Throbbing like a sore tooth, Cassaundra Reynolds pulled off highway ___ onto Meander Road
Page 17
Mother. Janneth stifled the sigh that automatically formed. She’d always hated that word, because it had a way of adding years to a woman’s age, and that was years she didn’t need. Careful of her freshly manicured nails, she touched the golden Coronation Coach, moving it forward a bit as she remembered that once Cassaundra turned thirteen, she’d never called Janneth anything else. “We’re fine, darling. Missing you, as usual.”
“Why are you calling?” Cassaundra’s voice was hurtful.
Bravely, Janneth ignored the tone. “Darling, it’s almost Christmas, and I wanted to be sure you were coming home.”
“For Christmas?” The words soared high with disbelief. “I can’t remember the last time I was there for Christmas. I haven’t been home at all in over two years. Why now?”
“Because you haven’t been home in two years, and I can’t remember our last Christmas together, either,” Janneth answered smoothly, wishing she’d been able to better mold her eldest. “And I have a wonderful surprise for you. Your sister is marrying Dr. Thomas Baxter on New Year’s Eve, and she wants you to be a bridesmaid.”
“This is rather sudden, isn’t it? Doesn’t it take more than a few weeks to prepare for the wedding of Alexandra Reynolds-Nicholas?” Cassaundra had always disapproved of Alexandra adding their stepfather’s name, and she was once more making it plain with her words.
A swell of panic caused Janneth’s heart to flutter. This wasn’t the way the conversation was supposed to go. Why couldn’t Cassaundra be easier to manipulate—like her sister?
Quickly she glanced around the perfectly appointed room. The “morning room,” she’d named it when they bought the house, but maybe she should have called it simply “Janneth’s room.” Who cared if, for the time being, she was the only one to enjoy the seasonal decorating she’d had done in there? Just the Llano ornaments on the tree in that room were enough to brighten any Christmas. Janneth forced a light chuckle. “Oh, you know how impulsive young people can be. They just want a small, impromptu affair. Nothing special. But even though it’s going to be a small wedding, he’s planning a wonderful honeymoon for her. He’s taking her to Bali for a month.”
Again Cassaundra paused, as if she could smell the lie through the phone lines. Of course this was sudden. Janneth hadn’t realized she needed Cassaundra home until just yesterday. But if she could get her there for Christmas and the wedding, it would be worth all the trouble.
“I don’t know, Mother. Christmas is our busiest season. I might be able to get away the day after.”
But that would be too late. “Darling, you have to have your fittings, and then there are all the prenuptial parties. You can’t miss them.” She held her breath, hoping Cassaundra hadn’t heard the desperation.
“No, Mother—”
Distracted with her fear, Janneth ignored Howard’s last order and blurted, “Surely you have some vacation time built up, and your father and I will be only too happy to pay your way. Naturally.”
“Shouldn’t you check with my stepfather before you speak for him?” Cassaundra’s voice was grim in her reminder that Howard was not her father. The child had never been grateful for his presence in their lives, when in reality, he’d saved them all from becoming outcasts in the very restrictive circle in which they moved. Without him, their lives would have been so different. In fact, they would have been destroyed.
“He truly thinks of you as his daughter, just as he does Alexandra. We want you to come home.” At least, that was what he claimed a very long time ago. And if Cassaundra would only behave as a daughter should...
“I don’t know, Mother. I’ll have to speak with Miriam.”
At the hint of surrender in Cassaundra’s voice, Janneth was finally able to relax. She was going to fall in line, as she should. She would come home for the entire holiday, and then Howard would realize a few important things. “Wonderful, darling! I can’t wait for you to get here. Let me know when you can leave and I’ll make all the arrangements. I must run now. Kiss, kiss.”
****
Cassie awoke for the third night in a row, drenched in sweat, her throat sore from screaming and the same dream filling her mind. Turning on the lights, she took a deep breath, then fought the sobs building within her.
Everything’s all right. There’s no one here. It was only a dream. Forcing herself to lie down, she tried to relax. Maybe, in a few hours, she could drift back to sleep.
But she couldn’t sleep—she must think. It’s not just a dream—it’s the same dream. Why am I having it again?
An unexpected knock startled her, causing her stomach to tense as she grabbed the pillow and held it like a weapon. Maybe if she didn’t answer, whoever it was would think she was asleep and go away. But as if he could hear her thoughts, the knock came again, louder this time. “Cassie? It’s me, Keegan. Are you up?”
Relief filled her, and ignoring what she was wearing, she dropped the pillow and hurried to open the door. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
Concerned, he stepped inside and glanced around the room. When he saw she was alone, he relaxed visibly, then focused on her. His gaze heated as it traveled down the flimsy T-shirt she wore, then jerked back to her face. He swallowed visibly. “I-I was just checking the grounds when I saw your light come on. Are you all right?”
A tiny thrill raced through her. Since they’d made love three nights ago, she’d seen so little of him, she was beginning to wonder if he’d been disappointed. She motioned him to the chair near the Christmas tree as she perched on the arm of the couch. “I had a nightmare that woke me.”
