The Lawman's Nanny Op (7 page)

He needed to figure out what in the hell was going on, he thought as he sipped the coffee and watched the sun begin to peek over the horizon.

He was on his third cup of coffee and had made several phone calls when he heard the sound of water running and realized Portia was awake and taking a shower.

She was probably going to be sore, he thought as he checked the refrigerator and pulled out everything he needed to rustle up some bacon, eggs and toast.

Although he was eager to get out and start checking trucks and asking questions, his first order of business was to make sure she was okay.

The bacon had just finished frying when she made an appearance. “Over easy or broken yolks?” he asked. He tried not to notice how the lime-green T-shirt she wore clung to her breasts and transformed her hazel eyes to the color of lush grass. White shorts hugged her shapely behind and displayed her gorgeous long legs.

“Caleb, what are you doing?” she asked from the doorway.

“I’m making you breakfast. How are you feeling?”

She left the doorway and walked over to the cabinet to get herself a coffee cup. “Actually, better than I thought I would. My body is a little sore but at least my headache is gone. And over easy would be terrific.”

“Sit,” he commanded and pointed to the table. “This will be ready in just a few minutes.”

She sat at the table. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He crooked an eyebrow upward. “There’s probably a lot of things about me you don’t know. Just like there are probably a lot of things about you that I don’t know.”

She wrapped her slender fingers around her cup and looked at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not just making small talk?”

He broke the eggs into the skillet and pressed the bread down into the toaster. “What are your plans for the day?” he asked, intentionally changing the subject. He’d just needed to remind himself that they had no real connection, that they’d been two different people when they’d been young and crazy in love.

“I’m thinking of doing something completely shallow and out of character and calling Layla to see if she wants to go shopping and have lunch.”

“I think that sounds like just what the doctor ordered,” he said, glad that she didn’t intend to stay here all day alone.

The toast popped up and he flipped the eggs onto the awaiting plates, then he set the plates on the table and joined her there.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asked.

“This morning I’m going to coordinate with Benjamin and we’re going to check out the black pickups in the area and look for front-end damage. This afternoon I plan on stopping in at Harley’s Bar to see if Harley has seen or heard from Dale. If I remember right, the two men were friends before Dale went to prison.”

“Maybe Harley is behind this,” she said.

Caleb thought of Harley Danvers, the owner of a raucous bar on the edge of town. The big bald man was mostly muscles and tattoos and wore his badass attitude on his broad, ex-boxer features.

“I don’t know,” he finally replied. “Everyone knows that beneath Harley’s gruff exterior is a big heart. I can’t imagine him risking everything he’s built here in town to do something like this for a friend, but I’ll check it all out.”

For a few moments they ate in silence. Caleb tried not to notice the play of the sun in her hair and the floral scent that emanated from her. He tried not to remember that single night of passion they’d shared so long ago.

He needed to solve this thing and fast. The more time he spent with Portia the more she stirred something inside him that was definitely unwelcome.

“After you eat I want you to make a list for me of anyone you’ve dated, anyone you’ve flirted with in the last year. I want to know anyone who was rude to you, anyone who made you feel uncomfortable even for a second.”

“So you don’t think it’s Dale Stemple come back to get revenge on me?” she asked.

“I think the worst thing we can do is have tunnel vision and just assume it’s Dale to the exclusion of anyone else.” He ate the last bit of his toast and then got up and carried his plate to the sink.

“I don’t see why we need to go back a whole year. Surely whoever is angry with me, if it isn’t Dale Stemple, is mad about something that’s happened recently,” she replied.

“Not necessarily.” He leaned with his back against the cabinet and gazed at her thoughtfully. “Emotions aren’t always that clean and clear. Sometimes things simmer just beneath the surface for months, for years, and then they explode.”

She held his gaze for a long moment and he realized he didn’t know if he was talking about whoever was after Portia or his own unresolved feelings where she was concerned.

