The Lawman's Nanny Op (17 page)

“I can hear your knees knocking together,” he said.

She laughed and in that moment she looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her and a sweet, haunting desire filled him.

Without thought, he grabbed her to him and captured her trembling lips with his own. He knew it was a stupid move, but he wanted one last embrace, one final kiss before he finally told her goodbye.

She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him as if he were her lifeline and for just a moment she felt like his.

He wanted to lose himself in her arms, kiss her forever, but, aware that it was time to go, he reluctantly stepped away from her.

“Lock the door behind me and I’ll see you around dawn,” he said as he opened the door. “Or earlier if our plan works.”

He left the house and heard her lock the door behind him. He’d just pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the car door when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

He grabbed it and saw from the lighted caller ID that it was Benjamin. “Yeah?” he answered in a hushed tone as he stepped off the front porch.

“Tom called me to a car accident out on the highway. I’m just leaving now, but I wanted you to know I’ll be about ten or fifteen minutes late,” Benjamin said.

Caleb frowned. He’d assumed his brother was already in place. “I was just going to move my car in front of the Johnsons’ place,” he whispered in case an intruder was within earshot. “We get called there so often I figured it wouldn’t look too suspicious parked there, but now I’ll go back inside and wait for you to get into place. Call me back when you’re in the backyard.”

“Got it,” Benjamin replied and then clicked off.

The Johnson family had two teenage boys that were often in trouble and at least once a month they responded to neighbor complaints about loud music or parties. Nobody would think it odd that two patrol cars were parked in front of that house.

Caleb would miss her. The thought stunned him. In the time Portia had spent in his home she’d filled it with color and meaning. She’d made it feel like more than a place to sleep. She’d made it feel like a home.

He’d liked seeing her first thing in the morning and that she had been the last person he’d see before going to sleep at night. He liked the small talk he’d shared with her, the way her eyes lit up when she was tickled about something.

Yes, he’d liked having her with him—too much. And now he needed her away from him, back to her own life so that he could get back to his.

He’d give this plan three nights and then he’d have to figure out something else. Maybe he could move Portia into the cabin with Jacob. That way she’d be out of his house and still protected.

He couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips as he thought of how irritated Jacob would be to have his isolation broken by Portia’s presence.

His smile lingered only a minute and then fell as he pocketed his cell phone. He was just about to head back into the house when he heard a scrape behind him…the sound of a footstep on the concrete drive.

He started to whirl around but something hard smashed into the side of his head. Pain exploded in a cascade of pinpoint stars as he staggered back from the car.

As he fell, he had a moment of panic, of knowledge that Portia was in danger. He caught a glimpse of who had struck him, shocked that it hadn’t been Dale Stemple or any of the people on their short list of suspects. Then darkness roared out and grabbed him.

The minute Caleb left, Portia headed for the kitchen to make herself a cup of hot tea. She was chilled to the bone and achingly aware of the fact for the next five minutes or so she was here alone and potentially vulnerable.

Before reaching the kitchen she walked over to the bookcase and looked at the photos on the shelves and her gaze lingered on Caleb’s picture.

Love filled her, along with sadness. How long would it take her to get over this round with Caleb? It had taken her a long time to get over him when they’d broken up long ago. The truth was she’d never really gotten over him.

She sighed and went into the kitchen to fix herself the tea, hoping that would keep her awake until dawn and Caleb’s eventual return into the house.

Caleb. As she filled the teakettle with water she continued thinking about him. She’d spent the last three days fighting the need to tell him how she felt about him. She wanted a second chance with him, an opportunity to get it right, but she was afraid that he didn’t want the same thing.

There was no question that he wanted her on a physical level and she didn’t doubt that he cared about her. There were moments when she felt his gaze on her that she thought she saw love in his eyes, but wondered if it was just her wishful thinking.

