His New Nanny

“A cup of coffee would be nice,” she agreed, and followed him into the kitchen. She sat at the table while he put on half a pot to brew.

When the coffee began to gurgle into the glass carafe he turned back to face her. “What are you doing here?”

A tiny frown danced across her forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why would you leave your home to travel to a small bayou in Louisiana to take a nanny job and work for a man you’d never met? I’ve seen your credentials. You could have a job anywhere.”

“I had a job at a local middle school in Kansas City, but I decided I needed a change.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. He had the feeling that there was more to her story than she was telling.

Even though she was Johnny’s younger sister, before hiring her he had done a thorough background check. He knew she had no criminal record, had never been married and, until a couple of months ago, had worked as a counselor at the middle school she’d mentioned.

Her eyes shone as she finally met his gaze. “I’m here to help Melanie, that’s all that’s important to me. And that should be all that’s important to you.”

Secrets. Everyone seemed to have a couple. He poured them each a cup of coffee, then joined her at the table. “Melanie likes you,” he said.

“I like her.” She took a sip of her coffee and studied him above the rim of the cup. She placed her cup back on the table and wrapped her fingers around it. “She seems rather tentative, as if she’s anticipating me yelling at her…or hitting her.”

Her words created a small ball of rage inside him. He tamped it down and took a drink, then replied, “My wife was a woman who didn’t particularly enjoy motherhood. She was often impatient with Melanie.” He took another drink to stop himself from speaking ill of the dead.

“It’s obvious that Melanie adores you.”

“I think that’s one of the reasons I’m not in jail at the moment.”

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Lucas is aware that Melanie saw something the night of Erica’s murder. I think he figures if Melanie saw me kill her mother that night then Melanie would have nothing to do with me now.”

“But, that’s not necessarily true,” she replied. Once again her eyes darkened. “Children often rewrite reality to make it more comfortable, to make it feel safe. Children also have the capacity to create a fantasy and make it real to them.”

“Do me a favor, don’t mention those kinds of things to Lucas. I have enough problems as it is.”

“I can’t imagine any reason I’d have to speak to the sheriff.” She frowned. “But I’d like to ask you about George.”

“What about him?”

Her frown deepened, and her fingers laced and unlaced in her lap. “He mentioned today that if I wanted to go sightseeing he’d be happy to take me the same places he used to take your wife.”

Sawyer sighed, leaned back and raked a hand through his hair. “George is a lot of talk. I know he told Erica about several clubs in town at one time. If he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll talk to him.”

“That won’t be necessary. I don’t want any trouble,” she said hurriedly. “If there’s nothing else? I’m more tired than I realized.”

He stood and shook his head. “I’d like a check-in from you each evening after Melanie is in bed. I want to know everything that’s going on with her, what happens in the hours while I’m at work.”

“Of course,” she said, standing. She carried her cup to the sink and rinsed it, then started for the doorway.

“I assumed you read the reports about my wife’s murder? Then you must know that she was pregnant at the time of her death.” She stopped walking and nodded, her blue eyes shadowing with a touch of sympathy.

“I read the newspaper accounts this morning,” she said.

“What the newspaper accounts couldn’t tell you was that the baby wasn’t mine.” Her eyes flared slightly with surprise, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Amanda.”

He released a deep sigh as she disappeared out of the kitchen. He took his cup to the sink and added it to hers, then left the kitchen and returned to his study.

Once there he poured himself a glass of Scotch, then walked over to the wall that held all the pictures. His gaze focused on the picture of Erica. She’d been insanely beautiful and selfish and unfaithful.

He wasn’t sure when the affairs had begun. For all he knew she’d started seeing other men soon after their wedding. It didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was that Melanie had already lost one parent. He didn’t want her to lose him.

His gaze moved to the picture of the six men. The Brotherhood, that’s what they’d called themselves when they’d arrived at Riverhead College, the prestigious private school in southern Missouri. They had been five young men, best friends, from the wealthiest families in Conja Creek.

In those four years of school, they’d shared kegs of beer, lots of laughs and a solemn promise to have each other’s backs.

He stared at the face of Lucas Jamison, Sheriff of Conja Creek. Good friend, fellow member of the Brotherhood, but despite the promise they had all made to each other so many years ago, how long would Lucas be able to overlook the damning circumstantial evidence and keep him out of jail?

THE BABY WASN’T HIS.

The words played and replayed in her mind the next day as she and Melanie set up for a tea party in Melanie’s room. As Melanie arranged her stuffed teddy bears into chairs at the miniature table, Amanda unboxed a tiny tea set that probably cost as much as a month’s rent on her apartment back home.

The baby wasn’t his. That meant that before her death Erica had been having an affair. That knowledge certainly added a nail into the coffin of suspicion where Sawyer was concerned. Everyone probably believed that he’d found out about the baby and killed her in some kind of jealous rage.

But despite the evidence, there was a big part of Amanda that wanted to believe, needed to believe, that he was innocent.

“I see you have Ms. Panda Bear at the head of the table,” she now said to Melanie. The black and white bear was slightly bedraggled. “She must be a favorite of yours.”

Melanie nodded and smiled at the bear as if it were a beloved sibling, then she gestured Amanda into one of the two empty chairs.

The little teapot was already filled with apple juice, and Helen had promised fresh-baked cookies in fifteen minutes. As Amanda sat at the table, Melanie walked over to the massive wooden toy chest and nearly disappeared into it as she rummaged around. When she stood back up she held two feather boas in her hands.

She walked over to Amanda and placed the bright-pink one around her shoulders, then slung the purple one over her own and giggled with delight.

“I see we’re dressing for tea.”

The voice came from the doorway, and Amanda whirled around to see Lillian standing there. “Lillian!” she exclaimed in surprise, wondering how the woman had not only gotten inside the house but had climbed the stairs without being heard.

“Looks like fun,” she said.

“Would you like to join us?” Amanda asked.

Lillian smiled. “No, but I have a message to deliver from Helen.” She looked at Melanie. “Helen says if you come to the kitchen the cookies are ready and there’s a bowl of frosting that needs to be licked.”

Melanie’s face lit up as she looked at Amanda. Amanda stood and pulled the boa from around her neck. “Go on,” she said. “We can have our tea party later.”

The words were scarcely out of her mouth before Melanie disappeared from the room. Lillian laughed. “She’s a doll, isn’t she?”

“She seems very sweet and easy to get along with,” Amanda agreed.

“But troubled.” Lillian’s smooth smile fell away, and she moved to the window to stare outside. “I wish we all knew what she’d seen the night that Erica was murdered. I wish we could take that vision out of her head and see the guilty person behind bars.”

“Do you know who Erica was having an affair with?” Amanda asked.