When Ellen and the man had been driving up the mountain, the wind had blown her hair back, revealing her neck and ears. It had been a ragtop, Cassandra was certain of that! Surely there were thousands of convertibles in the state of Tennessee, but this one was parked here. She slipped from the car and began a slow weave among the parked vehicles, making sure she crouched low.
She had to get a look at the car. Maybe there was a clue she'd remember, some portion of the interior. The least she could do would be to get the license plate number.
Gravel scuffled beneath her feet, and she stopped to listen for the sounds of anyone about. Her actions were impetuous, she knew, but they were also necessary. Besides, what harm was there in looking at a car, even if she were caught? There wasn't a law against admiring a vehicle.
As she drew closer, she could see that the car was dark blue, a midnight color that reflected the stars. Expensive paint job, expensive car. She was three cars away when she heard the voices.
"I'm afraid, Ray."
Cassandra immediately recognized the waitress Sarah's voice.
"Come on, baby, you're not the type to get so shook up over nothing." The man's voice was soft, persuasive.
"You don't understand. They followed me. She did, anyway, back into the kitchen. She looked wild. She was talking like a crazy woman about someone getting hurt and those awful murders."
"So, you said she was a local with an odd reputation. I've worked with some of those fortune-tellers, and they are weird." He laughed softly. "I never could tell if they acted that way deliberately, you know, for effect, or if they couldn't help it."
"She scared me."
He chuckled. "So you called the sheriff."
"Yeah." She laughed, too. "I never thought I'd see the day when I called a lawman. Especially not since I met you."
They laughed together, a warm, intimate sound.
"See there, you're feeling better already."
"Because you came," Sarah said. "You always make me feel better, Ray. How long do you think you'll be in town?" A note of sadness entered her voice.
"Another three weeks at least. The take has been good. I'm trying to talk the boss into staying longer. Gatlinburg is a great place for us. Tourists flooding in left and right. New folks every day." He grinned. "New suckers. By the way, thanks for loaning me that cash. The information I got in that note is worth a fortune. You'll get your money before we pull out."
"I know, I'm not worried about it. When you leave here, where will you go?" Sarah's voice sounded already as if she missed him.
"The plan is to head up the East Coast and across the northern states. It's easier up there in the summer. We swing south for fall and into Florida for the winter."
"I've never been out of this state," Sarah said softly. "One day I'm going to travel."
"Come with me and I'll show you the world," Ray said, his voice taking on the tones of a performer.
"Right now, that sounds like a tempting offer. Do you mean it?"
"I don't think the road is the life for you, Sarah."
There was the briefest pause. When Sarah spoke again, her voice was brisk. "Yeah, you're right. I've got my own life here, and it isn't so bad. Now I'd better get back inside or I won't have a job. Thanks for coming to talk with me."
"Don't let that woman bother you. It really isn't any of your business what your friends do."
"You're probably right." Doubt had returned to Sarah's voice. "It's just that if something bad happened to her, I'd feel it was my fault."
"She's a big girl. Let her handle her own affairs."
"I did warn her never to bring anyone home. I just wish she wouldn't go riding around with that guy. She doesn't know him. He's strange, too. He always makes some excuse for not meeting at the restaurant, like he don't want to be seen. Like maybe I'd know him."
"That's really jumping to a conclusion." Ray's voice was tense. "Women come up with the damnedest ways of thinking about things. Maybe he's just busy, you know."
"I don't think so. Maybe he's married."
"Quit looking for trouble." There was a warning in Ray's voice. "You might find it."
"I've learned to take care of myself." Resentment was evident in Sarah's voice. "I've gotta get back inside."
Ray laughed. "Don't stay mad, Sarah. I'll be here when you get off work. You promised me some fun tonight. I'm taking you to the fair. Maybe you can forget your troubles on one of the rides." His laugh was confident.
Cassandra crouched almost to the pavement. Looking around the bumper of a little compact, she saw Sarah walk out from under the big tree and head for the restaurant. Her back was erect, angry as she walked away. Cassandra held her breath. All she needed was to get caught spying on the waitress again. Sheriff Beaker would follow through on his threat and put her in jail.
The man Sarah had been talking with remained in the shadows. Rocks and grit digging into her palms, Cassandra waited. She had to get a look at him. There had been something in his behavior, something sinister. Did he care for Sarah? Cassandra got the impression that he did not. Just why, she couldn't say.
Footsteps scruffed closer to her and she pressed against the body of the car.
"Well, well," the man called Ray said softly. He whistled in the night, and even though Cassandra couldn't see him, she thought he was admiring the convertible.
A car door opened and slammed. Cassandra dared a look and saw Ray sitting behind the driver's wheel of the car. In a quick glance, she saw that his hair was overly long and straight. Thick, heavy hair. His shoulders were broad, very muscular. Ray was a man who built his body, structured it as an architect would design a building. She could see the bulge of his biceps as he threw a long arm over the back of the passenger seat, enjoying the feel of the car.
