Her Chance Encounters (4 page)

Adrienne's fingers reached up to clasp the door handle of the old oak front door. She swiftly yanked it back when a rather large spider scampered across the cool surface. Swallowing back a curse, Adrienne stood back so the lights from the car shone directly on the handle. It was covered with cobwebs and dead insects. No one had used this entrance in quite a while. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was extremely strange about this whole situation. How did the child get inside if she had not used this doorway?

"The window," the principal reasoned. There were several large, framed windows along the wooden porch. Adrienne carefully examined each of them. They were infested with cobwebs and showed no signs of being disturbed recently. "Okay, not the windows," she muttered, refusing to give into the urge to flee.

She probably went through a back entrance. Without the car's headlights, the back of the structure was pitch black. Far off the flares of the oil refinery shone in the distance. She had to use her fingers to guide her. This entrance was on the ground level. A double glass door was positioned near the middle of another porch. The glass felt cool against her damp forehead as Adrienne pressed her face against it to study inside. It took a while for her eyes to adjust, but she did manage to discover old furniture cluttering the main hallway. Cherice could be hiding behind any number of things there.

The glass doors proved to be locked shut. The rear windows had been sealed by wooden hurricane shutters. Adrienne felt defeated. Even if she did manage to get inside, without a flashlight, it would take her hours to search the old house. Things really were looking hopeless. Her only hope was to get the child to come back outside on her own accord.

"Cherice, this is ridiculous. Stop playing games. Come out here this instant." Many a student and quite a few adults rushed to listen when she used that authoritarian tone. Knocking on the glass panels, Adrienne's eyes scanned the shadows inside. "You don't belong here."

Behind her, a tall figure slowly moved toward Adrienne's location without a sound. Unaware of the danger, when the person addressed her in a grave tone, she screamed and jumped several inches. "You are the one who does not belong here," he spat back. Adrienne spun around so fast, she nearly lost her footing. "Who are you, lady? What the hell are you doing on my property?

Blinded by the glare of the intruder’s flashlight, she instinctively raised her arm to shield her eyes. Would the craziness of this night ever end? "Your land?" she stuttered. "Unless you're the ghost of Stanislaus Hymel, I really don't see how that could be." The last comment was more to herself than the person standing in front of her.

"Adrienne, is that you?" the voice boomed.

"Uncle Stanislaus?" Adrienne whispered, wishing she would wake up from this horrible dream.

Lowering her arm, she attempted to focus on the face of the man. The beam of his flashlight bobbed up and down as he approached. Recognition finally dawned, and she threw herself into the man's strong arms. "Chance, oh, thank goodness. I am so glad it's you. You had me terrified for a moment." Then his earlier comment sounded in her mind. She pulled away and raged at him. "What the hell do you mean 'your property’?”

Instead of going on the defense, the tall man turned the tables on her. "What the hell are you doing sneaking around this place in the middle of the night? Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in coming here? I would have thought a principal was intelligent enough to stay away from precarious situations like this."

"It's my property, Chance Breaux. If I want to sneak around it day or night, I have a legal right to do so." She used her finger to push on his chest.

"Legal or not, if you ever do something so dangerous again, I will..."

"Smack my hand with a ruler?" she hissed, hands on her slender hips. What was it about this man that had her ready to snap? He always seemed to be telling her what she had to do.

"I don't need a ruler and my target is a bit larger than your hand, lady."

Her lips pursed tightly and she started to challenge his threat. Then she remembered Cherice and forced herself to back down. "Stop trying to intimidate me and help me figure how to get inside this house."

"To hell with going inside," he said. "You have two choices, Adrienne. You can get in your car and go home, or you can let me drive you to my place. Either way, you are not going inside that house until morning. There is no telling what kind of trouble you'll get yourself into in there."

"I am not going anywhere." She insisted just as forcibly, and he took a threatening step toward her. "There is a child hiding somewhere in there."

"A child?" He studied her face. "Adrienne, have you been drinking tonight?" Stepping up so the toes of their boots were touching, she slanted her dark head and glared up at him. "No, I have not been drinking, but even if I was, it would be none of your business."

"Good Lord, woman, you are soaking wet."

"The fog was very thick," she muttered.

"Fog?" Chances eyes narrowed, and he bent down to sniff her breath. She smelled clean and fresh, not of alcohol. "Look around, babe. It's a clear night. There is no fog around."

"Not now," she stuttered. She could not believe she thought having him here would help matters. He was making her dafter. "Dammit, Chance Breaux. There was a dense fog just ten minutes ago. Why the hell are you here anyway? River Oaks is still mine. What are you doing sneaking around the place?"

"Protecting your property, you little sassy woman. I was on site at the plant tonight when I saw lights shining over here. Trust me, there was no fog. I would have noticed."

"There was a fog. I was caught up in it since I arrived on the West Bank. How else could I have gotten my clothes so wet?"

Chance studied her wet things. The snug jeans clung provocatively to her subtle curves, and disappeared into sleek, high heel boats. By far, the most interesting part of her attire was her shirt. The damp material fit her like a second skin. Obviously she had neglected to put on anything under it. She was a bit chilly from the wet material, if he was not mistaken. Following his gaze, Adrienne let out a small gasp and immediately crossed her arms in front of her.

"Only someone not in their right mind would try it, but it looks like you tried to take a swim in the river."

"What the hell would I be doing swimming in the muddy Mississippi River at midnight?"

"Probably the same illogical reason you decided to arrive at some deserted, run down property for a nighttime tour?”

It took her several deep breaths, but she managed not to go for his throat. "I do not have enough time to argue with you about the fog or why I am here. Right this moment, there is a little girl lost inside this dark house. Her name is Cherice. I am pretty sure she's a runaway. I almost hit her with my car tonight."

