Don t Look Back

by Margaret Daley

  Cassie brushed away the wet tracks. “Finish it for you. I’m sure there will be items in his apartment you can use. When you feel better, you can go through the boxes.”

  “I don’t know, honey. I’m not sure I can.”

  “I thought I’d have Jameson help me lug them up to the attic. When you’re ready, we can get them down.” Cassie pushed to her feet, patting her mother’s hands. “Give it time.”

  Door chimes resounded through the house. “That must be your young man. Don’t keep him waiting. Your dad always hated it when I made him late.”

  Cassie bent down and kissed her mom’s cheek, then hurried into the kitchen and through the living room to the foyer. When she opened the door, Jameson filled the entrance. Right behind him was Mrs. McVay with a pan of brownies. He let the neighbor enter the house first.

  Jameson inhaled deeply. “Mmm. I think those brownies are still hot.”

  Mrs. McVay paused and peered back at him. “Straight out of the oven. That’s why I’m wearing hot pads. I’ll cut these up and put a couple in foil for y’all to enjoy on the drive to Savannah.”

  “A woman after my heart.” Jameson closed the door behind him, then followed her neighbor into the kitchen.

  So all she had to do was learn to bake like Mrs. McVay and she might have a chance at capturing his heart. Cassie trailed after the pair and waited by the entrance while Jameson got his brownies.

  When he turned to her with his prize, his boyish smile made her nervous all over again. “Are you ready to leave?”

  He nodded. “You?”

  “I was ready when I opened the front door.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. McVay, for sharing these.” He kissed the woman’s cheek.

  He had a way with women, and Cassie didn’t think he was even aware of it. His love for his deceased wife must have been so great. Would she ever experience that kind of love?

  Not if she kept pining for a man who could never care for her like that.

  Fifteen minutes later she was ensconced in the passenger seat of Jameson’s car on the highway to Savannah. The scent of chocolate permeated the small confines, making her stomach growl. She should have eaten breakfast.

  “What did Sam have to say?”

  “He’s never seen Kevin, but Tony comes in once a week. He’ll call me the next time he does.”

  Cassie thought about the hang-up that morning. “Someone’s calling and hanging up when Mom answers.”

  “Has it happened to you?”

  “No, but she usually is the one who answers the phone.”

  “You think it’s connected to our investigation?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. Why would someone do that? A kid, maybe, but…” She hooked her hair behind her ear. “I really don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done something like this before.”

  “Someone could be trying to scare you, or find out if you are at home.”

  “Well, guess what? I’m scared now. I want it to be one of my students. That I can deal with.”

  “And it may be. Why don’t I have Jim put a trace on your phone. That way we’ll know where the calls are coming from.”

  She fluttered her hand in the air. “Fine. Whatever it takes to make it end. It’s upsetting Mom, and she doesn’t need that right now. I’m so glad Mrs. McVay is staying with her today.”

  “Are you going to be okay cleaning out Scott’s apartment?”

  “No, but it has to be done. It’s been several weeks, and Mrs. Alexander has been so patient. I know she has gotten rid of the carpet so I won’t have to see the…” She couldn’t bring herself to say bloodstain. The memory was enough for her to have to handle. She dreamed about it every night.

  “So it should be easier, then?”

  “I’m not sure easier, but I’ll manage. I don’t want a stranger going through Scott’s things. I already feel like the killer did.” Suddenly chilled, she pressed her folded arms to her chest.

  “How about the furniture?”

  “Most of it is Mrs. Alexander’s.”

  “So we get his personal stuff and the car and bring it back to Magnolia Falls?”

  “Yes. Too bad it isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

  “First, our visit to the hospital, then the apartment. After that I’m taking you out to eat.”

  Something to look forward to in an otherwise awful day. In the forty-five minutes to the psychiatric hospital, Cassie gathered her composure for a very trying day.

  At the reception desk Jameson grinned at the young lady manning it. “Good morning. I’m here to visit Kevin Reed. My sister and I are passing through Savannah and wanted to stop by and see our friend.” He stepped closer and widened his smile, his full attention on the receptionist. “Can you help me?”

  It took all of her willpower to keep from chuckling at Jameson’s performance. Most of the time he seemed so unaware of his appeal, but when he needed it, he could use it. The woman beamed as she checked her computer monitor.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. He’s no longer with us. He checked himself out three weeks ago today.”

  Jameson lounged against the desk. “I went by his place before coming here and it looked deserted. That’s why I thought he was back in the hospital.”

  The receptionist adjusted her black glasses that had slipped slightly, then tilted her head, her gaze fixed on Jameson. “Where did you go?”

  He gave the young lady Scott’s old address.

  The woman’s mouth puckered in a tiny frown. “He must have moved. That’s not the address we have.”

  Jameson leaned across the desk as though he were going to impart a secret. “What address do you have?”

  The lady shifted her adoring look from the screen to Jameson, her frown deepening. “I’m so sorry, I can’t—”

  Cassie began to cough as if she had swallowed wrong. Her eyes watered and she bent over, trying to get a breath.

  The woman shot to her feet and came around the desk. “Can I help?”

