too.
'And one more thing.' Matt's voice was level. 'This time your psychic didn't see it coming.'
By the time Ben got to Cassie's house, it was beginning to get dark. Even so, he saw her. She was sitting on the front porch, curled up in one of the two big wicker chairs placed to one side of the front door.
As Ben reached her he said, 'The security system won't do much good if you're outside it, Cassie.' His voice was sharper than he intended it to be.
Almost lost in a sweatshirt several sizes too big, her jean-clad legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, Cassie didn't glance at him. She merely said quietly, 'I had to come out here. It was… all I could smell was blood. It wasn't so bad out here.'
Ben moved the other chair so that it was facing hers and sat, literally placing himself in her line of vision. She still looked past him. No warm hand touched him. 'So you knew he killed again.'
'Yes.' Her face was so pale, even her lips seemed drained of color.
'Why didn't you call me?'
'By the time I could, it was too late. There was nothing anyone could do for her. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'
'Did you see anything this time? Anything that might help us catch this bastard?'
Cassie shook her head slowly. 'No. He – he was wearing some kind of mask.'
'How do you know that? Did he look in a mirror?'
'No. This time I… I didn't connect with him. I connected with her. She was… was crying, but I could see him. He had some kind of mask, a horrible mask. Like something a kid would wear on Halloween.'
Ben frowned. 'Why would he do that? He wasn't planning to leave a witness behind.'
'I don't know. Except… the mask made her even more frightened. Maybe that was it. Maybe he wants them to be afraid.'
'Or maybe he knows you're watching.'
'No.'
'How can you be sure of that? If you connected with her?'
'I'm sure.'
Ben was silent for a moment, then said slowly, 'Why did you connect with her?'
'Maybe because I had met her briefly.' Cassie's voice was growing more distant, and her eyes had an odd, unfocused look to them.
'Do you connect with the victim very often?'
'Not if I can help it. As dark as the mind of a killer is, the mind of his victim is… almost worse. The terror and despair, the agony…' Cassie shook her head again slowly. 'It pulls me in. They pull me in. They're so desperate, so frantic to find a way out.'
He stopped himself from reaching out to her, bad as he wanted to. 'I'm sorry.'
She shivered visibly, and finally looked at him, saw him. But when her gaze touched him, it was cool rather than warm, and such a faint sensation, it was almost ghostly.
'I can't do it anymore.' Her voice was low, hurried. 'I know it's the right thing to do, I know the sight gives me a responsibility, and I've always tried… but I can't do it anymore. I thought I could. I thought there had been enough time… enough peace. I thought I was strong enough. But I'm not. I can't go through it again.'
'Cassie – '
'I can't. I can't help you. I can't help myself.'
'You came to me,' he reminded her quietly.
'I know that. I wanted to help. But I can't. I'm sorry.'
'What you saw today. Were you looking? Were you trying to tap into him – or her?'
'No.'
'Then what choice do you have?'
'I can leave.'
'You left L.A. What good did it do? Cassie, there are monsters everywhere.'
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair.
Ben watched her for several moments, unsettled by his intense desire to touch her, hold her. He had never been attracted to emotionally fragile women, to the opposite, if anything. If he admitted the truth, any woman who was not wholly focused on her own life and career and disinterested in anything more than a casual affair had very quickly found him to be elusive and emotionally remote. As Jill could testify.
So protective impulses and urges to comfort were alien to his nature when it came to women. He preferred to spend the night in a woman's bed so that he could leave long before dawn with a minimum of fuss, and that alone said a great deal about his avoidance of involvement on any level except the physical.
Needy women were definitely not his style. Not that Cassie clung in any way or, indeed, had even reached out to him. On the contrary, she was completely self-contained, and everything about her from the avoidance of touch and even eye contact to her body language said she was literally untouchable.
He thought she needed to be held worse than anyone he'd ever known. But he didn't touch her. Because she would not have welcomed the touch, and because he shied away from offering it.
Finally, her voice drained, Cassie said, 'A few years ago, a cop friend of mine gave me a quotation from Nietzsche. He told me to put it where I could see it every day, to never forget. 'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.
And when you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.' ' She lifted her head and looked at him with exhausted eyes. 'I don't know how many more times I can do it and survive, Ben. Every time I've looked into that abyss, a piece of me stayed there.'
'You could never become a monster.'
'I could lose myself in one. What would be the difference?'
He leaned toward her, elbows on his knees, getting closer without actually touching her. 'Cassie, you're the only one who can decide if the risks are worth taking. The risk of this madman finding out who you are before we find him. The risk of getting too deep in his head. The risk of losing something of yourself in the blackness of his soul. Only you can really know what it might cost you. And only you can decide if the price is too high.'
She gazed at him almost curiously. 'You pointed out one of the risks yourself. That no matter how careful I am, how skilled, the killer is more than likely to find out who I am in this small town of yours. Even so, you believe I should try to help you catch him.'
Ben was silent for a moment, then said, 'If you're leaving Ryan's Bluff, the discussion is over. I understand self-preservation; anyone would. I'll respect that decision, Cassie. But if you're staying here, then you have to help us catch him. Because as long as you're here, you're a potential threat to him. You can see inside his head. Sooner or later he'll find out you can do that. And he'll come after you.'
'So I've convinced you, huh? That psychic ability is real?'
'Let's just say… I'm convinced you're real. I don't pretend to understand it, but I do believe you possess an extraordinary skill. And right now I need that skill to help me catch a monster. Before he kills anybody else in my town.'
Cassie sighed. 'All right.' More than anything else, she sounded defeated. 'What do you want me to do?'
Ben hesitated, almost wishing he had not been so persuasive. 'After a lot of arguing, I finally got Matt to agree that you should go to the crime scene, see if you pick up anything.' He paused, then added roughly, 'But right now I think you should sleep about twelve hours. Tomorrow is soon enough.'
A little laugh escaped Cassie. 'Very nice of you to be concerned, but not very practical or wise. I'd say there's no time to waste. For him to kill again so soon is a very bad sign of worse things to come.'
'Be that as it may, you're exhausted. If you push yourself too hard – '
'You don't have to worry. I won't collapse on you. I'm stronger than you think.' She got to her feet.
Ben rose as well. 'Cassie, a few more hours won't make any difference. She lived alone, and Matt has a couple of his officers standing guard, so the scene won't be disturbed. And it's not going to be a pleasant thing to see, whether you pick up anything or not. You should rest, recover some of your strength first. I'll take you there tomorrow – ' He broke off when she lifted a hand to brush back her hair and he saw the bandage. 'What the hell happened?'
She looked at her hand as if it belonged to a stranger, and answered absently, 'I broke a glass.'
'Have you seen a doctor?'
