Too Familiar (Fear Familiar Book 2)

by Carolyn Haines

  “Watch out for the bodybuilder who was hanging around it. His name is Ray, and he gives me some bad feelings.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” He gave her a stern look. “You stay put.”

  Cassandra counted to three hundred, slowly, before Adam returned.

  “The car is gone.”

  “What?” Cassandra peered through the windshield. “It was there just a few minutes ago. I was hiding, but I should have heard a car driving by.”

  “Are you certain it was there?” Adam felt strange. What seemed to be reality wasn’t. Dreams foretold the future. Women were dying and cars disappeared. “Maybe it went by and you didn’t hear it.”

  “No.” Cassandra got out of the car and walked straight across the parking lot to where the convertible had been parked. Adam was right. The space beneath the tree was empty. A little-used trail led away from restaurant.

  “I see where he went,” Adam said, only a few steps behind Cassandra.

  “At least I’m not completely losing my mind.”

  “Your dreams are the only clues we have.” Adam reached out to her and stroked her hair. “Sheriff Beaker doesn’t believe in them, but with each passing hour, I believe more and more. And I also know that this isn’t something you volunteered for. You’re as caught up in it as the young women who have died.”

  “You’re a special guy.” Cassandra took the half step across the darkness and into his arms. “A very special man. Let’s go home.”

  They returned to the car and took the highway. “Tomorrow, I need to check on your car. I don’t mind leaving you while I run errands, but I don’t like the idea that you don’t have transportation if you need to come to town. The shop said it should be ready by tomorrow, and we can pick it up.”

  “Good idea. Now that the phone is fixed and my car repaired, I’m back in business.” The startling thought that Adam might leave crossed her mind. He’d stayed because a series of incidents had put him in a position to protect her. Would he continue to stay? He did have a business to run. He had a life that had nothing to do with her. When would he leave? It wasn’t a question she was going to ask.

  As they pulled into her yard, Cassandra caught sight of Familiar on the front porch. He was sitting on the railing as if he’d lived there his entire life.

  “I think I should place an ad about the cat,” she said slowly. “I’ve gotten very attached to him, but what if he’s someone else’s pet, and they’re worried about him?”

  “My opinion is that Familiar could never belong to anyone. He might live with them, but he belongs only to himself.”

  Cassandra laughed softly. “He does give that impression, but there’s something else there. He’s looking for someone. I know you’re going to think I’m crazy for sure, but have you noticed that he watches the news? Not local, but national news.”

  Adam started to laugh, but he checked the impulse. He’d been startled when he found the cat could operate the television. And it was true; Familiar turned it on and off. In fact, the times he’d seen the set on and the cat watching it, a news program had been on.

  “You’re right,” Adam said. “That’s damn amazing.”

  “With everything else going on, I haven’t devoted enough time to Familiar, but I’m going to tomorrow. That cat and I are going to have a little chat.”

  “Find anything interesting out in the dark?” Adam asked the cat as he stroked his back and chin.

  With lightning quick speed, Familiar snagged his hand in a gentle grip.

  “Is that a yes?” Adam asked, laughing as Cassandra unlocked the door. “I think your other guest has sleuthed up some evidence.”

  Once the door was open, Cassandra walked to the rail and picked Familiar up in her arms. “I bet he probably has,” she said, walking in the front door with him. “If only we could get this guy to talk.”

  “If only,” Adam agreed.

  Cassandra opened a can of salmon for Familiar and put fresh water down before she was ready to call it quits for the night. Adam was watching her.

  “Would you like for me to stay in your room tonight?” he asked. “I know you’re worried about the dreams.”

  “I was thinking. Maybe if I didn’t dream, then it couldn’t happen,” Cassandra said carefully. “Do you think?”

  Adam went to her and put his arms around her, holding her close. “I don’t think that for a minute. You have nothing to do with the events, Cassandra. You simply reflect them in your dreams.”

  “Ellen is alive. Even though I witnessed her abduction in my dream, she’s still alive.”

