Don t Look Back

by Margaret Daley

  While Jameson called his friend, Cassie looked up a locksmith. Until she got new locks, she wouldn’t feel safe in the house, and now she wasn’t even sure she would after that. The thought that someone had come in and carefully gone through their things scared her, and yet she couldn’t let her mother see her fear.

  “Jim will be here shortly. Maybe he’ll tell us where he is with the investigation.”

  “I don’t think they have much. I know Lauren and Dee, my friends, have been involved in a Web site, trying to find all the alumni from ten years ago.”

  “Any women you know missing?”

  “There are some. Do you want something to drink while we wait? I’m getting some iced tea.” Her throat parched, she opened the refrigerator and took a blue pitcher out.

  “Sure.” He went to the cabinet, selected two tall glasses and put them on the counter near Cassie.

  The automatic gesture spoke of how familiar Jameson had become with her house after spending the past few days assisting her and her mother with the funeral arrangements. She appreciated all he’d done, couldn’t help wondering what had prompted it.

  After sitting at the table and taking a sip of her tea, she looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to stay, especially if you have something to do. We’ve taken up so much of your time lately. You’ve got classes and papers to grade. I can take care of the police.”

  “I know you can, but I want to stay.”

  “Why?”

  He took his time bringing the glass to his lips and taking a large swallow of his drink. “Because I feel I should have been there for Scott when he called me for help.”

  “You were out of town. You said you called him when you got back. What more could you have done? None of us could have anticipated what happened to him.”

  “But I didn’t tell you that he had called me as I was getting ready to leave. I let the answering machine take the call.”

  “Oh. What did Scott say?”

  “He wanted to talk to me about the story he was working on. He didn’t sound scared or anything. He just sounded like he needed some advice.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to him?”

  He averted his gaze for a long moment, and when he looked up, there was a bleak expression in his eyes. “The truth?”

  “Always.”

  “You scare me.”

  “I do?”

  Avoiding looking at her, he wiped the perspiration off the outside of his glass. “You make me feel things I have no right to feel.”

  Cassie’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly snapped it closed before he saw her incredulous expression. She didn’t know what to say to his declaration. He made her feel things she’d never felt before, and she wanted to explore what was happening between them. But he obviously didn’t. Hurt burrowed deep into her heart.

  Silence stretched between them; the only sound heard in the kitchen was the loud ticking of the clock on the wall. The noise grated on her nerves.

  Finally she said, “What am I supposed to say to that? You shouldn’t feel guilty because you didn’t talk to Scott when he first called you? You shouldn’t. You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

  “If I had talked to him, I’d at least know what he was working on. I might have even been able to prevent his death.”

  “How? No one could stop my brother when he was following a lead. He thought he was invincible.” The pain behind her eyes increased. She wanted to roll the cold glass across her forehead, but instead she took several gulps of the iced tea. “We don’t even know if the piece he was working on was what got him killed. Remember, he’s angered a few people with his recent articles.” Cassie caught sight of the telephone book lying open to the yellow pages. “I need to call a locksmith.”

  She shot to her feet and punched in the numbers of the one she’d found earlier. As the phone rang, the doorbell chimed. “Can you get that?”

  While Jameson left the kitchen, the locksmith answered and Cassie quickly persuaded the man to come to her house later that afternoon. When she hung up, Jameson returned with a man dressed in a black suit and striped tie.

  “This is Detective Jim Anderson of the Magnolia Falls police. Jim, this is Cassie Winters. She’s sure someone went through her house while we were at her brother’s funeral.”

  “Scott Winters?”

  “Yes, we buried him a few hours ago.” If she said the words enough, the reality of Scott being gone might sink in.

  “I was so sorry to hear about his death. I’m a big basketball fan and loved seeing him play for the college. It was tragic when he hurt himself in that play-off game.”

  Her legs weak, Cassie sat again at the table before she collapsed, while Jameson and Jim each took a seat across from her.

  The detective removed from an inside coat pocket a small notebook much like the one her brother had used. “What’s missing?”

  Cassie frowned. “I don’t know that anything is missing, at least nothing obvious.”

  Jim looked around, his gaze fixing upon the back door. “Then how do you know someone broke in?”

  “Items weren’t where they should be and my brother’s key to this house is missing from his effects.”

  “Are you aware that the Savannah police are investigating his death as a murder?” Jameson asked, leaning back against the counter behind his friend.

  “Yes, I’d heard. You think this has something to do with his murder?”

  Cassie nodded. “Why else would anyone have broken in and not taken anything?”

  “True.” The detective jotted something down in his pad. “I’d like you to go through your house, though, and make sure nothing is missing, especially jewelry, silver, small stuff that would be easy to carry.”

  “I will, but we don’t have any valuable jewelry or silver.” Her mother had sacrificed everything for her and Scott’s sports training.

  “Still, you need to check. We have to rule out a simple robbery. Why do you think someone would want to kill your brother?”

  “His stories sometimes stepped on certain people’s toes.”

  “And you think that’s the case here?”

