by Lena Gregory
15
Uncomfortable under his stare, Cass turned and looked out the side window.
Harry pulled into the parking lot and parked in a reserved spot in front of the police station. He cracked the windows open, turned off the car, and sat, waiting.
Memories of the last time she’d been there swamped her, and she made no move to get out of the car. If she never set foot in that station again, it would be too soon. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry?” he asked, though she was pretty sure he knew exactly what she meant.
She heaved in a breath and slouched back against the seat. “Yes, I followed a . . . I don’t know exactly, but something, into the dunes. The vision hit me after I took the bone from Beast. I followed her, but the woman disappeared behind the dune. Then I found the pile of bones Beast had dug up.”
“So you didn’t actually see the exact spot where the image vanished?”
She shook her head.
“So it could have been a few dozen feet farther into the dunes?”
Cass thought about it. She’d been hesitant, afraid of what she’d find, and she’d paused before the woman disappeared. “Yes. It could have been.”
He seemed to turn the information over in his mind. He reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
With his hand perched on the handle, he stopped.
“That’s it?”
He shrugged. “For now.”
“And you believe me?”
“No reason not to.” He reached across the seat and patted her arm, then hauled his bulk out of the car.
Before she could say anything else, Tank pulled in beside them. He got out and opened Cass’s door.
She climbed from the car, feeling like she was caught up in a bad episode of The Ghost Whisperer, and followed Harry and Tank up the front steps and into the building.
“You okay?” Tank whispered just after they crossed the threshold.
She nodded and kept walking, her gaze focused firmly in front of her.
Tank ushered her into a corner office—thankfully, one she’d never been in before—and gestured to a chair at a small round table. “Have a seat, and I’ll be right back.”
Harry seemed to have disappeared somewhere.
She pulled out a chair and sat. Resting her elbows on the table, she cradled her head in her hands and searched for focus. Things had spiraled so far out of control, she had no clue what to do to straighten them out. She didn’t know what Tank wanted to talk to her about. A small niggle of fear tried to creep in, but she brushed it aside. Even if Leighton had already noticed the damage she’d done to the painting, there hadn’t been time for her to call the police or for them to investigate and match the smudge to her thumbprint, if they even could still match it after she’d smeared it the best she could with the paintbrush. Okay. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Obviously, focusing internally was an epic failure.
She looked around the room. Lush green ferns adorned a multisurface planter beneath the window. A small, scratched desk sat in one corner, papers strewn haphazardly across its surface. Not once did it cross her mind to shuffle through them to see what they were. Of course, she had no interest in their contents. If she did, she’d probably have used the moment alone to take a peek. Was that all “John” had done, taken a peek into something that had been left lying around that he thought might be interesting? Or had his interest been more calculated than that? It didn’t seem likely that he’d come in intent on finding her appointment book. That had to have just been a bonus, yet her gut told her he’d been there for something. But what?
The door squeaked as it opened and Tank walked in with the chief of police, a tall, handsome woman who appeared to be in her late forties or so. Her meticulously pressed suit hung from slim shoulders and hips. Her salt-and-pepper hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, sharpening her already angular features. She reminded Cass of her grade-school principal, back when she’d been afraid of authority figures.
Cass stood.
“Cass, this is Chief Rawlins.”
Cass stepped forward and offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The chief nodded. “Nice to meet you. Sit, please. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Cass’s stomach turned over at the thought. “No, thank you.”
Chief Rawlins pulled out a seat across from Cass and sat, maintaining eye contact the whole time. “I’ve been hearing rumors about you.”
Cass struggled not to squirm beneath the weight of her stare. She remained silent. No way she’d offer any information at all unless she was asked a direct question. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and waited, the picture of calm, or so she hoped.
“I can’t even stop for a decent cup of coffee without your name coming up, so I figured it was time we met.” She smiled and folded her hands on the table in front of her.
Heat crept into Cass’s cheeks. She hated being the focus of the rumor mill.
“Since I don’t believe in gossip and prefer to get my information directly from the source, would you please walk me through the events that led to you finding the skeleton on the beach?”
“Um . . .” Her gaze flickered to Tank, who stood stone-faced beside the door, hands clasped in front of him. Apparently he hadn’t been invited to join their chat.
“Would you please give us a moment alone, Detective?”
He studied Cass, and she nodded. “Of course, Chief. Let me know when you’re done, Cass, and I’ll call Stephanie to pick you up.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Cass?” The chief’s voice softened just a little.
“Yes?”
She stared hard at Cass. “I understand your reluctance to talk to me, but there’s no need to feel hesitant . . . or threatened. Sometimes, especially in small towns, where there’s not a lot of crime and things have been done the same way for generations, it can be hard for people to, shall we say, think outside the box? But I’m not from a small town. My last position was in a big city, where we often consulted with . . . well, anyone who might have information, no matter how they might have obtained it.” Her warm smile lessened the harshness of her personality. “Now, talk to me.”
