Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cassandra waited in the passenger seat of her car as Adam disappeared into the lobby of the Smoky Mountain Lodge. They had decided that tracing JoAnn Reed was the most important step at the moment. Adam had come up with a plan to talk with Sarah Welford's family. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but they were the only people who might have an inkling where JoAnn had gone.

  The afternoon was winding down, and Cassandra leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It had been such a day of conflicting emotions, and tomorrow she had to do something she dreaded, appear on television. The confrontation with Ken Simpson had reawakened all of the horrors she'd suffered since childhood.

  She hated the limelight. Hated the thought of being in a place where people could ridicule her and hate her because she was different. She'd suffered all of her life because of it.

  A faint smile played across her lips as she thought of Sylvia, who loved being the center of attention. Her mother had warned her about hiding from life. She could still hear Sylvia's melodic voice saying that she couldn't hide from her destiny, that she shouldn't be ashamed of her talent.

  It wasn't a matter of hiding or shame, it was simply that Cassandra wanted to be left alone. She needed neither praise nor condemnation. She didn't need anything…except Adam.

  Behind dark sunglasses, she blinked her eyes open. Her watch indicated Adam had been gone fifteen minutes. She shut her eyes again. What had Ray been hunting in Sarah's bedroom? Maybe something that identified him as the murderer.

  She sat up and pushed her glasses aside. She shuddered. She had the feeling that someone had walked on her grave. She checked her watch again. Another ten minutes had passed. Adam would be returning soon.

  Almost as if by command, he walked out the double doors of the lodge. His step was long, brisk, as if he had a destination.

  "She hasn't left town," he said as he got into the car. "They don't know where she is, but she told them she wasn't leaving Gatlinburg. She's going to change jobs, too."

  "Won't she need a reference from Crockett's?"

  "I'll check with the manager," Adam said. "It's doubtful, though, with a waitress position."

  "So, another dead end." Cassandra slumped against the seat.

  "Why don't we take a ride?" Adam suggested. "I've been in Gatlinburg almost a week, and I haven't seen the first sight."

  "Ride…" Cassandra held onto the word. She concentrated hard. "Ride. That's what Ray said. The night when he was talking with Sarah at Crockett's, he said he was going to take her on a ride." She opened her eyes. "What a fool I've been. The fair!"

  "Transient, moving north for summer and south for winter. Florida. That's it." Adam pulled her across the seat and kissed her. "He's a carnie. It's the perfect occupation for…"

  "A murderer," Cassandra finished. "Tan, strong, familiar to the girls he picks up. And he would know JoAnn and Sarah. Maybe he even ran Sarah down when she tried to warn JoAnn."

  Adam started the car and pulled onto the interstate with a spray of gravel. "How about an evening of fun at the fair?"

  "Fun?" Cassandra couldn't help the anxiety that touched her. "What if we find him? We can't exactly call Beaker and get him to help."

  Adam realized what she said was true. "We'll take care of that later. First, let's find him."

  Cassandra gave directions to the fairgrounds where the traveling shows set up each spring. Music from the many different rides and booths carried on the clear mountain air and they heard the fair long before they saw it. As Adam found a parking space, Cassandra watched the lights of the Ferris wheel spin and weave through the mountain dusk.

  "I've always hated the fair," she said slowly. "Always. Even as a child. My father died in a fall."

  "We don't have to ride anything. If Ray is a carnie, he'll be working one of the rides or a booth. He shouldn't be too hard to find, if you can really recognize him."

  "His voice and his body. His hair." She got out of the car. "Let's start with the rides."

  They dodged clusters of teenagers and mothers trying to keep young children grouped together. Clouds of cotton candy added splotches of pastel color to the midway. All around them, the young and old screamed as the rides bobbed and whirled. Cassandra had an image of wide open mouths and hair blown helter-skelter. It reminded her of her nightmares and she felt a knot of sickness in her stomach.

  Walking slowly, they passed the Octopus, the Orbiter and the Tilt-A-Whirl. Cassandra stopped for a moment to watch the children on a merry-go-round. For one brief instant she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying their innocent pleasure, then Adam's hand on her arm moved her along.