  “Possibly. It could be that the sheriff simply hasn’t found another body yet.”

  That thought hadn’t occurred to Cassandra. “If that’s true, then Sarah is a waste of time.”

  “I’ve considered that. The important thing for you to understand now is that you are a spectator, not a participant. You have nothing to do with events.”

  “Except that I might be able to stop them.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’m not certain of that either way.”

  “I don’t want to dream tonight.”

  “I’ll stay with you.” Adam pressed her closer. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her. And he wanted to arouse her and make her want him.

  Cassandra reacted to the change in the way he held her. His hands shifted only a fraction, an awakening of touch. He had moved from comfort to desire, and her skin tingled with her own barely contained emotions.

  Adam affected her in ways she’d never thought possible. He behaved as the perfect gentleman, the undaunted protector, and she knew instinctively that if she gave the slightest indication that that was the only role she wanted him to play, then he would step back into it. But it wasn’t the only role he wanted to play in her life.

  He wanted her. She saw it in his eyes in tiny moments when he wasn’t aware that she was watching him. He guarded that desire in order to protect her. It was a humbling thought, that he would put her needs before his. As she’d come to know him, she also realized that she’d grown to appreciate so many things about him.

  His hands slid down her back and she sighed softly, momentarily disrupting her thoughts and replacing them with a delicious sensation. That was what she wanted, not to think and weigh and worry. All of her life she’d lived with a need for rational thought. Tonight she wanted to yield to her emotions, her needs. She wanted him. She wanted to feel his chest pressed against hers, skin to skin. She wanted to twine her legs with his against the crisp, cool sheets of her bed.

  His lips caught her neck and a sensation that made her gasp surged through her. Her hands explored his back, the contours of his muscles and the lean planes of his hips.

  She felt his fingers lace into her hair and gently drew back her head until their gazes met. Fire danced in his eyes. She opened her lips slightly for his kiss, inviting him to explore with abandon. She gave herself to the kiss, to the sensations that Adam evoked.

  She felt his fingers on her blouse, working the small buttons. Her hands were busily at work with his shirt. She had to know the feel of him, skin to skin.

  He pushed her shirt down her arms, freeing it quickly, then removed her bra. In a moment she had his shirt untucked and free of his body. At the first brush of his chest against hers, Cassandra reached high to put her arms around his neck. She was stretched against him, reveling in the feel of him.

  “We could finish this in the bedroom,” she whispered against his collarbone.

  “We could,” he agreed, his hands sliding up her ribs to feel the weight of her breasts. “Maybe we should.”

  “That’s the first indecisiveness I’ve ever seen you display,” she said as she trailed kisses along the well-developed muscles of his chest. She slipped her fingers around his hand and drew him after her, one slow step at a time. With each step, she kissed a fraction of an inch lower.

  At the door of her bedroom, she stopped. “Made up your mind yet?” Her eyes were dancing with mischief and
desire.

  “I think so.” Adam smiled. “A few more kisses and I should be positive.”

  Cassandra laughed as they stepped into the bedroom.

  * * *

  The huckleberries were firm as she poured them into the colander to clean. She’d picked them herself. She was humming when she dumped them into the muffin batter. She was still humming when the muffins came out of the oven, hot and delicious.

  The tray was prepared, and she took it to the bedroom.

  “Morning,” she said as she placed it on the chest of drawers while she bent over Adam for a kiss.

  “Morning?” He lifted his eyebrows. “It was midnight only a few minutes ago.”

  “How quickly we forget,” Cassandra said. “And just last night you promised me you’d remember every second.”

  Adam pulled her down onto the bed with him. “I remember. I was hoping you’d show me again, though. There’s this one part that I forget. It comes after we kiss for a long, long time.”

  “Breakfast first.” Cassandra kissed his forehead, his nose, his chin, and finally his lips. “You need to keep up your strength.”

