a drink, then to sleep without dreams. And he needed to get away from Ms. Amanda Rockport with her pleasing scent and cupid lips that reminded him it had been a long time since he’d enjoyed the pleasure of a woman. He’d stopped sleeping with Erica long before her death two months ago.

“As you can see, there’s a computer in here. Feel free to use it during the hours I’m gone if you want to keep up with e-mail or whatever. If you need something for Melanie, just let me know and we’ll get it. There’s a phone in your room with a separate number from the house phone for your convenience.” He rattled off the number, then gestured her out of the office. “And now, unless you have other questions, it’s been a long day.”

She walked in front of him, her slender hips swaying slightly beneath the navy dress she wore. “Will I see you in the morning?” she asked as she paused at the foot of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

“Probably not. I’ll leave early to drive into Baton Rouge for a day at the office. I’ll be home for dinner. If you need anything or have questions, Helen, our cook, will be able to help you.”

“Then I guess I’ll just say good-night,” she replied.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched her ascend. Something about her looked fragile, a shadow in her eyes, a touch of sadness to her features.

He hoped she was stronger than she looked, because he needed somebody strong and determined to stand by Melanie. He needed somebody who wouldn’t be chased away by rumors and a murder case that seemed to point a finger at nobody but him.

When she’d disappeared from his sight, he returned to his office and pulled a bottle of Scotch and a glass from his bottom drawer. He poured a liberal amount, then sat back in his chair and took a sip, enjoying the smooth warmth that slid down his throat.

This was what he’d done on the night of Erica’s murder. He’d sat in here and had drunk Scotch and seethed and stewed. He’d imagined his life without her, and the vision had been pleasing.

He’d been sick of her lies, the cheating and the knowledge that, not only was she tired of playing wife, she’d been tired of playing mommy. It had been that night that he’d made the decision to get her out of his life.

He now downed the Scotch and got up from the chair. He shut off the light in the office, then walked to the living room and stepped out of the French doors that led to the stone patio.

The moon had been full that night, and it was full again tonight. From this vantage point he could see the dock extending out over the glittering swamp. The hanging moss from the cypress trees appeared like gigantic silvery webs spun by gargantuan spiders.

The swamp was never silent. Insects buzzed and clicked a nighttime melody that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.

His thoughts went back to the woman he’d invited into his home, into his daughter’s life. Amanda Rockport wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She was prettier than he’d imagined, not that he had any interest in pursuing anything romantic with her. She was his daughter’s nanny and nothing else.

He smiled with a touch of bitterness. Now wouldn’t that just set the local tongues wagging. He could just hear them speculating that he’d gotten rid of one woman to make room for another.

His smile faded. The way things were looking, he wouldn’t have time to stir up more rumors or start a relationship. The way things were looking, it was very possible he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison for Erica’s murder.

DESPITE THE LONG DRIVE the day before and the equally long evening, Amanda awakened early the next morning. The stress of a new place and a new bed to get used to hadn’t stopped her from sleeping well. She got out of bed and padded over to the window where the sun had yet to climb completely above the tops of the trees.

Vapor rose from the water, shrouding the swamp in a haunting mist. Kansas City, Missouri, didn’t have these kinds of views. It was a sober reminder to her that she was far away from home and dependent on a man who may or may not have murdered his wife.

She shook her head as if to dislodge this thought and instead left the window and crept through the bathroom and paused at Melanie’s bedroom doorway.

The little girl was asleep, burrowed beneath the pink ruffled bedspread with only the top of her head showing. Amanda softly closed the door of the bathroom, then took a quick shower.

When she was finished and dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue T-shirt, it was just after seven. She checked in on Melanie once again. Seeing that she was still asleep, Amanda crept down the stairs.

There were two things she wanted…coffee and information and not necessarily in that order. Assuming that Sawyer had already left, she went into his office. Even though he’d given her permission to use the computer, she felt like an intruder as she sat in his chair and punched the power button.

As she waited for the computer to boot up she was aware of the scent of him lingering in the room. A combination of earthy cologne, of shaving cream and the underlying wisp of some kind of alcohol.

Last night she’d wanted to ask him more questions about the murder, but there had been something slightly forbidding in his eyes.

When the computer was up and running she went to a search engine and punched in the words Erica Bennett and murder. The search yielded half a dozen results, all from the Conja Creek Gazette.

The first article she pulled up was the initial report of the murder. It was brief, telling only that the body of Erica Bennett had been pulled out of the swamp and foul play was suspected.

The second article detailed the crime more completely. Erica Bennett had been stabbed six times before being shoved or falling into the swamp. She had been pregnant at the time of her murder. Sawyer Bennett was being questioned about the death of his wife. The rest of the articles indicated the investigation was ongoing and no arrests had been made.

Amanda leaned back in the chair, stunned by the knowledge that Erica had been stabbed, and equally surprised that she’d been pregnant. So Sawyer hadn’t only lost his wife, but he’d lost an unborn child, as well.

She shut down the computer, her mind whirling as she headed for the kitchen to find a cup of coffee. Helen stood at the stove. Her eyes narrowed slightly as Amanda entered the room.

“If you’ll take a seat in the dining room, I’ll serve you breakfast,” she said, no trace of friendliness in her voice.

“I’m not much of a breakfast eater and I’m not a guest. I work here, so I’ll just have my coffee in here.” She pointed to the round oak kitchen table.

“Suit yourself,” Helen replied, pulling a cup from the cabinet. She filled it with coffee, then set it in front of Amanda at the table.

Amanda slid into one of the chairs and watched the old woman as she began to peel carrots at the sink. “Have you worked here a long time, Helen?” she asked.

“Long enough,” Helen replied, offering no more information. Amanda took a sip of the coffee and stared out the window, where again she could see the place where Erica Bennett had lost her life.

“So, you knew Erica?” she finally asked.

“If you want gossip you’ve come to the wrong place.” Helen turned to look at her. “I don’t carry tales, and even if I did, I don’t know you well enough to talk about personal things. For all I know you’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“I have no intention of going anywhere,” Amanda countered.

Helen’s gray eyes studied her coldly. “Time will tell. Death came calling at this house and I got a feeling in my bones that bad things are still to come. I figure you’ll be out of here within a week.” She turned back to the sink.

Amanda took another drink of her coffee. She’d hoped to make an ally of Helen, but it appeared that wasn’t going to happen. She was truly on her own.

At that moment Melanie came into the kitchen. Still clad in her pajamas, her dark hair sleep tousled, she offered Amanda a shy smile, then slid into the chair opposite her at the table.