  Night was claiming the horizon, and along the mountainsides lights had blinked into existence like tiny, distant stars. "We'd better hurry," Adam said. "I'd like to get a clear look at this guy during daylight."

  "I'm not so sure I want to see him," Cassandra admitted.

  Hawkers called to them as they passed booths of chance and shows of the grotesque. Cassandra increased her pace. Ray wouldn't be working that section, she knew it. He'd be on one of the wild rides.

  They doubled back, checking the opposite side of the midway. In the distance Cassandra could hear the screams coming from the ride called the Spider. She slowed, then remembered that Ray had no reason to recognize her.

  "Let's go," she whispered to Adam.

  He felt the tension in her body and he moved closer protectively.

  Cassandra saw the man's broad shoulders as he heaved back on the stick that sent the ride into motion.

  The arms of the ride began moving around and around, up and down, as each individual seat spun sideways. Inside the cars, people screamed with the thrill of pleasure and fear.

  "That's him," Cassandra whispered.

  "Are you certain? You didn't see his face."

  "It's him." She was as certain as she could be about anything in her life.

  As the ride picked up momentum, the man leaned on the stick with his hip. Pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his T-shirt, he turned slightly to protect the flame of his match from the wind.

  "Charm him, Cassandra." Adam squeezed her arm.

  Cassandra took in a breath. He was far more handsome than she'd expected. His hair, long and shining under the lights of the ride, fell across his jaw. When he looked up, he looked directly at her. He gave a slow, lazy smile.

  "Want a ride, lady?"

  She didn't answer instantly. She looked to her side, but the space was empty. Adam was gone! She stepped to the wooden deck that surrounded the ride. "Yes. I'd like a ride. Where do I get my tickets?"

  He leaned down to her. "Don't tell a soul, but you don't need a ticket to ride this machine. Step on up here and I'll give you a spin for free."

  Cassandra mounted the four steps to the platform. She stood beside him, close enough to touch. Her gaze wandered to his feet. He wore the same shoes she'd seen from under the bed.

  "How long is the fair in town?" she asked. She thought her voice would crack, but it didn't.

  "Another two weeks. I'd sure like to spend that time getting to know you."

  Cassandra lifted her eyebrows and made her eyes wide. "Oh, what makes you think you would?" She felt like a complete moron. She'd never attempted to play the coquette before, and her lack of practice was burningly apparent.

  "Aren't you cute?" he chuckled. "You're one of those gals who need a lot of compliments. Well, I could make a list of reasons, all of them exciting." He let his eyes wander from her hair to her throat and down. "But I'd rather do that over a drink tonight."

  "Don't you have to work?" She spoke so fast, she realized she sounded scared. "I mean, the fair stays open until so late. I'm a working girl. I have to get up early."

  "Now that's just the opposite problem that my last girlfriend had." He smiled, a confident animal used to the courting routine, and used to winning.

  "Last girlfriend?" The words escaped before Cassandra could help herself. "What happened to her?"


  "Oh, I left her down the road. That's my business, and I won't pretend otherwise. The fair moves, and I go with it. Some girls take it better than others. Some— " he shrugged "— get real upset. But I never lie. I'm up-front from the very beginning, just like I am with you."

  Cassandra recovered. Thank heavens he'd thought she was jealous. "It must be hard, leaving all those women behind." She smiled, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Where the hell was Adam? The ride was spinning wildly behind her. Ray gave her most of his attention, but he was pulling back on the stick, slowing it down. The passengers had gotten an extra long ride as it was. It was time for the next shift.

  A line had formed just below the steps, and she knew her time was growing short. "If you could get off a little early, I might meet you."

  "You might, huh?" He leaned down close to her. "Where?"

  "Well, I'm visiting here with some friends. I don't know the area very well, but I heard this place called Crockett's, you know, after Davey," she giggled, "was a good place."

  "It's a bit crowded," Ray said. He was signaling to the people to get off the ride. He shifted his weight, knowing he should make the rounds and help undo the safety bars. "How about another place?"