In a fluid movement, he sprang out from behind the wheel and landed beside the car. She could not clearly see his face, but she couldn't ignore the perfection of his body. Narrow waist and hips tapered down to strong legs. Whatever Ray did, he had plenty of time for himself, she thought, and plenty of that special discipline necessary to work on his appearance.
Narcissism? Taken to the extreme, it could be a sign of unbalance.
The kind of unbalance that led a man to kill women for pleasure?
She backed slowly around the car, her hands and feet inching in increments that made her leg muscles scream. Ray frightened her. He was so sure of his own physicality, his own prowess. Inch by painful inch, she made her way back to Adam's car. She eased in the door, closed it softly and then locked both doors and threw herself across the seat.
Her heart pounded as she waited for Adam's return.
It seemed like an eternity before she heard a fumbling at the locked door. She chanced a look, relieved to see Adam peering in the car window.
She sprang the lock and sat up.
"Napping?" he asked because he couldn't see the fright on her face.
"Sarah was out here with some man. Adam, I got some bad feelings from him."
"I checked the entire restaurant and didn't see her. Or anyone who looked like the Ellen you described. None of the waitresses would even talk with me. They served me coffee and avoided me like the plague."
"There's a car, a convertible, parked under the tree at the west end of the parking lot. I wanted to get the license number, but I got frightened and left."
"I can get it," Adam said quickly. "If you really think it's important."
"Watch out for the bodybuilder who was hanging around it. His name is Ray, and he gives me some bad feelings."
"I'll be back in a minute." He gave her a stern look. "You stay put."
Cassandra counted to three hundred, slowly, before Adam returned.
"The car is gone."
"What?" Cassandra peered through the windshield. "It was there just a few minutes ago. I was hiding, but I should have heard a car driving by."
"Are you certain it was there?" Adam felt strange. What seemed to be reality wasn't. Dreams for
etold the future. Women were dying and cars disappeared. "Maybe it went by and you didn't hear it."
"No." Cassandra got out of the car and walked straight across the parking lot to where the convertible had been parked. Adam was right. The space beneath the tree was empty. A little-used trail led away from restaurant.
"I see where he went," Adam said, only a few steps behind Cassandra.
"At least I'm not completely losing my mind."
"Your dreams are the only clues we have." Adam reached out to her and stroked her hair. "Sheriff Beaker doesn't believe in them, but with each passing hour, I believe more and more. And I also know that this isn't something you volunteered for. You're as caught up in it as the young women who have died."
"You're a special guy." Cassandra took the half step across the darkness and into his arms. "A very special man. Let's go home."
They returned to the car and took the highway. "Tomorrow, I need to check on your car. I don't mind leaving you while I run errands, but I don't like the idea that you don't have transportation if you need to come to town. The shop said it should be ready by tomorrow, and we can pick it up."
"Good idea. Now that the phone is fixed and my car repaired, I'm back in business." The startling thought that Adam might leave crossed her mind. He'd stayed because a series of incidents had put him in a position to protect her. Would he continue to stay? He did have a business to run. He had a life that had nothing to do with her. When would he leave? It wasn't a question she was going to ask.
As they pulled into her yard, Cassandra caught sight of Familiar on the front porch. He was sitting on the railing as if he'd lived there his entire life.
"I think I should place an ad about the cat," she said slowly. "I've gotten very attached to him, but what if he's someone else's pet and they're worried about him?"
"My opinion is that Familiar could never belong to anyone. He might live with them, but he belongs only to himself."
Cassandra laughed softly. "He does give that impression, but there's something else there. He's looking for someone. I know you're going to think I'm crazy for sure, but have you noticed that he watches the news? Not local, but national news."
Adam started to laugh, but he checked the impulse. He'd been startled when he found the cat could operate the television. And it was true, Familiar turned it on and off. In fact, the times he'd seen the set on and the cat watching it, a news program had been on.
"You're right," Adam said. "That's damn amazing."
"With everything else going on, I haven't devoted enough time to Familiar, but I'm going to tomorrow. That cat and I are going to have a little chat."
"Find anything interesting out in the dark?" Adam asked the cat as he stroked his back and chin.
With lightning quick speed, Familiar snagged his hand in a gentle grip.
"Is that a yes?" Adam asked, laughing as Cassandra unlocked the door. "I think your other guest has sleuthed up some evidence."
Once the door was open, Cassandra walked to the rail and picked Familiar up in her arms. "I bet he probably has," she said, walking in the front door with him. "If only we could get this guy to talk."
"If only," Adam agreed.
Cassandra opened a can of salmon for Familiar and put fresh water down before she was ready to call it quits for the night. Adam was watching her.
"Would you like for me to stay in your room tonight?" he asked. "I know you're worried about the dreams."
"I was thinking. Maybe if I didn't dream, then it couldn't happen," Cassandra said carefully. "Do you think?"
Adam went to her and put his arms around her, holding her close. "I don't think that for a minute. You have nothing to do with the events, Cassandra. You simply reflect them in your dreams."
"Ellen is alive. Even though I witnessed her abduction in my dream, she's still alive."
"Possibly. It could be that the sheriff simply hasn't found another body yet."