He shook his head as if to dispel such thoughts. “And another thing, I think it would be best if you stayed away from the day-care kids.” Her eyes widened at his words. “Let’s face it, Portia. I don’t want any of the kids to become collateral damage and at the moment, it looks like somebody has targeted you.”

Chapter 5

“H
e was surprised when I wrote down all the names of the men I’d dated in the last year,” Portia said as she stabbed her fork into a piece of celery in her salad.

“We all know you’re nothing but the town slut,” Layla said with a teasing grin. “Besides, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Caleb hasn’t exactly been a recluse. He dates a lot, too. He was even engaged for a while, although he managed to screw that up.”

Portia looked around the café for the tenth time since they’d come in for lunch, wondering if one of the men at the counter, if somebody at one of the tables, had been the person who had run her off the road the night before.

She’d been targeted, that’s what Caleb had said. But why? And by whom?

She returned her attention back to Layla and released a sigh. “It would be nice if all the dating I’ve done would have led to a Mr. Right, but I’m beginning to think there is no Mr. Right for me in this town.”

“Tell me about it,” Layla said dryly. “The only difference between you and me is that I
am
the town slut and I still can’t find my Mr. Right.”

Portia laughed and shook her head, as always half appalled and half delighted by Layla’s outrageous sense of humor. Layla wasn’t exactly promiscuous, but she’d definitely had more sexual experiences than Portia.

“I thought maybe after lunch we’d check out that new dress shop that opened down by the hardware store. I’ve been meaning to go in for the last week but haven’t done it,” Layla said.

“Surely you need to get back to work,” Portia protested. “I don’t want to take up your entire day.”

“Seriously, do you realize how bad the real-estate market is here in Black Rock? I’m just lucky that I had a good inheritance from my parents, otherwise I’d be starving.”

“Or buying fewer clothes,” Portia said teasingly.

“Trust me, I’d rather stop eating than stop shopping,” Layla replied with a grin.

An hour later the two were in Bernie’s Boutique. Bernice Clinton, aka Bernie, was a plump housewife who had decided to open the store in an effort to bring better fashion to the small town. She had an eye for what was hot and trendy and her store carried not just clothing but also shoes and handbags.

Layla was in heaven, sorting through the racks with a discerning eye and pulling out a half-dozen things to try on. Portia had no need for new clothes and was more than aware of the fact that until the children returned to the day care, her life would feel incomplete and no amount of shoes or purses could make it right.

When Layla disappeared into the changing room Portia sat on a tufted bench and visited with Bernie, but her mind was on Caleb.

Sometimes things simmer just beneath the surface for months, for years.
His words played and replayed in her head. Had he been talking about the person who was after her or had he been talking about the two of them?

What could have possibly simmered in him about her through the years? He’d promised to love her forever, yet when she’d gone out of town he’d cheated on her.

Several of her friends hadn’t been able to wait to tell her that he’d spent the evening at the café with Jayme Cordell, a lovely blonde who’d been two years younger than Portia and Caleb. Those same friends had told her that at the end of the evening the two had left together.

He’d proclaimed his innocence strongly and Portia had forgiven him. They’d resumed their relationship, but it had never been the same. She refused to make love with him again and he seemed okay with that, seemed to understand that she wanted to take things slowly.

She’d left for college and had only been gone a week when rumors began to circulate again about Caleb and Jayme and she didn’t give him another chance.

Once a cheater, always a cheater, her mother would say. But her mother thought all men were cheaters and just needed the right opportunity to prove their vile natures.

Now, after all these years, Portia found herself wondering what had really happened between Caleb and Jayme. With the benefit of age and maturity, she recognized how twisted things could get when delivered from gossipers.

She also could admit that at eighteen years old her mother had been an enormous influence in her life and the memory of her cheating father had certainly played a role in her decision to kick Caleb to the curb.

She frowned. Why was she thinking about all this now? She couldn’t go back and change the past and Caleb was only in her life now as the deputy trying to solve a crime.