  "I don't know…" Cassandra knew why he didn't want to go to Crockett's. Someone might be able to identify him as Sarah's beau.

  "Meet me at Blue Ridge Lounge, just off the main road. At nine. I'll get someone to fill in for me here for a hour or so." He reached a hand out and touched a lock of her hair. "Be on time, okay? I hate it when women are late."

  "Okay," she breathed softly, wanting nothing more than to escape. In a hard way, Ray was a handsome man. He had the jaw and the carefully developed body. Long clean hair, impeccably groomed. But his eyes— they were so cold and assessing. Everything came to him on his terms, or he didn't fool with it.

  "Even Sarah," Cassandra whispered to herself as she let the eager crowd push her forward until she was standing beside one of the gondolas for the ride.

  "Step up."

  She felt strong hands on her waist and started to turn. She expected Adam. The touch was unfamiliar and she felt her spine tighten.

  "You forgot to tell me your name," he said softly in her ear.

  She shivered. "Ellen," she answered. "Ellen McKnight." She watched his reaction carefully, but he gave nothing away. She climbed into the car and let Ray hook the safety bar. She put a smile on her face. "Thanks."

  "See you later, Ellen," he said, stroking her hair again.

  She watched him disappear around the other gondolas, buckling the safety bar in each one to make sure his passengers rode safely.

  The ride started to move, and Cassandra prepared herself. She'd never liked the fast, tumultuous rides, but she had no choice but to stick this one out— and look happy about it. She'd concentrate on plotting her strategy for the upcoming meeting with Ray.

  The lounge he'd selected as a meeting place was dark and isolated. More of a local hangout than a tourist bar. How had he learned of it? Sarah Welford, no doubt. She was a local girl.

  The gondola started to pitch up and down. Gripping the bar, Cassandra pushed into the back of her seat, hoping for some sensation of steadiness in her revolving world. She gritted her teeth and kept her eyes open, fighting the sense of complete loss of control. She focused on her fingers gripping the bar. She felt like…Ellen in the convertible as it sped down the woodland trail.

  She felt her control slipping. The dream crept onto the edge of her consciousness, pushing hard against her. It was like the day she'd nearly totaled her car. There was nothing she could do to hold it back. Her head fell back against the rest, and as the gondola sped and whirled, Cassandra drowned in her dream.

  * * *

  "I HATE this place."

  She heard a woman speak, but the voice was unfamiliar. The woman was standing in shadow.

  "It's beautiful here. The only real beauty is that of nature." The man spoke with deep regret. "I'm sorry."

  His hand touched the woman's face. The fingers were soft and cool. She was facing the view and there was no place for her to put her feet to get away from him. The mountain dropped away. It was a sheer cliff.

  Cassandra had never seen the dream so clearly before. The night was crusted with stars, and below the lip of the mountain where the woman stood, only blackness could be seen. She could sense the woman's terrible sadness, her fear and her worry.

  The man stepped up behind her, closer, and she tried to turn around to face him. He grabbed her arms. "Don't turn around. I told you. Don't! You know the rules."

  "Why?" she asked. "Why are you doing this? It can stop now, if you'll let me help you."

  Held beneath the dream, Cassandra struggled to help the unknown woman. She was new, a different victim. She wanted to encourage her to stay calm, to think. The killer never forced the victim over the edge of the cliff, but that was how he controlled them. If they struggled too much, they might fall. So they died like cattle in a slaughterhouse line. No real struggle. Fight! she mentally urged the woman.

  "It doesn't matter. It's my destiny. Would you like some champagne? I brought some, just for you. A toast to Eagle's Roost." The man laughed, an easy, practiced sound. "You're the kind of woman who should go out in style."

  "Yes, I'd like some champagne."

  That's right, Cassandra urged her. Do the unexpected. Get him to move away from you.

  "I knew you wouldn't be a baby. Not like the others. You're a beautiful woman. Beautiful skin. Beautiful hair." He picked up a strand and let it slide through his fingers. "So beautiful. I'm surprised you haven't asked about JoAnn. She hasn't gone far, you know."

