'Stop doing that,' Matt said as he also got to his feet.
'I'm sorry – you were thinking loudly again.' She offered him a small smile, then left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.
'Well? 'Ben said.
Matt shook his head. 'I still don't know if I buy any of this.'
'She's reading you like a book.'
'Yeah, yeah. And a fake fortune teller can read a total stranger pretty well just with body language. It's a skill, Ben. And not a paranormal one.'
'Did your body language tell her about Abby Montgomery? It sure as hell never told me. And be careful with that, will you?'
Matt ignored the warning. 'I don't know how she knew about me and Abby. But I'm still not convinced. My investigation of this murder is going by the book. Most murder victims know their killers, so family and friends have to be checked out. Coworkers, classmates. The usual drill. We'll look for witnesses who might have seen Becky talking to somebody in the last day or two. We'll check out her background and recent history, look for connections, for motives. What we will not do is start thinking we've got a serial killer on the basis of one crime.'
'I can't tell you how to do your job.'
Matt grunted. 'Why stop now?'
Ben smiled but said, 'What have you told Eric?' Eric Stephens published the local daily newspaper.
'Bare facts. That Becky was murdered. With any luck at all, word won't get around about how she was found. Or about the coin. I sure as hell don't expect a copycat killer, not around here, but the less the public knows about the details, the less likely we are to have a panic on our hands.'
'Maybe they should panic,' Ben said soberly. 'Matt, if we do have a serial killer – '
'If we do, I'll slap a curfew on this town and have all the girls escorted by family or traveling by twos at all times. I'm not afraid to scare the hell out of them, Ben. I just won't do it needlessly.'
'Let's hope you won't have to,' Ben said.
'Hi.'
Cassie, who had been leaning back against a decorative lamppost on the sidewalk in front of the Sheriff's Department with her face turned up to the mild February sun, looked around at the greeting and blinked to focus. She found herself being studied by a smiling woman maybe a few years older than herself, a very attractive blue- eyed blonde.
'Hi.'
'Excuse me – I didn't mean to bother you, but you remind me of someone. Alexandra Melton. Any relation?'
'She was my aunt. I'm Cassie Neill.' Her voice was friendly, but she kept her hands on the post behind her.
'Ah, that explains the resemblance. I'm Jill Kirk-wood. Nice to meet you. I knew your aunt – though not very well, I'm afraid. I own the craft store across the street there, and she came in occasionally.'
'She must have liked you,' Cassie commented.
'Because she came in the store?'
'No.' Cassie smiled. 'Because she didn't do crafts.'
Jill Kirkwood blinked. 'But – she bought things. Supplies. And all kinds of kits.'
'I know. I found them in her house. In a trunk in a spare room. As far as I can tell, she never even opened any of the kits.'
After a moment Jill laughed. 'I'll be damned. I figured she had a house full of the stuff by now, even though she never brought anything in to show me, the way most of my customers do.'
'As I said, she must have liked you.'
'I know I liked her. She was…'
'Odd?'
'Different.' Jill smiled. 'She told me once where I could find a ring I'd lost. Said she had a knack for things like that. And she was right. The ring was right where she'd said it would be.'
Whatever Cassie might have responded to that was prevented by the arrival of Ben, who joined them on the sidewalk.
'Hi, Jill, 'he said.
'Ben. Have you met – '
'Yes, Cassie and I have met. As a matter of fact, I'm giving her a ride back to her house.'
'Oh? Well, then, I won't keep you.' She smiled at Cassie. 'Nice meeting you. Come into the store sometime – if you're more interested in crafts than Miss Melton was.'
'It was nice meeting you,' Cassie said with a smile, not committing herself any further.
'Bye, Ben.'
'Jill.'
Cassie walked slightly ahead of him to his Jeep. She didn't say anything until they were inside and heading down Main Street. Then, mildly, she said, 'If you'd come out of the Sheriff's Department a few minutes later, I might have had a new friend.'
'What?'
'Jill Kirkwood. I liked her.'
Ben shot her a glance. 'Good. She's a nice lady.'
'Um. But she doesn't like me. Not now.'
'Why not?'
'Because of you. Some ex-lovers don't want to let go. She doesn't. Other women are a threat – even without reason.'
Ben was silent for a moment. 'Now I know how Matt felt. It's a little unnerving to be an open book.'
'You aren't,' Cassie said. 'But Jill Kirkwood is. Her emotions were… strong. They were hard to ignore. Impossible to ignore.'
Again Ben hesitated before speaking. 'Can you readme?'
She shook her head, then looked at him rather curiously. 'Not the way I can some, without even trying.'
'Could you if you touched me?' Instantly he could feel her tense, almost draw in on herself.
'Probably. Usually. It's a rare person – a very rare nonpsychic – who is able to shield thoughts and emotions, especially well enough to withstand physical contact. For most people there was never a reason to learn, so they didn't.'
Ben held a hand out palm up between them. 'Care to put it to the test?'
She looked at his hand, then met his eyes. 'If you don't mind, I'd rather not.' Her voice was very steady.
He put his hand back on the wheel. 'I'll try not to take it personally.'
'Please don't. You noticed right away – I avoid touching people. All people. It's… simpler for me. Their mental voices don't slip through my walls so easily. Think of what it's like to be in the center of a huge room filled with people. All of them talking.'
'The noise can be overwhelming,' he agreed.
'Not just the noise of thought. The… jagged edges of emotions. The dark flashes of fantasy. The secrets they don't even tell themselves.' She shrugged. 'It's just much less painful and distracting if I shield myself as much as possible. That means doing my best to keep my walls up – and avoiding touch.'
'It's all right, Cassie. I really didn't take it personally.'
'Good.'
A silence fell, and neither of them broke it until Ben turned the Jeep into the long driveway at the Melton place. 'I'll have to start thinking of this as your place rather than the Melton place,' he said absently.
'It doesn't feel like my place yet.'
'You said you'd been here only a few months?'
'Since the end of August.'
He glanced at her. 'We had a lot of snow in December. It must have been lonely out here.'
'There's lonely… and then there's