"You almost hit someone with your car? Do you see now what I mean about putting yourself in danger? Tell me everything that happened from the beginning."

At least he seemed to be listening now, instead of jumping all over her, so she complied. "Cherice was standing in the middle of the road about half a mile down river. I didn't see her until it was too late. The fog was so thick... Don't even tell me there was no fog, or so help me I will scream! I will admit I was not concentrating on the road like I should have been. The riverboat sort of sidetracked me for a second or two."

Chance's lips formed an unreadable line. "A riverboat?"

Nervous, sarcasm seeped in her voice. "Yes, a riverboat. You've heard of them, I'm sure. Large boats powered by a huge, turning paddle in the back. Don't you dare make some macho comment about needing a paddle right now to use on me, either."

"Calm down." Pulling off his work shirt, Chance carefully settled it around her shoulders. Lifting her long hair from underneath the material, he set it free to blow in the night air. Bending his head slowly, he brushed a quick kiss across her smooth forehead, down her small nose, before claiming her lips.

The warmth of his embrace settled over Adrienne, and she pulled herself tighter into his arms. Solid and strong, Chance was at least one part of this horrible night that was consistent and predictable. Reaching her cold fingers up, she wrapped her arms around his warm neck. In the dark, she could not see what he looked like without his shirt, but she could imagine he was all muscles and smooth skin. What would he do if she reached down to run her hands across his chest? Would a mat of hair greet her or was he smooth and hard there?

The sound of a childish giggle invaded Adrienne's thoughts as Chance’s hands started exploring. Suddenly, she remembered where she was and what she needed to do. Pulling away abruptly, she rounded to look at the glass doors. The dark shadow of a little girl stood there briefly, then disappeared quickly from sight.

"Cherice!" She banged on the window. The strange odor was back. Turning back to Chance, she demanded, "Did you see her just now?"

"You probably saw a curtain flutter or something," he told her, scanning the area with his flashlight.

"There is a little girl in there. She was just standing at the door. Her name is Cherice. She's got waist length black hair. Her white nightgown shouldn't be too difficult to see with your flashlight." Realizing the girl mentioned Chance, Adrienne decided the huge man beside her probably knew exactly what Cherice looked like.

"You know her, Chance. At least, she knows you. She lives around here. Think about it. Which of your neighbors has a little girl who's about six or so?"

"I don't have any neighbors. The only properties around here, besides the oil company are my place and River Oaks. Trust me. There aren't any children living within miles of here."

"No, you have to trust me, Chance Breaux. Haven't I always been straight with you? There is a girl hiding inside this house and I'm going to find her." Adrienne wondered how to go about smashing the glass doors at the rear of the house.

"You are sure there is a small child in there?" Her heart swelled with hope at Chance's words.

"Yes, Chance. I saw her just like I saw the fog, the riverboat, and the captain."

"Captain?" Chance muttered. Adrienne started to explain, but he stopped her short. "Let's not get into him just yet. We can revisit the topic of the captain tomorrow morning. I somehow think my brain will be more open after a few hours of sleep."

She smirked at the weariness in his tone. Now that he was not acting all bossy, she was happy to have him around to help solve this problem. "I was thinking..."

"I am beginning to think that's a dangerous pastime for you, honey," he whispered under his breath.

"Huh?" Adrienne looked up at his dark face.

"You were thinking?" he urged.

"The only way to get inside is to break these glass doors. I have a crow bar in my trunk. We could use it to smash the panels closest to the doorknob." She was rather proud of her logic.

"There is another way." Reaching into his pants pocket he extracted a ring of keys. Using the flashlight beam to study the silver and gold pieces of metal, he located the one he needed and unlocked the door. "Ladies, first."

"How did you get that key?"

Chance stepped inside and used the flashlight to scan the room. "Old Stan gave it to me himself. He had one to my place, too. While he did not particularly like me, we were the only neighbors for miles around. I'm the one who found him after he passed away. No telling how long his death would have gone unnoticed if I had not stopped... I'm sorry, babe. That was callus of me. This place is spooky enough without me planting images of ghost in your brain. Where should we look first?"

They started in the kitchen. The cabinets were outdated and the stove needed replacing. They searched every room downstairs without any luck. Chance searched upstairs alone, warning Adrienne there were several rotten places in the floor. "Hell, she's not in here," he called down.

Adrienne was forced to admit defeat after nearly an hour. "Maybe she went back home or something. Let's go out the front door. My car is still there. I hope the battery didn't die."

Chance had given her the flashlight as he reached to pull out his key ring again. The heavy ring slipped to the floor, and she turned around to flash the light so he could find them. The beam caught a brief flash of Cherice's face high against the far wall of the front room. Surprised with her discovery, she accidently dropped the beam to alert Chance. "There she is! She must have climbed up on a bookcase or something."

Chance took the flashlight and used it to scan the room. "Where is she, Adrienne?"

"Over there," the woman yelled, grabbing his hand and guiding him in the right direction. The beam illuminated a large fireplace. A five-foot painting hung above it. A tall, solemn man dominated the frame. In front of him sat a breathtakingly beautiful woman with raven hair. A small child with the same hair was cradled in the woman's lap.

"Oh, my Lord!" Adrienne gasped, her knees going weak. Chance reached one strong arm around her for support. "That's her. The little girl in that picture is the child I almost ran over tonight. Who is she?"

"Meet your Uncle Stanislaus, Aunt Wynona and their daughter. I never asked what her name was when I used to visit old Stan. Hell, I didn't even know the woman's name until I started looking into your claim on the property. Old Stan did not like to talk about them. All I know is the two of them died in some freak accident about seventy-five years ago."