by Susan Shay
Knocking softly, he waited for someone to open for him. After a very long moment, he swallowed hard. Where were they? Why weren’t they answering his knock? Was something wrong? His stomach a hard knot, he made a fist and hammered five times against the heavy wood. If someone didn’t come soon, he’d kick the sidelights in.
Just as he was eyeing the glass, he heard the key in the lock. Ready to ask what had taken so long, he forgot everything when Cassie opened the door. More than just her beauty, her spirit made him go tongue-tied.
At his hesitation, amusement filled her gaze. “Don’t you know it’s cold out there? Must be almost down to forty this evening.”
“Yeah. If it gets much colder, my teeth are liable to chatter.” But it wasn’t the cold he was thinking about. At least not what the temperature could do to him. It might be interesting to see the effect of a chill on Cassie, though. Would her nipples pebble into rosebuds or retreat coyly, then beg to be lured out?
As he tried to remember how to breathe, she playfully caught his hand, pulled him inside, and shut the door. But before they could move, her eyes clouded. “Oh, no. He refused to publish an article about the serial killer, didn’t he? I only wish he hadn’t been so rude.”
Goose bumps made a shivering path along his spine. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and reason was a distant memory. Not only did she know where he’d been, she knew why he’d gone. And what had happened. Even if Clark had for some reason called and told her that Keegan was there, he wouldn’t have said he was rude. Likely, Clark didn’t think he had been rude. Just matter-of-fact.
Rude was a judgment call. And only a soft-hearted person like Cassie would regard it so. Unable to find his voice, he whispered, “How did you know?”
Now it was her turn to look startled. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pressed her lips into a tight line and took a long breath. Finally, her voice filled with resignation, she answered. “I-I saw it when I touched you.”
Impossible. No way was he going to start believing in psychic ability at this late date in his life. There was no scientific explanation for it. It couldn’t happen. But it had.
Dammit, there was too much going on here. Too many confusing shards that didn’t fit together. Always before, Clark had jumped at the chance to print something fantastic, if there was even a spark of possibility. Now he was insisting on police department sanctioning? Cassie knew way more than was humanly possible. And Miriam had changed from the sweetest sibling in the world to the sister from hell.
Was he losing his mind? The frustration that had plagued him all afternoon slammed into him full force, then slow anger began burning away the edges. Gripping Cassie’s arm above the wrist, he demanded—or begged, “How the hell did you know that? Did Clark call you? Fill you in?”
As her color drained, she shook her head but didn’t try to pull away as she stared him straight in the eye. “Of course not. I know because the emotion is very strong, upsetting you.” She swallowed visibly, then continued. “I saw what happened.”
“And why did you, of all the people in the world, or at least the state of Kansas, get this fabulous gift? What’s so special about you?” His words were ugly, cutting, but he didn’t care. Maybe their starkness would jolt the truth from her.
She tried to swallow back her tears, but wasn’t very successful. “I don’t know why I received this magnitude of the gift, but I’m not the only person in Kansas or Texas to have it. Everyone has some psychic ability.”
Trying to intimidate, he shoved his face closer. “Not me.”
She hiked her chin before she answered, but her voice still quavered. “Yes, you do. But you have to want to use it. To listen to what’s going on inside. I don’t think you’ve ever done that.”
Frowning, he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to glare at her again. “Nothing.”
Looking unsure, she hesitated. “You have to be really still inside. No matter what’s going on outside, if you can quiet your inner being, you can use your ability.”
“And what if my ability by itself isn’t strong enough?” Disdain made him want to ridicule her, show her how ludicrous her words were, make her admit that she was trying to convince him of something that was impossible. “Will combining my ability along with someone else’s double the gift? Make it twice as strong? Give us all kind of insider information we wouldn’t normally have?”
Her shrug was stiff. “I do-don’t know. I’ve never tri—”
He pushed harder. “And if it does work, is it legal to use in stock trading, or will I get the book thrown at me, like Martha?”
Cassie tried to ignore the pain and listen past Keegan’s words. As she watched, the frustration and anger building in him became a living thing growing and trying to establish a foothold.
She couldn’t blame him. For a man who believed in nothing outside himself, accepting universal psychic ability was a struggle. To be truthful, he had to be commended for even trying. But would he ever get there, or would he, like most people, just quit trying? “You’ll be fine.”
“What?” He caught his breath as if she’d interrupted his line of thought.
“You don’t have to embrace everything about it right now.” She tried to make it simple. “Trying to understand the gift is almost as hard as trying to understand God. Just accept it.”
He snorted, then shaking his head, murmured, “God. Right.”
Unable to stop the smile that his little boy reaction caused, she nodded. “Yes, God. It’ll take time, but you’ll get there.”
Shoving his fingers into his pockets, he let his elbows stick out at angles to his body. “Well, since you know all about Him, why don’t you check with Him about warning the women of Stone Hill?”
Although he was trying to be flippant, she knew he was sincere. He wanted to do something, anything, to stop the murders. To rid himself of the guilt of being alive and a man and out of danger. “The Stone Hill Sentinel.”
