Scene of the Crime: Bachelor Moon. Carla Cassidy

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Scene of the Crime: Bachelor Moon - Carla  Cassidy


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job.”

      “Hopefully he is, because I don’t want to go to jail for something I had nothing to do with.”

      “I wouldn’t let that happen,” he said gruffly.

      His words created a ball of warmth in her stomach, a warmth she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Watch out, she told herself. He’s just a guest and nothing more.

      “Mr. Sam!” Macy yelled. “Watch this!” She did a series of cartwheels and then stood proudly, waiting for his response.

      “That’s great,” he said, as if surprised that she would want his approval.

      Macy ran up to the porch. “I didn’t get to show you my princess walk last night, so I’ll do it now.”

      Before he or Daniella could respond, Macy tore into the house where Daniella knew she was fetching her crown.

      “She has a lot of energy,” Sam said.

      Daniella laughed. “That’s probably the understatement of the century. She’s opinionated and maybe more than a little bit spoiled, but she really is a good kid. She has a tremendous heart and she loves people.”

      At that moment the door opened and Macy pranced out, her glittery crown firmly in place on top of her head. “Are you ready, Mr. Sam?”

      “I think I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied.

      Macy ran to the far end of the porch. “This is my official princess walk.” The walk was less princess and more fairy sprite as she danced her way back to them.

      “I do believe that was the finest princess walk I’ve ever seen,” Sam said when she’d finished.

      Daniella flashed him a grateful smile and then looked at her daughter. “And now it’s time for the princess to go take a bath. It’s not nice for a princess to smell like a day of grit and grime.”

      Macy looked at Sam. “And maybe tomorrow I can have a princess tea party, and you can come and be my guest of honor.”

      “No time for tea parties tomorrow,” Daniella said. “I have new guests arriving, and besides, Mr. Sam has other things to do.”

      “Okay, then we’ll have a tea party another day,” Macy said agreeably. She disappeared into the house to get ready for her bath and Daniella once again turned to look at Sam.

      “I’m sorry, she seems to have taken a liking to you.”

      He offered her a small smile and gazed out in the distance. “Guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

      No, there was no accounting for taste, she mentally agreed. And whatever had bitten her daughter when it came to Sam Connelly had bitten Daniella just a little bit, as well.

      “How long have you been an FBI agent?” she asked, as she relaxed against the back of the wicker chair.

      He turned back to look at her, and as always she found the blue of his eyes intoxicating. “I joined the agency when I was twenty-two, fresh out of college and eager to catch the bad guys.”

      “What exactly is it that you do?” Usually with guests she kept her distance, didn’t try to find out personal details about them except what they liked to eat and how they liked their rooms kept. But, she wanted to know more about this man with his eyes that alternately filled with humor and darkened with demons. Besides, talking about him was far better than thinking about the horror show her life had become over the last twenty-four hours.

      “I’m a profiler,” he replied.

      “So you profile killers?” she asked with interest.

      “Actually, profiling starts with us looking closely at the victims of crimes. We learn everything we can about them and that gives us an idea of the killer. Then we try to get into the head of the person who committed the crime. We try to figure out what drives them, what wants or needs they have and finally what weakness they might possess that would allow us to catch them.”

      “Must be fascinating.”

      “It is,” he agreed. “It’s also intense and all-consuming and takes me to some very dark places.”

      “Your parents must be very proud of you.” She noticed the tension that had begun to radiate from him as he spoke of his work.

      “My parents are dead.” His tone was flat, emotion less.

      “Oh, I’m sorry.”

      He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

      An awkward silence fell between them as he once again directed his gaze into the distance. Dusk was falling quickly, layering the dark shadows of approaching night all around. She knew she should go inside. She had a ton of things to do for the new arrivals the next day, but she was reluctant to leave the porch, to leave Sam.

      “Bachelor Moon,” he said, breaking the silence. “It’s kind of an odd name. How did it come about?”

      She smiled. “Legend has it that Larry Bridges, our founding father, was standing in the center square one evening beneath a full moon. Larry was a confirmed bachelor, but that night a mysterious, beautiful woman appeared, and within six months they were married. He named the town Bachelor Moon. Legend has it that when a single man stands in that particular place in the town square beneath a full moon he will be wed within six months. There’s even a statue denoting the specific place to stand.”

      “And I assume this legend brings its fair share of tourists to the area?”

      She smiled. “That’s what legends are for.” Once again she thought that she should go inside, that Macy needed her bath so she could be tucked into bed.

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