It was just after four when Layla dropped her off at her place. “You sure you’re going to be okay here alone?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” Portia replied. “Caleb said he’d check in with me later and besides, I’m not going to be chased out of my own home by some boogeyman,” she added with a touch of false bravado.

“You go, girl!” Layla exclaimed. “You know, I could get you a gun if you think you need one. One of my old beaus has a revolver.”

“No, thanks,” Portia instantly exclaimed. “It would be just my luck that I’d shoot myself in the foot or somehow an intruder would get it away from me and use it on me. I’ll be fine.”

“Call me later,” Layla said as Portia got out of the car.

Portia waved as Layla pulled out of the driveway. The two women had been best friends since fifth grade, their friendship challenged by their differences and nurtured by their sameness.

There had been no father in Portia’s life and Layla’s father had been a cold, critical man who had punched holes in Layla’s soul with harsh words, a backhand and a lack of love. They were holes Layla tried to fill by jumping into bed and into relationships with men too quickly.

Portia started to head to her front door but paused when a familiar car pulled in to her driveway. She smiled at the pretty blonde who got out.

“Hey, Peyton,” she said to the woman who was dating Caleb’s brother, Tom, and whose little girl was in Portia’s day care.

“Hi, Portia. I heard about all the trouble you’ve been having and thought I’d stop by to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Not that I can think of,” Portia replied. “You want to come in?”

“No, thanks. I was just on my way to Melody’s to pick up Lilly and thought I’d stop here for just a minute. I know Caleb is worried sick about all this. So is Tom.”

“I feel a little guilty taking Caleb away from his search for Brittany,” Portia said.

Peyton frowned. “Unfortunately there isn’t much they can do about it right now. Tom told me that so far they haven’t found anything in the car, no fingerprints, nothing that would tell them what might have happened. It’s been terrible.”

“Caleb didn’t mention that to me.”

“Caleb is the type who keeps things bottled up inside. I checked with Tom a little while ago and the search of the Miller property didn’t turn up anything. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, I just wanted to check in on you.” Peyton reached out and touched Portia’s forearm. “I’ve been where you’re at, Portia. I know all about fear. If you ever need to talk, just give me a call.”

It was no wonder that Tom Grayson had fallen in love with Peyton. She was not only beautiful, but she was warm and caring, as well.

“Thanks, Peyton, I appreciate it.” The two women said their goodbyes and then Peyton got back in her car and Portia went into the house.

Peyton was right. She knew all about fear. It hadn’t been so very long ago that her baby had been kidnapped and her life threatened by an unknown assailant. Tom had investigated the case and had not only managed to get baby Lilly safely back into Peyton’s arms, but had also fallen in love with them both. The man behind the crimes had been Peyton’s ex-boyfriend, who was also Lilly’s father.

There had been rumors that a wedding was imminent between Black Rock’s sheriff and the beautiful Peyton and everyone in town was happy that Tom had found the woman to complete his life.

The house was too silent and Portia found herself wandering from room to room, checking the locks on the windows, fighting the jangling nerves that threatened to take hold of her.

She’d told Layla the truth, that she refused to be chased away from her home. But, she had to consider that the person who had run her off the road probably also knew where she lived. She told herself she was safe behind locked doors and windows, with the promise of a patrol car in the area, but still she felt on edge, with a touch of fear simmering inside her.

It was just after six when Caleb called to check in. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine, tired,” she replied, surprised by how the sound of his deep voice chased away a little bit of her fear. “Busy day?”

“Busy but unproductive,” he replied, his frustration evident in his voice. “So far we haven’t been able to locate the truck involved in the accident last night. I’m heading to Harley’s Bar now to see if I can catch up with him. Are you okay there? I think maybe I should come by there when I’m finished at Harley’s. I don’t like the idea of you there by yourself.”

Yes,
a little voice screamed in the back of her head.
Yes, please come and stay with me.
But she refused to allow the words to leave her lips.