  “I don’t feel weak,” Adam said. He wound his fingers in her hair. “I feel caught in your golden web.”

  “Yes, you’re such a helpless victim.” She laughed and rolled away from him. “I’ve put some special potions in this breakfast, and I can’t let it go to waste. You know, a little mandrake root, a few gnat’s wings, and chicken feathers.” She picked up the tray and put it across his lap. When it was comfortably settled, she took a seat on the bed and picked up her own cup of tea.

  “This is wonderful.” Adam took a bite of a muffin and licked his lips. “Wonderful.”

  “An old family recipe,” Cassandra said with a sinister tone in her voice. “A charm from a fortuneteller.”

  She was about to embellish more when the telephone rang. “Now who could be calling so early,” she said as she got up. “That’s the trouble with getting the phone repaired. People can call us.” She went to the den where the only telephone was located.

  Adam put his cup down. The first thing that crossed his mind was that Sheriff Beaker was calling because he’d found another body—one with shoulder-length chestnut hair. He didn’t give voice to his thoughts. Cassandra was so beautiful, so delightfully carefree this morning. If it were bad news, it would come from someone other than him.

  He heard her say hello, and then there was a pause. A second later, she was standing in the bedroom door.

  “It’s for you.”

  “Me?” Adam was as puzzled as she was. He put the tray aside and went to the phone.

  “Adam, Martin West here. Just thought maybe you’d changed your mind about appearing on my show.”

  “Mr. West, my decision stands. Please don’t call here again.” He was about to hang up when he heard Martin’s voice.

  “Has Ms. McBeth had any more of her dreams?”

  He returned the receiver to his ear. “Those details were told to Sheriff Beaker in confidence. He violated a trust when he repeated them to you. If you continue to bother Ms. McBeth, I’m afraid I’m going to have to speak with the sheriff about the violation of his duties.”

  “Hey, it was just a simple question. You know it’s hard to drum up business for one of these shows.”

  “Please, Mr. West, have some consideration for Ms. McBeth’s desire for privacy.” He replaced the receiver. Adam watched Cassandra’s reaction. Though she tried to hide it, he could see her distaste. “Sorry about that. He’s a determined man.”

  “Forget it,” Cassandra said reasonably. She motioned Adam into the bedroom. “Let’s finish.”

  “Let’s finish breakfast and start something else,” Adam said. He took her shoulders in his hands and kissed her cheek.

  “Adam, I—”

  The shrill ring of the telephone came again.

  “I’m going to disconnect that thing,” she said irritably. “Now what.”

  Adam held up his finger to her lips. “I’ll take this one.” In two strides he was across the room and at the phone.

  “McBeth residence.”

  He looked at Cassandra. “Yes, Sheriff. She’s right here.” He handed her the receiver.

  9

  Cassandra took the telephone in nerveless fingers. She could tell by the expression in Adam’s eyes that Beaker was upset.

  “Hello, Sheriff.”

  “Ms. McBeth, where were you early this morning, about three or four a.m.?”

  Cassandra’s heart skipped as she heard his question. Something terrible had happened. The young woman named Ellen, they must have discovered her body.

  “I was with Mr. Raleigh, here at my home.” There was a pause. “Why?”

  “Are there any witnesses who can verify your whereabouts?” Beaker asked. He sounded tired and angry.

  “No, we were alone. Once again, I’m asking why?” She felt Adam’s hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a wan smile.

  “Sarah Welford was killed in the early morning hours,” Beaker said. “We’re talking with everyone who might have a reason to want to see her dead.”

  “Sarah?” Cassandra stumbled backward from the shock. “Why Sarah? I didn’t see anything in my dream involving her.” She was rocked by confusion. Nowhere in any of her dreams had there been any indication that Sarah Welford would die. “Was she strangled?”

  “No, ma’am, she was not,” Beaker said. “She was run down by a motorist. I was thinking you might be able to tell me something about that.”

  “Me? I’ve never hurt anyone.” Cassandra stumbled slightly as if her knees were buckling.