His scowl should have stopped her heart, but it didn’t. “The Sentinel is a weekly paper. How many women do you think he can kill in the next week?”
“But it’s not a week before the paper comes out.” She thought for a moment. “They print Wednesday night, so if you went down there and talked to Pete tonight, that would give him all day tomorrow to find a place to fit it in.”
He lifted one eyebrow, leaving a half-scowl on his face. “Pete Sanders still runs the paper? I thought he’d have sold it or closed it by now.”
“No. He still works every day. Not bad for a guy his age.” Pausing, she thought of the older man. “I’ll get my purse and go with you.”
It took only a few minutes to drive to the paper office—but then, it only took a few minutes to drive anywhere in Stone Hill. One of the pleasures of small town living. When they got there, the door was locked, but there was a light on inside. “Come on.” Keegan grabbed her hand and pulled her back to his car. Once they were inside, he drove around the block to the alley and parked at the back of the building. After climbing the few steps, then crossing the small dock to the back door edged with empty plastic buckets, boxes, and odd paraphernalia, he twisted the knob and shoved with his shoulder.
As the door swung wide, he pulled her inside with him. “Yo! Pete! You here?”
“Where else would I be?” The answer echoed back. “Come on in.”
After taking a deep breath of the familiar old odors, Keegan flipped on the light so the inky handprints smudging the wall became visible and led her deeper into the building. They passed a room full of computers and worktables, then turned the corner. There, on the right, was the small office.
Pete Sanders met them at the door. Tall and slender with steel gray hair and a face with surprisingly few wrinkles, he was a nice looking man for his age. Single since his wife’s death many years earlier, he was famous around town for his late nights at the office.
“Well, what do you know?” Pete’s face lit up when he saw Keegan. With real pleasure, he ca
ught Keegan’s hand with both of his and shook it. Then, as if he’d suddenly realized she was there, Pete shot her a grin. “Sorry about that, Cassie. I just haven’t seen this fella in way too long. Sit down, you two.”
On one side was a comfortable looking leather couch that might have been there since before statehood. The desk was buried under stacks of debris, with everything from newspapers to files to the remains of a fast food dinner covering it. In front of the desk were two straight-backed wooden chairs.
She headed for the couch with Keegan right behind her.
“I’d heard you were in town. Meant to come by the store and look you up, but you know how it is around here. There’s always some emergency or other to keep me occupied.” Pete rolled his chair around the edge of the desk where he could face them. “Did Keegan tell you he worked for me when he was a kid?”
“Yeah. Remember the time I wanted to skip play practice so I could work, and you fired my ass? Told me if I wasn’t responsible enough to take care of my school obligations, you didn’t want me around.” Keegan laughed and shook his head. “Thank God I learned about responsibility working for you. I wasn’t getting that lesson at home.”
Pete’s answering smile was a sad one. “I knew you had the makings of a good man, if you had a chance. You just needed someone to give you a little boost now and then.”
“If you hadn’t been here to give me advice, I might have been fool enough to go along with my parents when they got sucked into that cult. Or to let Miriam go.” With a faraway look, Keegan shook his head. “Glad you were around.”
“Well, you know what they say. What goes around comes around.” Then Pete cracked a smile. “Besides, your Aunt Hattie had been down here, bending my ear about your fool parents, so I was forearmed, so to say.”
Keegan glanced at Cassie, then looked back at Pete. “We need to ask you to do something. I have to warn you, though, I’ve already been to the Austin paper and they turned me down.”
Crossing his arms, Pete leaned far back in his chair. “Well, I never did let them make the decisions here at the Sentinel. What is it?”
After explaining about the article, Keegan turned to Cassie. “Did I leave anything out?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered softly, hoping Pete would help them. “Except, if you don’t want to run the article, we would be willing to pay to run it as an ad.”
Blinking slowly, Pete shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll run it. I just can’t figure why the police aren’t taking care of this. If there’s even a possibility of a serial killer, it’s their obligation to warn the public. But with Mitch on the city council, and it being Christmas, he’d be afraid it might send people into the city to shop. Kinda like that shark movie, where they let the big monster eat the swimmers so they wouldn’t scare the summer visitors off. Sounds like this serial killer is Stone Hill’s great white shark.”
Keegan slid to the edge of the couch. “Then you’ll write it?”
“Nope.” Pete let the word hang in the air for several moments. “But I’ll print it if you write it—and if you’ll agree to also write a series of articles on the women who’ve died. More than just obit stuff. Let the public know the real deal about these women. Who they were. Their likes and dislikes, warts and all. Show them they weren’t just a picture, they were real people.”
Standing, Keegan shook Pete’s hand. “All right. I’ll do it.”
As they drove back to the apartment house, Cassie gazed at Keegan in the dim light. “Have you tried the television stations in Austin? Or radio?”
His glance sent a hot thrill spiraling through her. How long had it been since he’d made love to her? Although it had barely been a week, it seemed like forever—and as if it had just happened. “No, but we’re seventy miles from them, too. I doubt their response will be any different than the Statesman’s. ‘Nobody wants to hear old news from that far away.’ Thank God for Pete.”
