Last Seen.... Carla Cassidy

      “Count your blessings. Some of us without families would give anything for a little bit of that madness and mayhem.”

      Breanna’s heart instantly went out to her partner. Abe had lost his wife two years ago and they’d never had children. At fifty-five years old, his parents were gone and he’d been an only child.

      She placed a hand on his forearm. “Come over to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow. You know they’d love to have you join us.”

      Abe smiled. “Thanks, honey, but I’ve got a date with a basement that needs cleaning.”

      Breanna wrinkled her nose. “You know dinner at my parents’ house would be far more entertaining than cleaning your basement.”

      “True, but it would also be far less productive. Besides, I promised myself if I plowed through the basement I’d take off and do a little fishing.” He pulled into the parking lot in front of the brick building that housed the police department.

      “Well, if you change your mind, the offer stands,” Breanna replied. She and Abe had been partners for the past five years and Breanna thought of Abe as a favorite uncle. Every time he spoke of retirement, Breanna got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

      Thirty minutes later she walked out of the building, eager to get home, to kiss her sweet little girl and get some much needed sleep.

      More than anything she couldn’t wait to get out of the tiny leather skirt and midriff blouse, the black lace hose and the dangerously high spiked heels. She looked like a floozy, which, of course, had been the idea. But, after standing out on a street corner for the past four hours being propositioned, she felt dusty and dirty and wanted a long, hot shower.

      As always, a sense of homecoming engulfed her as the rambling Victorian two-story house came into view. The rest of the houses on the street were dark. It was after two and most people were asleep, but as usual Rachel had left the front porch light on for Breanna. Thank goodness for Rachel.

      She barely gave the tiny cottage on the side of her property a glance as she pulled into the driveway. The place had been empty for months, much to Breanna’s landlord’s chagrin.

      She shut off her car and climbed out. She had only taken a couple of steps toward the house when she froze, an uneasy tickling sensation at the back of her neck. As a cop, she never ignored this nebulous feeling.

      She opened her purse and placed her hand on the butt of the gun resting inside as she looked around. Nothing seemed amiss at the front of the house. There was nobody lurking in the shadows, no reason for her to feel what she felt.

      Then she heard it…the almost imperceptible slap of a bare foot against the grass. She shifted her gaze sideways and that’s when she saw him…coming toward her from out of the shadows in front of the cottage.

      Without hesitation, she pulled the gun from her purse and fell into an official stance, legs apart, gun held steadily before her with both hands.

      “Whoa!” The deep voice broke the silence of the night and he instantly raised his hands out from his sides. “I hope you don’t intend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

      Shadows still clung to him, making it impossible for her to discern his facial features, but she could see the broad width of his shoulders, his slim hips and long legs. “Who are you and what are you doing out here?” she asked as she kept the gun focused on the center of his body.

      “Can I lower my arms without getting shot?” he asked.

      “Not until you answer my questions.”

      “My name is Adam Spencer. I moved into the cottage this evening and I was just sitting on the porch relaxing before going to bed.”

      “Awfully late to be relaxing on a porch. Who did you rent the place from?”

      “His name is Herman DeMoser. He looks like a young Jerry Lewis with Jimmy Durante’s nose.”

      Breanna had never thought about it before, but the description perfectly fit her landlord, Herman. She eyed the stranger for another long moment. “You can put your arms down,” she said, but didn’t lower her gun.

      “I had visions of a welcome wagon greeting me to the neighborhood,” he said wryly. “None of my visions involved a beautiful woman holding me at gunpoint.”

      Suddenly Breanna felt a little silly, aware that she might have overreacted because of her police training. She finally lowered the gun, although she didn’t put it back in her purse. “I apologize. All I saw was a man coming toward me from the shadows and…well…a woman can’t be too careful.”

      “No, I apologize. I should have realized how it would look coming at you in the dark at this time of night.” The shadows that had hidden his features fell away as he stepped closer, into the faint illumination of her porch light.

      Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of his handsome features. Intense blue eyes gazed at her with obvious interest. His dark brown hair had just enough curl to fall impishly over his broad forehead. He had a classic nose over nicely shaped, sensual lips. A small cleft in his chin only added to his attractiveness.

      As she watched, his gaze slid down the length of her, lingering on her bare midriff, then moved slowly down her lace-covered legs. She felt that gaze deep in the pit of her stomach, like a heated caress over her skin.

      It had been a very long time since the sight of a handsome man had caused her heart to beat just a little bit faster, her hands to feel slightly clammy and shaky. She was obviously overtired and her reaction to him made her more than a little bit irritable.

      “It was nice meeting you, but it’s late and I’ve had a long night. I would highly recommend in the future you don’t sneak up on a woman alone in the middle of the night.”

      He nodded. “Point taken. Good night.” He stepped back into the shadows, then turned and walked toward the cottage. A moment later she heard the front door of the small house open, then close.

      Only then did she tuck her gun back into her purse and head for her own front door. As she stepped into the hallway, she kicked off her high-heeled shoes and allowed her toes to splay in the throw rug that covered the gleaming hardwood floor.

      When 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