  Cassie ran her hand through her hair. “Maybe. I don’t know what to think. All I really know is that Scott is dead.” Frustration churned her stomach and tap-danced against her temples.

  “What was he working on?”

  “We don’t know,” Jameson answered, his own irritation ringing in his voice. “It could be something that’s already appeared in the paper. It could even be about the skeleton found at the college library.”

  “If he found out anything regarding that, then he found more than we have. We don’t even have an ID on the skeleton yet. We know it is a female, probably early twenties, and that she has been in the ground ten years. She had recently been pregnant. We know little that would point to what happened except there was blunt-force trauma to her head.”

  A picture of her brother’s head injury materialized in her mind. The air rushed from her lungs. “Someone hit Scott over the head. The police haven’t found the weapon.”

  “And you think there may be a connection?”

  Jameson pushed away from the counter and came to the table. “Jim, who knows, but Scott’s laptop, recorder and notepad are missing. All the key places where he would keep information on a story.”

  “So he might have been looking into the murder from ten years ago? Anything else?”

  “Jameson and I saw Scott interviewing some of the basketball team last week.”

  Jim wrote basketball team down on his paper. “This is the first year we’ve got a chance to go to the play-offs since Scott was on the team. It doesn’t surprise me he would want to do a story on the subject.”

  But it surprised her. Cassie couldn’t forget how much her brother had avoided anything having to do with basketball after his accident. “I don’t know. He didn’t follow the team these past few years.”

  The detective’s eyebrows rose. “He didn�
�t? Strange. From what I heard, he lived for basketball.”

  “Not after he was hurt.”

  Jim flipped his notebook closed. “Tell you what, I’ll ask around and see if anyone knows anything about what Scott was working on while you go through the house to see if anything is missing.” He stood and withdrew a business card. “Let me know what you find.”

  Cassie took the card he slid toward her and came to her feet. “I will. I’m changing all the locks. After the locksmith leaves, I’ll do a thorough search.”

  The detective made his way toward the front door. “I’ll contact the Savannah police and let them know what’s going on.”

  When the man left, a van pulled up to the curb. As the locksmith with his toolbox walked toward the house, Cassie murmured, “I wish I knew what was going on.”

  Jameson placed his hands on her shoulders. “So do I. I’m going to do my own asking around. Some of the basketball players are in my classes. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “And I’ll talk with Dee and Lauren and see who is still missing.”

  He leaned close to her ear as the locksmith mounted the steps to the porch. “You know Jim wouldn’t be too happy if he thought we were investigating on our own.”

  His warm breath fanned her neck and caused a shiver to cascade through her. “Someone came into my house. I won’t feel safe until I find out what’s going on.”

  “And I’m not going to let you do it by yourself.”

  “Did you find Scott’s notebook?” The voice coming through the phone crackled with tension.

  The killer gripped the receiver. “No. I needed more time to look.”

  “It could point to us. Find it!”

  “I’ll keep an eye on Cassie and Jameson. The mother isn’t a threat. They are.”

  “Man, this place is packed,” Dee Owens said, surveying the tables and couches full of students a week later at the Half Joe.

  Cassie cradled her large mug of green tea, its warmth chasing away the chill that had clung to her since the day of Scott’s murder.

  “Why did you want to meet here?” Lauren Owens leaned into the table, pitching her voice low. “It’s always so crowded. I’m surprised we even got a table.”

  Cassie shrugged, not sure herself except that she couldn’t forget that evening she’d spent with Jameson at the Half Joe, when she had seen Scott for the last time. That was when everything started. “I guess I wanted to go down memory lane. It seems to have worked with you and Seth.”

  Lauren displayed her engagement ring. “I’m doing this a lot lately.”

  Will I ever show one off to my friends? Cassie immediately thought of Jameson, and his statement about being scared of his feelings for her. Why doesn’t he think he deserves to be happy?

  “You should have to be her sister and listen to her go on and on about Seth and his son,” Dee said with a chuckle.

  “I’m so glad you two are finally together.”

  Lauren shook her head when Dee held up a plate of cookies and offered her one. “Although I love talking about Seth and Jacob, I’m pretty sure that isn’t the reason you invited Dee and me to join you here. What’s going on?”

  “You know how sorry we are about Scott’s death,” Dee added, nibbling on a peanut butter cookie. “I’m doing some PR now for Magnolia College, and since he went here I’ve had to field some press questions concerning his murder, especially so soon after the skeleton was found. Even though he wasn’t killed here, he’s one of our own and the town is still reeling from everything that has happened lately.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to y’all about,” Cassie said.

  “Scott’s murder?”

  Cassie glanced at Lauren. “Well, no, not exactly. The skeleton found under the library sidewalk.”

  Dee frowned. “I wish I could forget it.”

  “You two have been involved with the Web site trying to locate the missing alumni. Have you discovered anything? Who haven’t you found?”

  Lauren flipped her long dark hair behind her shoulder. “There are still some women we haven’t heard from. A few we have leads on where they are. Josie Skerritt is supposed to be living in Europe, but we haven’t tracked her down yet. Also the same for Payton Bell, who was last heard of in Germany.”