“Thank God,” she murmured as they pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot.
After he parked and locked the car, they walked together into the building. On the front door a white piece of paper was taped. Meeting in the community room at 7:00 TONIGHT! Attendance is mandatory. The paper was signed Marcie Masters.
“I wonder why she left Miss Ruthy out?” Cassie glanced at Keegan, who was looking at his watch.
“It’s almost time to be there. Come on. Let’s find out.” As he touched her arm, the warmth that surrounded her when he was close became a lightning storm, drenching her in heat and draining her strength.
Catching a glimpse of her wrinkled clothes, she shrugged. “I’d rather change first.”
His nod was firm. “Then I’ll go with you.”
“N-no.” The thought of having him in her apartment while she took off her clothes robbed her of breath and made her stutter. “You go on to the meeting so you won’t be late. I’ll be right behind you.”
“When I get to the meeting, you’ll be with me.” Dipping his chin so that his gaze burned into hers, he didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move. “Now, do you want to argue a while longer, or get changed so we can get to Miss Marcie’s meeting?”
Realizing she wouldn’t change his mind, she lifted one shoulder in a lame shrug. “When Miss Marcie smacks us both for being late, you remember I warned you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As they neared her apartment, he took her keys and unlocked the door, then stepped inside. After turning on the lights, he looked swiftly around, then stepped back so she could enter. Grateful he cared, she headed for the armoire, where she pulled out a sweatshirt and jeans. “I’ll just be a minute,” she called as she headed for the bathroom to change.
“No hurry,” he answered. “Hey, you’ve got a message on your answering machine.”
“Press the play button for me, would you?” Stepping inside the tiled room, she pulled the door where he couldn’t see inside and started unbuttoning her blouse as she listened.
“Cassaundra, darling! It’s Mummy. I need to speak with you, so give me a call the instant you hear this. Hurry! Kiss, kiss.”
In the time Cassie had worked at the bookstore, she could count on one hand the number of times the woman had called, and she could count on one finger the times she’d called the store. What was she up to?
“Would you like me to leave so you can call her back?” Keegan called.
“I’m not calling her back. Not right away, at least.” After stripping off her shirt and trousers and tossing them into the hamper, she pulled on her jeans, then tugged the sweatshirt over her head. Glancing down, she saw which shirt she’d grabbed. On the front was a tall skinny woman with outrageous pink hair and a polka dot dress and pantyhose. Beneath the woman, in bold pink letters, were the words Put your big girl panties on and deal with it!
In a rush to get to the meeting, she hurried to the armoire and grabbed her Nikes. When she had them tied, she straightened. “Ready?”
As he read her chest, Keegan’s smile blossomed. “Well, are you prepared to...deal with it?”
Ignoring his smirk, she forced a frown. “Deal with what?”
“Miss Marcie’s meeting, of course.” At her nod, he handed her the keys, which she slid into her pocket. “Let’s go.”
After they went downstairs, he opened the back door and they angled across the yard to the community room. He opened the door, where they were met by a glaring Miss Marcie and Miss Ruthy, who was holding a plate of cookies.
Like a naughty child, Keegan took several. “Miss Ruthy’s pecan chocolate chip cookies. My all time favorite.”
There’s coffee in the urn,” Ruthy murmured, then held the plate toward Cassie.
“Will you get this foolishness over with so we can get on with the meeting?” Marcie snapped at Ruthy, then turned on Keegan. “Where is your sister? She’s supposed to be here, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
Taking all the time he could, Keegan set his cookies
on a small paper plate, poured two cups of coffee, and picked up both of them before turning back to Miss Marcie. Why did the old woman, whose heart was as kind as her words were irritating, have to be so aggressive? It always irritated him when she started trying to boss everyone around as if all added together they wouldn’t have enough sense to pour piss out of a boot before jamming a foot in it.
Stifling his annoyance, he pasted a smile on his face. “Why, hello, Miss Marcie. It’s very nice to see you, too. How’s your Christmas season faring?”
“Where is your sister?” Although the words were no louder, spoken through clenched teeth, they carried more force, and were more annoying.
A good frickin’ question. With his life on hold so he could help Miriam out, most of the time he didn’t know where she was or who she was with. He was used to taking care of her and making sure she was safe. Now most of the time she was out there, God knew where, doing God knew what. And he was left standing in the dark. It plain scared him to death.
Drawing a long breath so he wouldn’t spew the words pounding in his brain, he touched Cassie as he handed her the hot drink, then put on a puzzled frown. “You know, I just couldn’t say. I haven’t seen her since she left the store this afternoon. Have you?”
Fists on her hips, the old lady replied, “Of course not. If I’d seen her, I would have gotten her here. Like you should have.”
He glanced around the room, where he saw Mack and Vernon sitting on the couch with their own plate of cookies between them. “Well, you got most of the apartment house here. You can’t expect perfection.”
“I don’t expect perfection,” she snapped. “I’m just trying to find a way to make the people in this apartment house safe. Didn’t you see the papers this evening?”
With a frown, he glanced toward Cassie, who was still chatting with Miss Ruthy. “Can’t say as I did. Why?”