  Adam took the receiver from Cassandra’s hand. Her fingers could barely hold it.

  “Why are you calling Cassandra? What’s happened?” Adam couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.

  “There’s a possibility Ms. McBeth is involved in Sarah Welford’s death,” Beaker said coldly. “The coroner has set the time of death at four a.m. this morning. I find it strange that Ms. McBeth and Ms. Welford had a run in, and now Ms. Welford is dead. Don’t you find that odd?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Adam snapped back. “Cassandra wouldn’t harm a fly and you know it. She’s trying to help you, she isn’t a murderer.”

  “Evidence points otherwise,” Beaker said. “Would you bring Ms. McBeth into town for questioning?”

  Adam was tempted to say no. He wanted to tell the sheriff what he could do with his questions, but he knew he had no choice. If he didn’t take Cassandra to Sevierville, the sheriff would merely come and get her.

  “We’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Don’t try anything stupid, Raleigh.” The sheriff’s voice was hard.

  “Yeah,” Adam answered as he put the phone down.

  Still stunned, Cassandra took a seat on the arm of the sofa. Familiar went to her and rubbed against her hip. Her fingers absently stroked his back. “Is he charging me?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Why didn’t I dream it?” Cassandra asked. “That poor woman. Maybe it was her all along and I got confused in the dream.” She twisted her hands. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “We don’t know all the facts,” Adam pointed out. “Sarah Welford’s death might not be related at all.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Cassandra said. “You don’t, either.”

  “Beaker didn’t say the word murder, you know,” Adam insisted. “He might be making this more dramatic than it should be. Maybe he’s trying to upset you.”

  Cassandra went to Adam and gently kissed his chin. She stood on tiptoe to do so. His arms circled her and held her to his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thanks.” Adam was the mooring that kept her safe. He was so steadfast, and she was so battered by the shifting winds of her life.

  He kissed the top of her head, letting one hand stroke her hair. “We’ll get this figured out, Cassandra. We will.”

  “One way or the other.” A terrible
darkness settled on her mind. It had been bad enough when she felt she could foresee the murders. Now, though, she wasn’t even much use. Sarah Welford’s death indicated that her “talent” was partial, at best, and perhaps not reliable at all.

  “Could you identify that Ray character if you saw him again?”

  Adam’s question halted her bleak thoughts. Ray. She’d forgotten about him. He was such a sinister figure. Maybe she did have some way to help solve Sarah’s death.

  “I didn’t see his face,” she said. “His body, yes. Very distinctive.”

  “I’m not sure that’s enough,” Adam said carefully. He could tell by the way Cassandra latched onto the idea that it had reawakened her hope. But for criminal purposes, he didn’t know if such an identification was good enough.

  “We might as well face Sheriff Beaker,” Cassandra said, shifting back from the haven of Adam’s chest. “I’ll get dressed.”

  “I wish we could lock the door and stay here until all of this was resolved,” Adam said. He held her close, unwilling to let her go. The feel of her in his arms was something he didn’t want to lose.

  “I’ve spent most of my life doing just that,” Cassandra said. There was no bitterness in her voice, only mild amazement. “I thought I had developed a perfectly reasonable life. I gardened, I walked, I wrote, I studied. Now it seems so…incomplete. I think I was hiding, safe in my own little world with no room for anyone who might hurt me again.”

  Adam couldn’t resist. He stepped closer and brought her back against his chest. His life, too, had been “perfect.” Goal after goal had fallen before his assault. He had his own company, structured and operated the way he felt was best. He had respect, prestige to a certain extent, satisfaction in his work, always invitations to dinners and parties. And a very empty life other than that. Until now.

  “This craziness won’t last forever,” he promised her. “Then, we’re going to talk about the future. Things that we both have been too busy to realize we need.”

  Cassandra lifted her face to his. She stood on tiptoe to offer her kiss. “That’s a promise,” she said when they drew apart. “We’d better go to town.”