Her southern accent reminded her a little of Luke’s, and sincerity radiated from her. Although Cass had always been good at judging people’s character, she still found it hard to trust them, even when she thought the person she was speaking to was being completely honest and genuine. But she did trust Tank, and she didn’t think he’d have brought her into the station or left her alone with Chief Rawlins if he didn’t trust her.
Heck, half the town already thought she was crazy, what difference did it really make what this woman thought of her? “I was walking on the beach with Beast, my dog, and he dug the bones up and brought me one. When I touched it . . .” She shivered at the memory. “I’ve been having dreams lately, about a woman who seems to be trying to tell me something. When I grabbed the bone, I got a vision of the woman.”
The chief uncrossed her legs and perched on the edge of her chair, leaning forward against the table. “And?”
Cass shrugged. “I followed her into the dunes and found the bones.”
Chief Rawlins pursed her lips and slid back in the chair. “You had a visit from a man named Artie Becker.”
She nodded, unsure of what to make of the abrupt change of subject.
“Did he show you a photograph of his daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Was it the same woman?”
The thought had tormented Cass since she’d stumbled across the body. “I just don’t know. The picture was old, from when she was a young teenager. She had a long bob, hanging around her face. The image of the woman I saw was older and had her hair pulled back. Plus, it was shadowy.” Cass shook her head. She just couldn’t
say for sure. “It was hard to even tell what color it was, though if I had to guess, I’d say dirty blond or light brown.”
The chief studied her a moment longer, then stood and extended her hand. “Thank you for coming in. If you think of anything else that could be helpful to us, I’d appreciate you contacting me.” She released Cass’s hand and pulled a leather business card holder from her jacket pocket. She removed a card and handed it to Cass. “It would be best if you contact me directly. Others in the department might not be quite so open-minded.”
Cass had a strong suspicion this woman knew exactly what each and every member of her department thought.
“Thank you.”
She smiled and left. A moment later, Tank walked in. “Stephanie is on her way.”
“Thank you.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, just tired.”
He squeezed her arm and walked with her to the front door. She couldn’t help but notice the sideways glances and even a few not-so-discreet stares from the other officers in the station, some of whom even stopped what they were doing to ogle her. Beginning to feel like some kind of freak, Cass hurried toward the door.
Somehow, it seemed odd to have people think she actually communicated with the dead. Of course, that’s what they were all supposed to think. She’d worked hard to build a reputation as a medium and a psychic. But up until recently, she’d thought her instincts were just that, instincts. Now, however, she might have to face the fact that she was receiving some sort of otherworldly intervention. Her head started to pound.
She had to admit to a certain amount of relief when they exited the building and the door fell shut behind them, blocking the stares.
A flash of light blinded her for an instant and left spots in front of her eyes.
“Hey,” Tank yelled, but remained at her side.
Someone jumped into the passenger side of a white van and took off.
Tank mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “idiot,” and Cass hoped he was referring to the guy with the camera. “Stephanie should be here any minute. Will you be all right until then?”
She inhaled deeply, the humid, salty air failing to relieve any tension. “I’m fine. But don’t you want to wait and see Stephanie?”
“I’d love to. Unfortunately, I can’t right now. I have to go.” He kissed her cheek and walked away. Weird. Tank never missed a chance to say hello to his wife. Either there was definitely trouble brewing, or this case was taking its toll.
Cass stood on the sidewalk and pulled out her cell phone to text Bee, but there was already a message waiting for her. It simply said, Call me.
She pressed Bee’s name and put the phone to her ear.
“It’s about time. Where are you?”
“I’m still at the police station. Stephanie’s on her way to pick me up. Did you pick Beast up?”
“Well, I got there, but there was a slight issue.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“He’s okay, but he chewed up a bottle of shampoo. Unfortunately, it was full.”
“Is he all right?”
“I took him over to the vet when you didn’t call back.” His voice held a slight reprimand, but Cass ignored it. “Doc said he’d be fine, but he’s keeping him overnight for observation.”
“All right. Thank you for taking him, Bee.”
“You’re welcome. There’s one little problem, though.”
“Just one?”
“Ha-ha, smarty-pants. I was just going to warn you, he threw up all over the car before we made it to the vet. I left the windows open, but, well, yeah . . .”
“Okay.” She sighed. This day just got better and better. “I’ll clean it up when I get there. Where are you?”
“I’m at the shop. I came back here to move the file cabinets and your paperwork upstairs.”
In other words, he went back to the shop to see what was going on. “Are the reporters still there?”
“A few are still hanging around, but most of them already took off. Probably wanted to get on the ferry and head back to the mainland before dark.”