As she waited for the water to boil she glanced at the clock. It had only been minutes since he’d walked out the door. Was he already in place, hiding in the shrubs in the front of her yard or maybe across the street in her neighbor’s yard?

Was Benjamin watching the back of her house, waiting for a potential killer to appear? This night would be endless. And what if it didn’t yield the desired results?

She couldn’t stay here much longer. Each and every minute she stayed in this house, each and every moment she remained in Caleb’s life, would only make it more painful when it was time to say goodbye.

The problem was she didn’t know where else to go. She supposed she could stay at her mother’s, but she’d never be able to live with herself if she brought danger to her doorstep. There was no way she could battle her allergies to Mr. Whiskers and stay with Layla.

There was no question that she felt the safest right where she was, that she trusted Caleb more than anyone else on the face of the earth to keep her safe. But there was no way to keep her heart safe if she continued to stay here with him.

Her suitcase was packed, but she didn’t know where she would be taking it when she left here. Would she be going home, with Dale or whomever behind bars and the rest of her life stretching before her? Or would she be carrying it someplace else, someplace where Caleb thought she would be safe until this matter was resolved?

Portia jumped as the teakettle began to whistle and moved it off the hot burner. It took her only moments to make her tea and as she carried it into the living room there was a frantic knock on her front door. What the heck? She quickly set the cup on one of the end tables next to the sofa as her heart beat unnaturally fast.

Whoever was at the door couldn’t be a threat. Caleb would have never allowed the person to get close enough to knock on the door.

With a horrible sense of foreboding prickling through her she went to the door and turned on the porch light. A woman stood at the door, her features twisted in alarm. “There’s a man in your driveway,” she yelled through the door. “I think he’s hurt.” She disappeared from Portia’s view.

Was it a trick? Where was Caleb? Her heart beat even faster as she left the door and went to the front window where she could see the driveway.

The beat of her heart felt like it stopped as she saw Caleb’s car still in the driveway and his body crumpled next to it. But before she could do anything else, her front door opened and the woman walked inside.

For a moment Portia didn’t recognize the woman who held a knife in one hand and Caleb’s set of keys in the other. Her pale blue eyes shone with rage. Then recognition struck and she gasped.

Rita Stemple had gained weight and her light brown hair was now a glossy black. Gone was the browbeaten aura that had always clung to her. Instead she looked like an avenging warrior with murder on her mind.

“Hello, Portia. I’m afraid your deputy boyfriend is a bit under the weather. He had an unfortunate encounter with a baseball bat.” Rita took a step into the room.

Caleb! Portia’s heart crunched in her chest and she fought an overwhelming sense of despair. Was he dead? Had she killed him? She couldn’t think about that now, she thought as she focused on the woman in front of her.

“Rita, what’s going on? What are you doing here?” A scream was trapped deep inside Portia as terror spiked through her veins but she tried to keep her voice cool and calm.

“Surely you know why I’m here.” Rita’s fingers tightened on the knife handle as she took another step into the room and dropped the set of keys to the floor. “You ruined my life, Portia, and now it’s payback time.”

“Rita, I was obligated to report signs of abuse to the authorities,” Portia said desperately. “I could have lost my license if I hadn’t reported it.”

Rita slashed the knife through the air and Portia’s fear was so great it felt as if her heart stopped beating for a moment.

“I’m not talking about those damned kids. I never wanted them in the first place. They were Dale’s idea. He’s the one who wanted them. They needed discipline to keep them in line.”

Portia stared at her, stunned as she realized the truth. It hadn’t been Dale who had been abusing the Stemple children. It had been Rita. Wrong. They had all gotten it so wrong.

“It’s Dale I care about and you screwed it all up for me and him,” Rita exclaimed.

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Portia asked.
Keep her talking,
she thought to herself. As long as she was talking she wasn’t using that wicked-looking knife.

