The grass around where she sat looked undisturbed, with nothing out of place to capture his attention. No gum wrapper, no cigarette butt, nothing that could supply a clue as to who was responsible.
Not your scene, a little voice whispered in his head. This isn’t your problem. You’re on vacation. He backed away. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved. He was simply a guest here; there was absolutely no reason for him to get involved in this crime.
As he turned and saw Daniella silhouetted in the doorway, he hoped to hell he could hang on to his desire to remain uninvolved, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
DANIELLA WATCHED AS SAM headed back toward the house. She felt sick as wave after wave of horror washed over her. As Sam entered the kitchen she fought the irrational impulse to run into his arms, to feel the warmth of his body against hers.
“I called the sheriff. He should be here soon.” She was appalled to hear the quiver in her voice.
Sam took her by the arm and led her to a chair, where she sat and fought back tears. “I was going to take out the trash,” she said. “I’d only taken a couple of steps outside when I saw her.” She fought against a shudder than threatened to consume her body.
“Do you know her?”
She nodded. “Her name is Samantha Walker. She’s the divorced daughter of the mayor of Bachelor Moon.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to ward off the cold horror that still swept through her. “I can’t imagine who did this or what she was doing on my property.”
“Where is everyone else?” He sat in the chair next to hers and the scent of his clean, crisp cologne swept over her. It was oddly comforting.
“Frank and Jeff went home right after dinner, and Matt went out. Surely you don’t think any of them had anything to do with this?”
“I was just curious who was in the house. It looks like she was moved here after she was killed, and she’s been dead for quite a while.”
Daniella felt the burn of tears as a vision of Samantha filled her head. “I’ve never seen somebody like that…dead…murdered.” She fought against a shudder as Macy came into the kitchen clad in her pajamas.
She jumped up from her chair and pasted a smile on her face. “All ready for a tuck-in?”
“Yeah, but I want Mr. Sam to tuck me in, too.” She grabbed Sam’s hand and tugged at him. “Come on, I’ll show you my princess crown.”
Sam looked shocked, but rose to his feet, obviously understanding that Daniella wanted Macy in bed as soon as possible and not out here when the sheriff arrived or where she might get a peek at Samantha’s body.
Macy pulled Sam through the doorway that led to their private quarters. There was a sitting room, a bathroom and two small bedrooms. She followed them into Macy’s bedroom where the little girl crawled into the twin bed, pulled up the pink flowered sheet and patted the mattress beside her. “Here, have a seat, Mr. Sam.”
Sam looked at Daniella, obviously uncomfortable with the whole scene. Still, he eased down on the mattress as Daniella nodded. Macy opened the drawer in her nightstand and withdrew her glittery princess crown.
It was a surreal moment, her daughter proudly showing off her crown while a dead woman lay in the yard. Samantha Walker wasn’t the nicest woman in the world, but Daniella couldn’t imagine somebody wanting to murder her. And why had her body been left here?
“You want to see me wear my crown and do my princess walk?” Macy asked Sam.
“It’s bedtime now,” Daniella said firmly. “There will be another time to show off your princess walk.”
“It’s a pretty crown,” Sam said, as he stood.
“Thank you. It keeps away monsters,” Macy replied.
Daniella took the crown from her daughter and placed it back in the drawer. “Good night,” she said, then kissed Macy’s sweet cheek. “Sleep tight.”
“Good night, princess,” Sam said. A moment later he and Daniella left the bedroom and went back into the kitchen. “Will she get out of bed again?” he asked.
“I doubt it.” Daniella sat in one of the chairs at the small oak table and wondered what was taking the sheriff so long. “Macy has always been one of those unusual kids who loves to sleep. Bedtime has never been a problem with her.”
As he sat in the chair next to her, she was over whelmed by myriad emotions. “I’m so sorry that this has happened,” she said. “This isn’t business as usual for the bed-and-breakfast.”
He smiled, and once again she was struck by his handsomeness. “I didn’t think you arranged this scene strictly for your guests’ entertainment,” he said.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.” She felt sick, as if she’d never be able to dispel the vision of Samantha from her brain.
At that moment a knock came from the front door, and Daniella steeled herself not only for the investigation to come but also to deal with Sheriff Jim Thompson, who she thought was a cranky incompetent.
She was grateful for Sam’s presence just behind her as she opened the door to let Jim inside. “I hope this isn’t some sort of wild goose chase,” he said as he stepped into the foyer.
“I doubt if the dead woman beneath the tree on the side of the house considers this a wild goose chase,” Sam replied.
Jim drew himself up to his banty-rooster height and narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”
“Sam Connelly. I’m a guest here.”
“Jim, she’s been stabbed,” Daniella said. “It’s Samantha Walker.”
Jim’s grizzly gray eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “There’s going to be hell to pay with the mayor. Point me in the right direction and let’s get this investigation underway.”
They were all silent as they walked through the kitchen and Daniella pointed out the door. Sam followed Jim outside while she remained in the kitchen, the horror of the situation back in the center of her brain.
She sat at the table and closed her eyes, but instead of thinking about poor Samantha Walker she found her head filled with thoughts of Sam Connelly. Maybe because it was easier to think about how hot he was instead of how dead Samantha was.
And he was hot. It wasn’t just the fact that his tight jeans showcased slim hips, long legs and a tight butt, and his shoulders appeared wide enough to shoulder any trouble that might come his way. His electric blue eyes held a keen intelligence and a whisper of darkness that was daunting but also intriguing.
She frowned and rubbed the center of her forehead where a headache attempted to blossom. Something about Sam Connelly struck her on a strictly feminine level, made her remember that she was not only a healthy woman with desires, but also a very lonely woman.
The loneliness had grown more intense over the last year, when she’d finally given up ever hearing from her husband, Johnny, again. Sure, she had Macy and Frank and Jeff to fill