  “Wa—” Cassie gave another series of coughs “—water.”

  A few seconds later Jameson came to Cassie’s side and patted her back. “Where can I get some water?”

  “I’ll get it.” Flustered, the woman looked around the lobby as though she forget where she could get something to drink. Her gaze lit upon a door off to the side, then back to her desk. “I’m not—”

  Cassie waved her silent, drawing in shallow breaths. “I’m—” she took a deeper gulp of air “—better now. I’ve got some in the car.”

  Jameson slung his arm around Cassie as though consoling her, then glanced over his shoulder at the receptionist. “I really appreciate your help. Thanks.”

  Charm oozed from him, and Cassie clamped her lips together to keep from making a teasing comment.

  Outside in the parking lot by his car, she finally laughed. “You must have been a great reporter, at least if the person you were interviewing was female.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Now you’re concerned? I noticed the woman got to me first.”

  His eyes danced with amusement. “I had to get Kevin’s address first.”

  “Is that a reporter’s motto? Get the lead, then check to make sure a friend isn’t choking.”

  He opened her door. “You weren’t. Your acting skills aren’t too bad. For a second you had me convinced, but then I realized the timing was just too convenient. Quick thinking on your part.”

  “I had to do something and that’s all I could come up with,” she said when he came around and got into the car. “Why the brother-and-sister act?”

  “I find women are more responsive if they think you might be available.”

  “So you are aware of your effect on the female population?”

  “I’d have to be dead not to see it. I thought the best way to deal with students’ advances was to ignore them. And I was married.”

  “But that’s no longer the issue.”

  After starting the car, he
threw her a penetrating look. “Students will always be off-limits to me.”

  Cassie’s gaze fastened onto Jameson’s left hand on the steering wheel. The gold band on his finger glittered in the sunlight. “Not all professors have felt that way. When I was in school, there were a couple of rumors flying around the campus, some even involving people I knew.”

  He backed out of his parking space and turned left at the entrance. “Well, this one won’t change.”

  Their conversation reinforced two things in Cassie’s mind. Jameson was still very much in love with his wife and he was a man of integrity. She could remember the first year she was at the college seeing him at her old church. By the third year he’d stopped coming. What happened to change his mind about the Lord? His wife’s illness?

  Jameson entered an address in his GPS system in his car then began following the directions. “I wonder why Kevin checked himself out of the hospital.”

  “The same day Scott was murdered. Do you think he had something to do with it?”

  “There was no love lost between them by the time they graduated.”

  “But murder? Kevin used to hang out at our house. Some vacations he stayed in Magnolia Falls with Scott instead of going home. Mom thought of him as a second son.”

  “People change all the time.” His jaded tone pervaded the car.

  “That’s one reason my faith is so important to me. God doesn’t. He’s my stability in a world that’s constantly changing.” She scanned the area of town they were in. Small homes, neatly kept up, graced either side of the street. “Why did you stop going to the chapel on campus?”

  He shrugged. “People change. I changed.”

  “Why?” Cassie asked, surprised at her boldness, but she wasn’t going to back down. She wanted to know this man beside her. She wanted to help him as he was helping her.

  His jaw hardened. “I spent most of my weekends at the sanatorium with my wife.”

  “Is that why you gave up on the Lord? Your wife’s illness?”

  He snorted. “Illness? She was there because of me.”

  EIGHT

  “W hat happened to your wife?” Cassie shifted around toward Jameson, who pulled to the curb in front of an empty lot.

  He looked out the side window. “We’re here. This is where Kevin lives.”

  She leaned forward to peer around him. “But there’s nothing here.”

  “Exactly. He must have given them a false address.”

  “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

  His gaze swiveled back to hers. “No. The question is, why did Kevin feel he had to give the hospital the wrong address?”

  “He was scared?”

  “My thought, too. He needed to hide from someone.”

  “Scott or the person who killed him?”

  “It could be someone not connected to either one.”

  Cassie massaged her temples. “I’m getting a headache from all this.”

  Jameson put the car into Drive and pulled away. “This won’t be the only dead end we run into. Time to take care of your brother’s apartment. At least we know that Kevin was in Savannah until three weeks ago.”

  “I wonder why he was at that hospital.”

  “I did some checking on it. One of their specialties is helping people recover from substance abuse.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Both Scott and Kevin fell apart after that last game. I think Kevin blamed himself as much as Scott did for the accident that occurred on the court.”

  Did the same thing happen with you? Cassie wanted to ask Jameson, but he had shut the door on that conversation. If she did her own checking, would she discover the truth about Jameson and his wife’s death? Did she want to know? What kind of relationship could they have if he didn’t trust her enough to share that part of his life with her?

  Twenty minutes later Jameson parked in the driveway at Scott’s apartment. When Cassie climbed from the car, she stared at the partially hidden path to the back stairs. She knew that if Jameson hadn’t come with her she couldn’t have done this, even in broad daylight. The shadows created by the large live oaks seemed sinister. The quiet gave her an eerie sensation. The high wooden fence surrounding the yard lent an air of seclusion to the property that Scott had always craved and that very seclusion had made it possible for him to be murdered without anyone seeing.