“I was a good wife while Dale was in prison. I visited him when I could. I wrote him every day and never cheated on him. I got a job and sent him money to make his time easier and I waited for him to get out so we could be together again.” Rita’s voice was raw with emotion. “On the day he was released I went to his parents’ house so we could plan our life together and he told me he didn’t want me anymore.” Angry tears filled her eyes but she didn’t loosen her hold on the knife.

“If you hadn’t turned us in nobody would have known that he was selling illegal guns, he wouldn’t have gone to prison and we would still be together. Now he wants to divorce me and move on with his life without me and it’s all your fault.”

Without warning she lunged toward Portia. Portia did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed her cup of tea off the end table and threw it in the woman’s face.

Rita screeched in outrage as the hot liquid splashed her. She started to raise her hands to wipe her eyes and Portia took the opportunity to kick the knife out of her hand, then Portia shoved past her and tried to get out the front door.

She got halfway there when she was tackled from behind. She sprawled to the floor and quickly turned on her back in an effort to defend herself.

Rita had the knife back in her hand and Portia drew her legs up and kicked in a frenzy, trying to keep the blade from hurting her. One of the kicks connected with Rita’s stomach and her breath whooshed out of her on a strangled sob of rage.

She slashed the knife downward and Portia rolled to evade the killing stab. She managed to get to her feet and backed away from Rita, who stood and advanced with a murderous intent.

“There’s nobody to save you, Portia. You should have been dead the night I crawled through your window and tried to strangle you.” Rita’s chest rose and fell with her labored breathing. “You took away the only thing that mattered to me. It’s your fault he doesn’t love me anymore. You and your meddling ruined my life. And for that you deserve to die!”

Once again she leaped forward and this time she connected with Portia, the knife ripping across Portia’s shoulder even though she stumbled backward to get away.

The pain rippled through her and she released the scream that had been trapped inside her since the moment Rita had appeared in the house.

Reeling with the agony, Portia fell to one knee, but quickly got up as blood poured from the wound and a wave of dizziness cast her sideways on unsteady feet.

This was it, she thought as a sob wrenched from her throat and an overwhelming weariness seeped through her.

She knew Caleb had done his best to protect her, but neither of them had ever considered that they were looking for a woman. None of them had thought about Rita. And now Caleb was dead and Benjamin apparently hadn’t heard her scream and there was nobody left to save her.

She pressed her hand to her wound in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood and fell to her knees, unable to summon any more strength to fight back. Fear mingled with grief, not for her own death, but for Caleb’s.

“Please,” she whispered and she wasn’t sure if it was a plea to let her live or one for death to come quickly.

Rita grinned and the coldness in her eyes intensified. “It’s time for revenge,” she said.

At that moment the front door burst open and Caleb entered like a raging bull. The side of his head was bloody but his expression was cold and determined. He didn’t say a word but rather raised his gun and fired. The bullet hit Rita in the knee and she screamed with agony as she fell to the floor.

Caleb rushed to Portia’s side as Benjamin came through the door. “Portia.” Caleb gathered her into his arms. “Stay with me,” he said.

“I thought you were dead,” she said as tears filled her eyes. She reached a hand up and touched the side of his head where blood was still wet and sticky.

“You’ve always known I have a hard head,” he replied.

She closed her eyes, knowing she was safe, that the danger had passed. She was vaguely aware of him calling for an ambulance and then she knew nothing.

Chapter 12

“M
aybe you can get a big permanent tattoo to cover the scar,” Layla said the next afternoon. She’d arrived at the hospital just a few minutes earlier with a huge bouquet of flowers and a package of temporary tattoos.

Portia had received twelve stitches and was going to be released from the hospital in the next few minutes. “Trust me, after all I’ve been through a scar is the last thing I’m worried about. Besides, I’m not really the tattoo type of woman.”

“I can’t believe it was Rita. I can’t believe she was the one who was abusing those poor kids.” Layla shook her head. “It just goes to show you that you can’t know what goes on behind closed doors.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what goes on behind closed doors in this town,” Portia replied.