  "Have you hurt her?" The woman inched away from the cliff. A rock slipped beneath her foot. It echoed in the night as it struck several outcroppings of stone before it disappeared into the black void.

  "I sent her…to a safe place." He laughed a little at his own cleverness. "Until I could finish this with you. You've put me through a lot of trouble, you know. But it's made it all…interesting. A worthy adversary, and one with such beautiful hair and skin. I almost hate to kill you."

  * * *

  "HEY! HEY, ELLEN! Wake up!" Ray brushed Cassandra's hair out of her face.

  Cassandra felt the hand on her shoulder. Someone was shaking her roughly. There was a din of confusing noises all around her, smells that made her reel. She tried to open her eyes but lights throbbed and pulsed at her, blending with the rhythm of the pounding of her head.

  "Someone call an ambulance," Ray ordered.

  "No," Cassandra forced herself to say. She struggled to sit up, but there was a wooden bar across her lap. At last, she opened her eyes. Ray stood hovering over her, his eyes squinting with concern.

  "What happened?" he asked roughly.

  "I don't know," she said. "I started feeling funny. I must have eaten something." She fumbled with excuses. What had happened? She had been back in the dream, back with the killer. He'd found a new victim, a woman she hadn't seen clearly at all, except for the long hair. They'd been at the place the killer called Eagle's Roost. He was ready to kill again!

  "Wait a minute," Ray said. He unbolted the bar that held her prisoner and easily pulled her out of the car. "Calm down a little." He held her tight.

  "I have to go," she whispered. Her head was pounding and her heart felt as if it were going to burst.

  "You can't even walk." Ray helped her over to the wooden platform where he controlled the ride. "Wait here a minute. Let me get them loaded and I'll be back."

  Unable to argue, Cassandra nodded. She was feeling desperately sick. Even the solidness of the hard platform felt good as she sat on it and leaned her head forward into her hands. Beneath her headache and nausea was the drumming fear. He wasn't gone. He was only waiting, hiding out, thinking sharper and faster than those who pursued him.

  He was sick and smart, and he loathed his victims. He hated women. Hated, feared, and envied them. Cassandra started to
shake, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Ray returned and gave the controlling stick to the ride a fearful punch. The Spider took off with an unusual burst of energy.

  "Maybe you'd better let me call an ambulance," he said. He sat down beside her. "You look really sick."

  "I'm better," she said. "It will pass, and there's not much a doctor can do." She forced her gaze up and looked at him. Was he planning the murder of a young woman even as he sat beside her? And, dear God, what had he done with JoAnn?

  "The color is coming back," he said, nodding at her. "You really scared me. I've seen people get sick on rides, but not like you. And that scream you gave. It almost stopped the midway."

  "What scream?" Cassandra felt anxiety rumble in her stomach. What had she said?

  "You screamed 'no' like someone was trying to murder you."

  "I, uh, didn't want to get sick. Not on the ride."

  "Thanks," Ray said, and there was a glint of humor in his face. "But you are looking better. How do you feel?"

  "Like I'd better get out of your hair and let you earn a living." She stood up. The jackhammer in her skull kicked in a little harder, but she could walk. She could get away from Ray before she collapsed.

  "If you'd rather cancel tonight…" He gave her a grin that might have charmed some women.

  "Not on your life," she said, smiling at her own pun. "Not on my life, either. I'll be there. At nine. And I'll be on time," she said.

  Before he could reconsider, she walked away. She needed to lie down and rest, and she needed to do it right away. Where had they parked? The little convertible would not offer much of a bed, but she had to rest. Just for a few moments.

  There was so much to do. JoAnn. Where could she be that the killer would have "sent her to a safe place?" The silly woman was putting her life in danger as each minute ticked away. And the latest victim. Cassandra had no idea who she might be.

  She had to think. Clearly. With her head filled with a crescendo of pain, she had no tool to work with. And where was Adam? When she found him, she was going to pickle him.