“You’ve had them before, haven’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Anguish nearly overwhelmed her whenever she allowed the horrible dreams that still lived in her mind to creep back. Since she was thirteen, she’d had dreams that had come terrifyingly true. And each one still remained there, as fresh as if it had just happened.
If only she could take a vacation from herself. Her life. Her gift. The revelations. But no matter where she went, the problem went with her. Dragging her down. Forcing her to live vicarious experiences she should never have known.
But she’d never before had the same one three nights in a row. What could it mean?
As if the words had been spoken in her mind, she knew. She drew a ragged breath. “There are two this time. That’s why the scream repeats when I’m trying to breathe, why the dream keeps coming back.”
“You’ve got to stop thinking about it, or you won’t be able to go to sleep again for the rest of the night.” She watched his mouth as he half-whispered words. The lips that had kissed her, and sent all awareness from her mind. His touch had turned her to pulsating liquid, then wiped away all the dreams and worries and horrors, and left in their place a glowing heat that radiated like the sun each time she allowed herself to travel there.
Trying to focus, she slid her tongue between her lips to wet them, then swallowed hard. The throb starting between her legs made it hard to think.
His face carefully blank, he watched her. “I’d better leave so you can get some sleep.”
Fear contracted her stomach, causing her to grip the chair hard. “Do you have to go? If I’m by myself, I know I won’t be able to sleep. Can’t you stay and talk for a little bit?”
For a moment, she thought his eyes kindled, but it must have been a trick of the light because with a blink, the heat was gone. “You get into bed and try to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”
Disappointed he just wanted to talk, she crawled back into the sofa-bed and pulled the sheet to her neck. One by one, she relaxed her muscles as he chatted in a low voice, intentionally making conversation that didn’t require an answer. As he continued, the words became a long-playing melody. Slow, seductive, intimate music, undulating with rhythm and consequence that should be danced to...but only with...someone you loved...
The air smelled of dirt...and tasted of fear. Darkness dominated—
No! Not again!
Gasping for air, she forced her eyes open. When she saw Keegan was still in the chair, although he’d fallen asleep, her fear eased a little. Grateful for his presence, she quietly padded across the floor. In the dimly lit kitchen, she poured a glass of milk and sat down at the table. So far the monster had killed three women. If the dream haunting her was really and truly about something that was going to happen, there would soon be five. And five dead women definitely made for a serial killer.
Why hadn’t the police made it public? Why weren’t they asking for help from the citizenry and warning women to trust no one? Fear of a panic?
They needed a panic! Someone must warn women that there was a person right there in their “safe” little town who was as dangerous as a rabid dog. And, just like an ill and dangerous animal, he needed to be stopped in any way possible.
Someone had to warn them, even if it meant going to the papers herself.
As she thought about explaining what she knew to the press, her breath froze in her lungs. Talk to the newspaper voluntarily? If she did, they would want to know how she knew. Explaining what she knew about the first two women was easy enough, but the third woman’s body still hadn’t been found. And as far as she knew, the last two hadn’t yet been kidnapped. How could anyone understand unless she admitted to the world she was psychic?
Expose what she’d worked so hard to keep hidden all these years? Subject herself to the jeers, the disbelief, and stark revulsion her gift generated? A sense of dread started at her shoulders and rolled down her spine.
No way. She couldn’t subject herself to that. She wouldn’t go through being a freak for everyone to stare at. Not for anyone.
But what if the dreams won’t stop?
The thought sent a shockwave through her. Fisting her hands, she surged to her feet, knocking over her glass and spilling what was left of the milk.
Grabbing a towel, she sopped up the mess. She needed to leave Stone Hill—that was the only solution. That was the only way she could get through this and keep her sanity.
But what about the others?
Stifling the voice screaming inside her, she rushed to find her suitcase. Even if she didn’t know where she could go and what she could do—she must get away before her conscience forced her into something self-destructive.
While trying to make as little noise as possible, she opened the suitcase on the floor and began throwing in clothes. The packing wasn’t neat, but she didn’t care. Sheer terror, licking the edges of her mind, wouldn’t back off long enough to make it neat or logical. She’d just have to trust to luck and Wal-Mart to see that she had the necessities when she got wherever she was going.
All she knew was she had to get out of there before her picture was on the front page of the paper along with pictures of the three dead woman. Or would it be five?
“What are you doing?”
Keegan’s sleep-soft voice sent a fresh wave of alarm through her. She’d hoped he wouldn’t awaken before she was finished packing. But she couldn’t let him stop her, no matter how hard he tried. This was a fight for her life. And her sanity. “I’m leaving.”
Chuckling easily, he stayed in her corduroy chair—her favorite for curling up when she was reading. Just one of the treasures she’d have to leave behind. “I’ve had some interesting responses when I did someone a favor, but this is a whole new one.”
Confused, she paused long enough to stare at him. He thought she was packing because he’d stayed with her? “This isn’t about you. I’ve just got to leave town.” Turning her back to him, she tossed several more shirts into the bag.