  “Maybe Payton and Josie are together or have run into each other.” Dee finished one of the cookies and eyed the last one on the plate. “Don’t forget Tamara Landi and Paige Tatum. No one has talked to them in years.”

  “Didn’t Paige marry our senior year?” Cassie took another sip of her tea.

  Dee nodded. “She married and divorced Will Blake, then disappeared.”

  “I don’t blame her. I think Will abused her, though she would never say anything.” Lauren crossed her feet.

  “Where’s Will?” Cassie recalled having a class with Will and the looks he would send her even though he was married at the time Paige.

  “He owns the In and Out Mart on Peach Street. He bought it not too long ago from the family who ran it for years.” Lauren finished her drink. “I saw him in the store a few months back.”

  Cassie sat up straight. “Will owns the In and Out Mart? Scott had a business card from there the day he was killed.”

  “Yeah, Will likes to give them out. That day I saw him, he gave me one. He always thought he was the big man on campus and still tries to act that way.”

  “I’m glad Paige had the courage to get out of that relationship before he really hurt her.” Cassie had once seen the bruises on Paige’s arms, as if someone had grabbed her really hard.

  “Still, I wonder where she is.” Lauren pushed her cup away from her.

  Dee’s forehead puckered in a frown. “Probably as far from here as possible. Will had a temper, and he wasn’t too happy about her leaving him.”

  Lauren pointed to a corner table at the café. “Remember that time he stormed in here and tried to drag her out?”

  Cassie winced. “Oh, do I! Jameson stepped in and made Will leave—without Paige.” That had been just another reason why Cassie thought Dr. Jameson King was a knight in shining armor, always coming to a damsel’s rescue.

  “I think that was the last straw for Paige,” Dee said, snatching up the last remaining cookie, to which Lauren gave her sister a reproachful look. “Okay, I know I have a weakness for sweets. I’m not as nutritionally minded as you are.”

  Her younger sister laughed. Turning her attention back to Cassie, Lauren asked, “Why the interest in who’s missing?”

  “I’m trying to figure out the last story Scott was working on.”

  Lauren pulled her wallet out of her purse. “He did come talk to me about the Web site a few weeks back, and I gave him a list of who was still missing. We even talked about him writing a feature story on the missing women, asking where they are now.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  Lauren’s eyes grew round. “You didn’t ask. Do you think that a story led to his murder?”

  Cassie pushed her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Then why are you looking into it? That could be dangerous.”

  Taking a deep breath, Cassie knew she had to confide fully in her friends. “Someone killed my little brother. If I can find anything to help the police, I will. You should know, too, that someone, possibly the same person, searched my mother’s house the day of the funeral.”

  Dee glanced around her, then asked in a loud whisper, “He did? What did he take?”

  “Nothing. That’s why I think it’s connected to Scott’s murder.”

  “What would you have they would want?”

  “That’s a very good question, Lauren, and if I had the answer to it, I probably would know who murdered Scott.”

  Dee patted Cassie’s hand. “Please be careful. We’ve had enough dead bodies. I don’t want any more, so watch your back.”

  “I’ll be careful. And Jameson is helping me.”

  “Ah.”

>   Cassie threw Lauren an exasperated look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I remember that crush you had on him in college. Now that he’s a free man and you’re both adults, I say go for it.”

  That’s just it. He isn’t a free man. Cassie kept her thoughts to herself, but she remembered the sadness that lurked beneath his surface. “We’re just friends.”

  Lauren chuckled. “Sure.”

  If she said it enough, Cassie hoped she could convince herself.

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  SIX

  S itting in the bleachers, Jameson watched the college basketball players running up and down the court during practice. He noted that Marcus Reed could be a top round pick in the NBA. He was even better than his brother, Kevin. He had the control and precision that Scott had had when he was playing for the team.

  Why had Scott been talking to the members of the basketball squad just days before his death? In the break between his afternoon and evening classes, Jameson had decided to drop by the gym and check out the team, hopefully catch a moment to speak with a few players.

  It wasn’t that unusual for faculty to watch practice. But if anyone asked why he was here, he was prepared to say he wanted to see one of the students he advised. Sam Collins had more potential off the court as a journalist major than on it as a player. They had a good relationship. He decided to start with Sam and see if he could discover what Scott had been after.

  At the end of practice, after saying something to Zachary Kirkland, the head coach, Sam jogged over to the bleachers. “Hi, Dr. King. What do you think of our chances this year?”

  “Impressive, if everyone remains healthy and injury free.”

  Sam sat in front of Jameson, twisting around to look up at him. “That’s always the problem. Injuries can do a team in.”

  “Let’s hope not this season. You all have had a run of bad luck the past few years.”

  “Yeah, three, but I feel good about this year.”

  “It seemed to start with Scott Winters’s injury.”

  Sam scratched his head. “You’re right. You know, I talked with him two weeks ago. I was a freshman when he was a senior. I wished I could play like he did, before his injury.”