Stephanie’s car rounded the corner, so Cass cut her conversation with Bee short and shoved the phone into her pocket. Stephanie pulled up to the curb, and Cass slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“No problem.” Stephanie checked her side-view mirror and pulled out.
“Tank said he had to run.” She studied Stephanie’s profile, but didn’t see any change in her expression at the mention of Tank.
“I know, thanks. When he called he said he wouldn’t be able to wait.”
“He usually does. Wait, I mean.”
Stephanie glanced at her. “He usually doesn’t have two bodies on the beach.”
She couldn’t argue that.
“How are you doing?” Stephanie asked.
Cass shrugged but accepted the change of subject. “It’s been a rough day. I’ll feel better after dinner and a hot bath.” Though she was beyond exhausted, the thought of sleep brought only anxiety.
“Do you want to go out?”
She thought about it for a few minutes, but the thought of going out didn’t really appeal. Between her lack of sleep, Beast stuck at the vet overnight—again—the episode at the art gallery, and her apparent involvement in a case she’d tried to stay out of, she didn’t feel like doing anything. It was too late to stop at the vet and see Beast, so she’d have to settle for calling the doctor and asking about him. She could stop by and see him on the way to the shop in the morning. “Would you mind dropping me off at home?”
Stephanie glanced at her but, thankfully, refrained from asking questions Cass didn’t feel like answering. “Sure. Where’s your car?”
“Bee has it. He went back to the shop to start moving stuff upstairs. If I ask him to meet us at the house, would you drop him off at the deli to pick up his car?” Hopefully he wouldn’t balk at driving it again before she could clean it up. Not an appealing thought.
“Are you going to have the group reading upstairs Saturday?”
A bit of excitement fluttered in her stomach. “I’m hoping to, if we can get it set up in time.”
“All you really need up there are the tables and chairs, right?”
“Pretty much. Eventually, I’d like to have a counter for coffee and dessert, but we can do that downstairs this time.”
“Or you could set up a table along one wall.”
“True.” She perked up at the thought of Saturday’s reading. She loved the group readings, which had evolved into social events. She’d go home, get a good night’s sleep, then pick up Beast in the morning and head into the shop. Tomorrow would be a better day.
16
The woman came closer, fear etched in her taut features. Cass reached out and tried to touch her, but her image dissipated into a cloudy haze beneath her fingers, only to reappear a moment later.
Cass’s gaze shot to the woman’s mouth. Not the pouty, full lips from the portrait in the gallery window, but a thin, tight line, her lips pressed firmly together. Did that mean Cass was dreaming? She didn’t feel like she was asleep. And yet . . .
“Help me.” The woman’s voice sounded in Cass’s head, even though her mouth never moved.
“I don’t know how.” Had she said that out loud? It felt like it, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Help me!” The voice took on an angry edge, more insistent this time. The woman’s eyes darkened.
Fear gripped Cass, but she wrestled it down. This needed to end, and the only way she could think to end it was to find out what the woman wanted and try to help. And if it was only a dream, well, it still couldn’t hurt to ask. “What can I do?”
The woman held out a hand, and Cass reached for it. Their fingers met. An ice-cold chill
penetrated Cass’s hand and ran up her arm, the pain excruciating. She yanked her hand back.
The woman let out a silent scream, her features contorting into a grotesque mask of pain and anger, then she vanished.
Cass jerked upright and launched herself from the bed. Sweat soaked her shirt. Strands of damp hair stuck to her neck and wrapped around her throat. She pulled at it, desperately trying to untangle herself, needing air. Holding her hair up behind her, she sucked in a deep breath.
She looked for Beast in his usual spot at the foot of the bed, then remembered he was at the vet and wished he was there to comfort her. And to confirm he sensed a presence.
She shook off the last remnants of sleep and rubbed her arm where the phantom pain still lingered. No way was she getting back in that bed. She stumbled to the kitchen, turning on all the lights as she went, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and sucked down half of it. Then she perched on the edge of a chair and put the bottle down in front of her. Propping her elbows on the table, she dropped her head into her hands and tried to bring the vision of the woman back into focus.
She was fairly certain it was the same woman from the painting in the gallery. The mouth had thrown her.
Cass had purposely looked for the necklace this time. Since she saw it in the painting in Leighton’s back room, she knew exactly what she was looking for and where to look. But the woman in her visions was definitely not wearing the necklace “John” had been searching for. She had no doubt that was an important clue, but with no idea what it meant, all she could do was file it away for now.
A sound like a motor kicked on and Cass jerked out of the chair. The refrigerator. Okay, more like a soft hum than a motor, but in the silence and her current state of mind, it had sounded way louder than normal. She pressed a shaky hand to her chest to still her hammering heart. She couldn’t take much more of this. Her nerves were shot. The clock on the stove read 3:00 A.M. The house was too lonely without Beast, too quiet. She wasn’t hanging around alone for another minute.