He caught her hand, forcing her to stop. But when he tried to pull her into his lap, she dug in her heels. Why now, when she’d decided to leave? Why not earlier, when she’d thrummed with need for him? Well, she wasn’t staying. Not even for him. And getting that close to him again would definitely weigh in heavily for a stay.
His gaze, brown as polished leather in the daylight but looking almost black in the dim light of predawn, burned into her. “Tell me why you think you’ve got to leave.”
“Three women have died and no one is doing anything about it, that’s why. The police haven’t warned the women of this area to be careful, since they’re afraid they might cause a panic. Well, guess what? I know, and I’m panicked.”
He dipped one eyebrow as his gaze darted to the suitcase. “You’ve known about the three women for a while—that’s nothing new. Why are you doing all this?”
“Because two more women are going to be kidnapped, tortured, and murdered. Because if the police won’t do something about it, I’ll have to. And if I do, then everyone will know that I’m—” Biting off the last word, she jerked from his grasp while wishing she could reel back the last sentence.
His gaze narrowed. “Everyone will know...what? That women are dying? They should know. That you’re concerned? What’s wrong with that? I don’t understand why you feel you have to leave.”
“Because I don’t want to be forced to go public!” Her shout after his quiet words, and the ensuing silence, was like an unexpected explosion, leaving her ears empty and throbbing—much like her heart.
He waited until she was about to turn back to her packing. “But if you know more women are going to die...?”
Fighting to keep the tears from her voice, she frowned hard. “Don’t you understand it would kill me to have to go through all that again? The prying and insinuations? And anyone who wasn’t trying to prove my gift isn’t real would be trying to get me to do a reading for them. I don’t do readings. I don’t do predictions. I’m not a party game and I don’t want to come out!”
Keegan closely watched Cassie’s face as she spoke. She was really afraid, and so damned sexy, wearing only a T-shirt and panties, it was all he could do to keep his hands off her. Whether it was true or not, it seemed she really believed her own words. With a lot of effort, he kept his arms by his sides rather than gather her close and make promises he couldn’t possibly keep.
As he watched, she snatched a pile of folded jeans and heaped them into the case, then turned to a drawer that was standing open and started to dig, making the neat stacks a shamble.
Maybe he should try harder to comfort her. He could tell her that even in a community as small as theirs, the odds of her being kidnapped were almost nil. She didn’t have that much to worry about.
It could be that she was afraid that he was learning too much about her. That he could put enough together to find out things she didn’t want anyone to know. But surely even that wouldn’t cause this degree of panic.
Deep inside, he knew he couldn’t let her leave. As if there was a connection between his heart and hers, he knew if she left town, he would follow. No matter where she went, no matter what she did, he had to be with her or he’d never be able to survive.
Scoffing inwardly at the thought, he shook his head. The old hormones must be in a real uproar, making his brain go limp. It couldn’t be his heart that was involved. Most people who knew him didn’t believe he had one.
But there must be something he could say to keep her there. After all, he still hadn’t figured her out. And you do have a job to do, he guiltily reminded himself.
Besides, if the killer had targeted her, leaving might not save her. The man might simply follow and attack when she was least expecting it. Keegan couldn’t let her go on the off chance that being out of the killer’s sight would make her safe. Keeping her near was the only way he could be certain that she was protected. And there was only one way he could think of to keep her there. “Is your privacy more important to you than the deaths of those women?” Even in the dim light he could see the color drain from her face as she stopped to stare at him. It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms to erase the effects of that last sentence. To tell her he didn’t mean to be so blunt. So cruel.
If he was going to keep her there, he’d have to show her how horrible it would be if she left. He forced away the bullet of guilt exploding in his mind as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “One of the next kidnap victims might even be Miriam—your friend who knows all about you, and loves you anyway. Can you simply walk away from her?”
As if zapped of all her strength, she suddenly dropped to the floor. Her voice, as his had, lacked substance. “Oh, God. I hadn’t thought about Miriam.” Her mouth worked for a moment; tears gleamed in the low light. “If I left and she was kidnapped, murdered, it would be my fault, wouldn’t it? I’d never be able to sleep again if that happened.”
“So what are you going to do?” He found the lamp’s switch on the table next to him, then flicked it on.
She blinked slowly in the brightness, then tipped her head to the side, a look of extreme sadness on her face. “I guess I’ll stay...for a while, anyway.”
“I’m glad.” Thank you, God. She had to stay where he could see her, touch her, talk with her.
But he wouldn’t make love with her. He’d breached his ethics by sleeping with her once. He wouldn’t do it again.
She lifted her face and stared into his gaze. “But you’ll have to promise to help me.”
Unexpectedly, dread weighed deep in his belly as he nodded. “All right. If you want me, and I can be of some help.”
****
In the coffee shop later that morning, Detective Phillips listened intently as Cassie told him what she knew. Then, silent as a stuffed cat, he nodded as he contemplated the table’s marble top. “The trouble is, I’m not sure what to do next—short of hiring an army to protect the town. And I’m not sure the city fathers would allow that even if we could afford it.”