large desk dominated the space with what appeared to be a state-of-the-art computer on top. Several overstuffed chairs sat in front of the desk. Amanda sank into one of them, fighting the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her.
As she waited for Sawyer she looked around the room. One of the walls was decorated with framed photographs of buildings and homes. She assumed he’d been the architect on the projects.
Another wall held personal pictures, and she stood and moved closer to get a better view of these. There were several of Melanie. They looked to be school portraits, each one showing her a little older.
Then there were a couple of photographs of Sawyer, the woman who must have been his wife and Melanie. The woman was beautiful, a brunette with exotic dark eyes and lush lips. On the surface the photos depicted a happy family, but as Amanda studied the subtle body language, she saw a distance between husband and wife.
A distance that had resulted in murder?
There was one other picture that Amanda instantly recognized. Her brother had one just like it hanging on the wall in his office. The photo was of six young men, their arms slung around each other in easy friendship.
Amanda knew it had been taken in college. “The Brotherhood,” Johnny had told her when she’d asked about it. He’d explained that the Brotherhood had been a group of young, wealthy men all from Conja Creek.
Johnny, who hadn’t been from Conja Creek and had been at the college on a scholarship had been welcomed into the fold when he’d been assigned a room with Jackson Burdeaux, one of the men in the photo.
She sat in the chair again once more wondering if she had done the right thing in coming here. Certainly Lillian and James Cordell had seemed like respectable, decent people. Surely if they thought Sawyer Bennett had killed his wife they wouldn’t be coming over for dinner.
She straightened in the chair, tension coiling in her stomach as Sawyer returned to the room. Each time she saw him she was struck again by the attractiveness of his bold features, his chiseled jaw and thick black hair.
“I think it would be easiest if I tell you my expectations. Then if you have a problem we can discuss it.” His firm tone made her suspect he was not a man who was accustomed to having his authority questioned.
She nodded and waited for him to continue. He moved behind the desk and sat, his gaze direct and focused on her. “I need you to be here Monday through Friday from the time Melanie wakes up until she goes to bed. I have an office in Baton Rouge and will be driving back and forth on those days. You can have the weekends off.” A smile curved the corners of his lips. “You’ll be free to run the streets of Conja Creek with Lillian.”
The magnetism of his smile caused a small ball of heat to ignite in the pit of her stomach. The smile was there only a moment, then gone. “What Melanie needs right now more than anything is routine and consistency. She needs somebody she can count on, somebody she can trust, and I’m hoping you can be that person for her.”
She nodded. They had already discussed salary in their e-mail conversations, so nothing he’d said so far was a surprise. “I’m hoping Melanie and I will become the best of friends.”
He stood as if to dismiss her. “We’ll take things on a day-to-day basis. I won’t keep you this evening. I know it’s been a long day for you, and Melanie is an early riser. One last thing. My daughter is afraid of the dark. There’s a night-light in her room. Make sure it’s turned on each night when she goes to bed.”
She got up from her chair, aware that she was being dismissed. “Before I leave, there’s something I’d like to ask you. I understand that Melanie quit speaking two months ago. Can you tell me under what circumstances this happened?”
He walked around the desk and moved to stand before her…too close…invading her space. His green eyes gleamed with a hard light as his lips once again curved into a smile, this one not so pleasant.
“Haven’t you heard?” he asked, and one of his dark brows quirked upward. “Melanie stopped speaking on the night that I murdered her mother.”
Chapter Two
Sawyer saw the lift of her chin that displayed a touch of bravado, which was incongruent with the loss of color from her face. She was a pretty woman, with her soft brown hair and guileless blue eyes. She smelled like jasmine, and he felt a stirring deep inside him as he breathed in her fragrance.
“If you’re trying to shock me, then you’ve failed,” she said. “I stopped at a café on my way here and heard all the rumors about your being responsible for your wife’s murder.”
“Then why did you come? Why didn’t you high-tail it out of here when you heard the rumors?”
Some of the color was slowly returning to her cheeks. “Because Melanie needs somebody. Because my brother told me you’re a good man.”
The knot of tension that had been in his chest for weeks eased somewhat at her words. He’d always believed he was a good man, but Erica’s murder had turned him into somebody he scarcely recognized.
“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