  Jameson unlatched his trunk and withdrew stacks of folded boxes. “Are you ready?”

  I can do this. The Lord is always with me.

  Cassie took part of his load and started up the steps. The closer she came to the landing the more she trembled. At the top, the boxes slipped from her grasp and fell to her feet. She stared at the door, unable to move to unlock it.

  “You want Mrs. Alexander to pack up? She did offer.”

  Jameson’s deep, soothing voice reached her ears, drawing her full attention to him. The empathy in his expression touched her, and she didn’t feel alone.

  She shook her head. “I have to. Finding Scott’s murderer is the last thing I can do for him. There may be something inside that everyone has overlooked. I knew my brother better than most people. If anyone can figure it out, it will be me.” I hope, she silently added, and stuck the key into the lock.

  When the door swung open, she bent over and scooped the cardboard pieces up into her arms and entered his apartment. The first thing that struck her was the smell of pine and the outdoors. Mrs. Alexander had been hard at work, cleaning the place and airing it out.

  Looking around, she saw no evidence a murder had taken place in the apartment. The bloodstained rug had been removed and a new one in various shades of brown was spread across the floor. Her gaze remained glued to the spot where she’d found Scott, and she heard Jameson move inside and put the stack he held down.

  A lump lodged in her throat as a barrage of memories flashed through her mind. Scott laughing at one of her jokes. Scott smiling at her when she finished one of her gymnastics routines. Scott crying when he realized he couldn’t play basketball anymore. Scott so drunk he couldn’t sit up.

  Jameson clasped her upper arms from behind and whispered against her neck, “Time does make it more bearable. I promise.”

  She turned slowly and laid her hand alongside his jaw. “I’m not the only one here hurting. When you’re ready to talk about your wife, I’m a good listener.”

  He started to pull away, but she settled her other hand on his shoulder to keep him there.

  “Who laid down the ground rules? Do you think I’ve forgotten the question I asked you in your car that you ignored? You will never be happy until you come to terms with what happened all those years ago.”

  He jerked free. “I don’t deserve that happiness you talk about. I should have died that day my wife was hurt.”

  “But you didn’t. You denying yourself a full life will not bring her back.”

  He snagged a piece of cardboard and began to assemble the box. “Don’t turn the tables on me. Today is about Scott.”

  “And that is why I’m saying this to you. I watched my brother almost self-destruct because he couldn’t deal with his past.”

  Jameson tore off some tape and stuck it on the flaps of the box. “And I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell me is that his faith was what finally pulled him out of his black hole.”

  “No, like you, he was angry at God for what happened to him. But after he hit rock bottom and started his slow climb up, it was his faith that kept him on the right path. His AA meetings were at a church. Soon he started attending more than the meetings, and when he found himself wanting to slip back into the hole, he read his Bible and prayed.”

  “I prayed. God wasn’t listening.”

  “He’s always listening. He just may not be answering the way you want.”

  Jameson started making another box. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

  Frustrated, Cassie snatched up the first one he had put together and marched toward the bedroom. Lord, I’m
not doing a very good job. I need Your help. How do I reach Jameson and make him see how much he’s missing without You in his life?

  “It felt so strange driving Scott’s car back to Magnolia Falls.” Cassie took the last box out of the back and stacked it against the garage wall where the other ones were. Later they could move them to the attic.

  “It’s a beauty.” Jameson placed his armload down next to Cassie’s, then stood back to admire the 1966 Mustang. “I remember my dad had one of these for a few years. He loved that car. Someone hit him and totaled it. He suffered a broken arm and leg, but at least he survived the wreck.”

  Cassie lounged against the red fender. “Did he get another one?”

  “Nope. After that he always bought clunkers. He told me he never wanted to be beholden to a possession like that again. They weren’t what was important.” Jameson circled around to the trunk and closed it.

  “What was important to your father?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he finally muttered in a tight voice, “God and family, in that order.”

  “I wish I had known mine. He left my mother when she became pregnant with Scott. I was five. I hardly remember him.”

  “He didn’t keep in touch?”

  “He didn’t want to have anything to do with a family, especially children. For years I thought I was the reason he walked out on Mom.”

  “But you don’t now?” His gaze linked with hers.

  She released a long breath, pushing off from the fender. “Most of the time I don’t, but I supposed there’s still a little part of me that wonders if I was the cause of him not wanting children in his life.”

  Jameson rounded the car and stopped in front of her. “I’m sorry. Thankfully my sister and I always knew we were loved. Life wasn’t easy. We grew up in a pretty rough part of Chicago. But we knew where we stood with our parents.”

  “Scott and I never lacked love. Our mother made sure of that, but that doesn’t stop a kid from wondering what life would be like with two parents. She is someone I can look up to with her quiet strength.”

  “Even when my dad finally got a good job, he stayed in the old neighborhood partially because he was so involved in the church there and partially because he wanted to give back to the community. He was the reason I wanted to change the world. I wanted to root out the bad guys who preyed on the weak.”