That thought hadn't occurred to Cassandra. "If that's true, then Sarah is a waste of time."
"I've considered that. The important thing for you to understand now is that you are a spectator, not a participant. You have nothing to do with events."
"Except that I might be able to stop them."
"Maybe, maybe not. I'm not certain of that either way."
"I don't want to dream tonight."
"I'll stay with you." Adam pressed her closer. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her. And he wanted to arouse her and make her want him.
Cassandra reacted to the change in the way he held her. His hands shifted only a fraction, an awakening of touch. He had moved from comfort to desire, and her skin tingled with her own barely contained emotions.
Adam affected her in ways she'd never thought possible. He behaved as the perfect gentleman, the undaunted protector, and she knew instinctively that if she gave the slightest indication that that was the only role she wanted him to play, then he would step back into it. But it wasn't the only role he wanted to play in her life.
He wanted her. She saw it in his eyes in tiny moments when he wasn't aware that she was watching him. He guarded that desire in order to protect her. It was a humbling thought, that he would put her needs before his. As she'd come to know him, she also realized that she'd grown to appreciate so many things about him.
His hands slid down her back and she sighed softly, momentarily disrupting her thoughts and replacing them with a delicious sensation. That was what she wanted, not to think and weigh and worry. All of her life she'd lived with a need for rational thought. Tonight she wanted to yield to her emotions, her needs. She wanted him. She wanted to feel his chest pressed against hers, skin to skin. She wanted to twine her legs with his against the crisp, cool sheets of her bed.
His lips caught her neck and a sensation that made her gasp surged through her. Her own hands explored his back, the contours of his muscles and the lean planes of his hips.
She felt his fingers lace into her hair and gently drew back her head until their gazes met. Fire danced in his eyes. She opened her lips slightly for his kiss, inviting him to explore with abandon. She gave herself to the kiss, to the sensations that Adam evoked.
She felt his fingers on her blouse, working the small buttons. Her own hands were busily at work with his shirt. She had to know the feel of him, skin to skin.
He pushed her shirt down her arms, freeing it quickly, then removed her bra. In a moment she had his shirt untucked and free of his body. At the first brush of his chest against hers, Cassandra reached high to put her arms around his neck. She was stretched against him, reveling in the feel of him.
"We could finish this in the bedroom," she whispered against his collarbone.
"We could," he agreed, his hands sliding up her ribs to feel the weight of her breasts. "Maybe we should."
"That's the first indecisiveness I've ever seen you display," she said as she trailed kisses along the well-developed muscles of his chest. She slipped her fingers around his hand and drew him after her, one slow step at a time. With each step, she kissed a fraction of an inch lower.
At the door of her bedroom, she stopped. "Made up your mind yet?" Her eyes were dancing with mischief and desire.
"I think so." Adam smiled. "A few more kisses and I should be positive."
Cassandra laughed as they stepped into the bedroom.
* * *
THE HUCKLEBERRIES were firm as she poured them into the colander to clean. She'd picked them herself. She was humming when she dumped them into the muffin batter. She was still humming when the muffins came out of the oven, hot and delicious.
The tray was prepared, and she took it to the bedroom.
"Morning," she said as she placed it on the chest of drawers while she bent over Adam for a kiss.
"Morning?" He lifted his eyebrows. "It was midnight only a few minutes ago."
"How quickly we forget," Cassandra said. "And just last night you promised me you'd remember every second."
Adam pulled h
er down onto the bed with him. "I remember. I was hoping you'd show me again, though. There's this one part that I forget. It comes after we kiss for a long, long time."
"Breakfast first." Cassandra kissed his forehead, his nose, his chin and finally his lips. "You need to keep up your strength."
"I don't feel weak," Adam said. He wound his fingers in her hair. "I feel caught in your golden web."
"Yes, you're such a helpless victim." She laughed and rolled away from him. "I've put some special potions in this breakfast and I can't let it go to waste. You know, a little mandrake root, a few gnat's wings and chicken feathers." She picked up the tray and put it across his lap. When it was comfortably settled, she took a seat on the bed and picked up her own cup of tea.
"This is wonderful." Adam took a bite of a muffin and licked his lips. "Wonderful."
"An old family recipe," Cassandra said with a sinister tone in her voice. "A charm from a fortune-teller."
She was about to embellish more when the telephone rang. "Now who could be calling so early," she said as she got up. "That's the trouble with getting the phone repaired. People can call us." She went to the den where the only telephone was located.
Adam put his cup down. The first thing that crossed his mind was that Sheriff Beaker was calling because he'd found another body— one with shoulder-length chestnut hair. He didn't give voice to his thoughts. Cassandra was so beautiful, so delightfully carefree this morning. If it were bad news, it would come from someone other than him.
He heard her say hello, and then there was a pause. A second later she was standing in the bedroom door.
"It's for you."
"Me?" Adam was as puzzled as she was. He put the tray aside and went to the phone.
"Adam, Martin West here. Just thought maybe you'd changed your mind about appearing on my show."
"Mr. West, my decision stands. Please don't call here again." He was about to hang up when he heard Martin's voice.
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