Last Seen.... Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ she’d first viewed the house for the possibility of renting, it had been a mess. Abused by former tenants, neglected over the course of time, the Victorian beauty seemed destined to remain abandoned for the rest of its days.

      Breanna had seen the potential and had come to an agreement with Herman. For the next three years she would pay a minimal rental fee a month and she would do all the repair work at her own expense.

      Since she had moved in, the house had slowly transformed itself thanks to the labor of her family. Her elder brother, Clay, had helped sand and refinish the floors. Her older sister, Savannah, and her mother had wallpapered and painted and Breanna’s father had rebuilt the front porch and seen to the painting of the outside of the house.

      Even though she’d only been in the house two years, the place had quickly become home and she now couldn’t imagine living any place else.

      As she walked through the living room, she was surprised to see the kitchen light on and hear the faint sound of a television playing.

      Rachel Davies, Breanna’s live-in nanny, sat at the kitchen table, staring at the small portable television on the counter.

      “Can’t sleep?”

      Rachel jumped in surprise and whirled around to face Breanna. “You scared me,” she exclaimed.

      Breanna smiled apologetically. “I just assumed you heard me come in.” She sat in the chair opposite Rachel. “Nervous about tomorrow?”

      Rachel smiled and tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear. “More than I thought,” she admitted.

      The next day Rachel was going on her first date in almost two years. “It’s just a picnic, Rachel, and David is a very nice man.”

      “I know…but I can’t help but remember that I thought Michael was a nice man.”

      Breanna reached across the table and covered her friend’s hand with her own. “That’s in your past, and now it’s time for you to look forward to a great future filled with love and respect.”

      Rachel squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

      Breanna pulled her hand back and laughed. “You seem to have it backward. I can’t imagine what I would do without you! And speaking of that, how was my little munchkin today?”

      Rachel smiled. “Wonderful, as usual. I swear, Breanna, Maggie is the brightest, sweetest child I’ve ever known.”

      Pride swelled up inside Breanna. “And you are obviously a woman of enormous judgement, which is why I hired you to take care of her in the first place.”

      “By the way, we have a new neighbor in the cottage. I watched him unloading this evening and he’s a definite hunk!”

      “I know. I met him.”

      Rachel frowned. “You did? When?”

      “Just a few minutes ago when I pulled my gun on him.” Breanna tried not to think about that swirl of heat that had swept over her as Adam Spencer had looked at her.

      “You pulled your gun on him?” Rachel asked in surprise.

      “He came out of the darkness at me without warning. I didn’t know who he was or what he wanted.”

      “And what did he want?”

      Breanna shrugged. “I guess just to introduce himself to me.”

      Rachel smiled wickedly. “I’d like to hold him at gunpoint and have my way with him.”

      Breanna laughed. “This from a woman who is too nervous to sleep because she has a date with a preacher tomorrow.”

      “You know what they say about the preacher’s kids…they’re the wildest ones in town.”

      Breanna smiled. “Not in this case. David Mandell is a nice guy.” She stood, suddenly exhausted and more than a little eager to kiss her sweet sleeping daughter on her cheek. “I’m off to bed and if you’re wise, you’ll do the same. You don’t want to scare David tomorrow with huge black bags under your eyes.”

      Rachel nodded. “I’ll be up in just a few minutes.”

      The two said their good-nights, then Breanna climbed the wide staircase. She peeked into her daughter’s bedroom just to assure herself that all was well, then went directly into her own bedroom and the private bath.

      She never kissed her daughter when she had the stink of the streets on her, when her skin crawled from all the men who had whispered dirty things to her, leered at her with hungry eyes.

      Minutes later she stepped out of the hot shower, dried off, then pulled on her comfortable cotton nightshirt. It took several minutes to brush and dry her long, thick dark hair, then she quietly crept into Maggie’s room.

      A cartoon character night-light illuminated the area around the twin bed, and Maggie’s little face peeked out from beneath the covers.

      Breanna sat in the chair at the edge of the bed and breathed in the scent of the room…the sweet mixture of peach bubble bath and childhood.

      She loved to watch her daughter as she slept, loved the way Maggie’s little cupid bow lips puffed out with each breath, the way her curly brown hair decorated the pillow.

      Kurt Randolf had been a bad choice for a boyfriend, a worse choice for a husband, but his genes and Breanna’s had combined to create the miracle Breanna had named Maggie.

      When she was awake, she was a bundle of energy and curiosity, a delight that made all the heartache of Kurt worthwhile.

      Breanna stood, leaned over and kissed Maggie’s sweet cheek, then left the bedroom and headed for her own room across the hall. She turned out her light and used the illumination of the moonlight streaking in through the window to guide her into bed.

      She had just pulled the sheet up and snuggled in when the phone rang. She quickly snatched up the receiver on her nightstand, dread coursing through her. Good news rarely came at this hour of the night.

      “Hello?”

      Silence.

      “Hello?” she repeated, then a soft click greeted her. The line filled with a woman’s voice singing the standard lullaby of “Rock-A-Bye Baby.”

      Breanna knew instantly it was some sort of a recording and so she remained silent, listening to the soft melodic voice.

      When the last note faded away she heard a second click. The line remained open and she knew somebody was there because she could hear breathing.

      “Who is this?” She sat up in bed. “What do you want? You must have a wrong number.”

      A noise answered her. She wasn’t sure but it sounded like a male sob, then the line went dead.

      She held the receiver for a long moment, fighting the sense of unease that crept through her. Just a wrong number, she told herself as she finally hung up the phone.

      Rather СКАЧАТЬ