'I'm afraid so.'
'And Jill in her shop! Ben, what kind of monster could be doing this?'
Avoiding the obvious retort that if they knew that, the monster would be more easily captured, Ben said patiently, 'I don't want you to upset yourself, Mary. You've got a good security system and the dogs – keep them with you when you're out in the garden.'
'It's just that I'm so far from town,' she said.
Ben started to repeat that she would be fine, but then remembered his missed opportunity to warn Jill. Could he live with himself if something like that happened again? 'I'll tell you what. I should be finished here by five at the latest. I'll come out to the house and check all the locks, make sure the security system is working properly, all right?'
'And stay to supper? I'll fix that chicken dish you like so much.'
He thought fleetingly of his half-formed intention to call Cassie and offer to bring Chinese takeout to her place that evening, and bit back a sigh. 'Sure. That sounds great, Mary. I should be there between five-thirty and six.'
'Bring some wine,' she chirped merrily. 'See you then.'
'Right.' Ben hung up the phone and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. He didn't feel a bit disloyal to his father in wishing his mother would find a kind widower and remarry. She needed a man around, and failing a romantic interest, she naturally turned to her son. For everything.
It wasn't a role Ben enjoyed.
Growing up the only child of a young, emotionally volatile mother and a much older, coldly distant, manipulative father, he had, more often than not, felt like a punching bag. It hadn't helped that his own personality was an uneasy mixture of his genetic heritage; every bit as emotionally sensitive and impulsive as his mother, he had also inherited his father's intellectual detachment, innate wariness, and ability to cloak his feelings behind either charm or coldness.
The mix made him a good lawyer.
He wasn't at all sure it made him a good man.
He was certain it made him a lousy lover.
Jill had deserved better. All she had wanted from him had been emotional closeness, an intimacy beyond the physical, and since they had been seeing each other for several months by that point, she had certainly been entitled to ask.
In response, he had only grown cooler and more distant, burying himself in work and offering her less and less of his time, his attention. Himself.
Even then Ben had realized what he was doing, yet he'd been powerless to do anything else. He had valued her love, but her conspicuous need of him had made him feel obligated. Not obligated to commit himself to her, but to open himself to her, and it was something he was simply unable to do.
He didn't know why that was true. But he did know that Jill had not been the only woman in his life whose attempts to get closer to him had been rebuffed, only the most recent.
After weeks of distancing himself he had coolly suggested that their relationship was simply not working. Jill hadn't been very surprised, and she hadn't subjected him to an emotional scene, but her unhappiness had been obvious.
She had deserved better.
Ben felt that he'd abandoned her twice. First because he hadn't been able to love her, and then before her death, when a warning from him might have made a difference.
'Judge?'
He looked up with a start to find his secretary standing in the open doorway. 'Yes, Janice?'
'The sheriff called while you were on with your mother. He wants you to come by his office before six if you can. Says he's found out something interesting about a piece of evidence in these murders.'
'Tell Sheriff Dunbar,' Cassie said immediately. A prediction about dying at the hands of a madman would be terrifying enough to live with normally, she thought, but with a serial killer stalking the town, it became more than imperative that Abby take some steps to protect herself. And even though they had just met, Cassie had seen too many scenes of violence recently not to feel a chill of fear for Abby.
Abby's smile wavered even more. 'What makes you think I haven't already?'
'A hunch.'
'Pretty good one.'
'Why haven't you told him?'
'Because he wouldn't believe it. He's an atheist, did you know that?'
Cassie shook her head.
'Yes. He goes to church because it's politically expedient, but he considers religion nothing more than myth and superstition.' She paused, then added, 'In other words, on a par with psychic ability.'
'If there is no God, there can be no magic,' Cassie murmured.
'Something like that.'
Cassie sighed. 'It's so difficult for most people to believe that it's just another sense, like sight or hearing. That
'Matt will probably never understand,' Abby said. 'It's just too alien to him. He wouldn't be listening to you at all if it weren't for Ben. But even when they were kids, Ben was always the one trying new things and Matt always followed Ben's lead.' She lowered her voice. 'Plus, you knew we were seeing each other, and that shook him up more than he'll admit. But he's not at all inclined to put any faith in psychic ability.'
'Surely he'd heed a threat to you?'
'He'd think Miss Melton was just trying to scare me – for some undoubtedly mercenary reason. He never knew your aunt, and he'd never believe how upset she was when she told me, how reluctant.'
Cassie shook her head. 'That's the part I don't understand.'
'You mean, why she'd tell me I was doomed?'
'Exactly. As a rule, prophecies tend to herald some kind of tragedy, but no responsible psychic would offer such a warning to someone if there was nothing they could do to change a terrible fate.' Cassie kept her voice matter-of-fact.
Abby frowned. 'I hardly knew her, of course, but I got the distinct feeling it was something she didn't want to tell me. She seemed to force herself to get the words out. And she kept repeating that the future was never static, that human will could influence fate.'
'Then she thought you could change what she saw.'
'Or else just wanted to soften the blow.'
Cassie shook her head. 'If that were the case, why tell you at all? I can't believe she was cruel, and to offer you a bleak and unalterable vision of the future would definitely be cruel. No, my guess is that she told you because she thought if you knew, you could do something to avoid the fate she saw for you.'
'Such as?'
'I wish I knew. Sometimes avoiding an event is as simple as turning left instead of right at the next traffic light you encounter.' She sighed. 'I'm sorry, I wish there was something more helpful I could tell you, but even if I had my aunt's gift, I'd still have to interpret what I saw. There are so many possible outcomes for any situation.'
'That's what your aunt said.'
'I don't know what I'd do in your shoes,' Cassie said. 'But telling the sheriff would be a good start. He told me he'd known a few people who were deceived by psychics, but surely he'd pay attention to a warning concerning you, especially when it was given by a woman with nothing to gain.'
'He's more likely to get mad at me for taking the warning seriously. To him, it's always some kind of con.' Abby paused, then added, 'He's convinced you're conning them.'
'I know.'
'He's a good man. But he can be stubborn as hell.'
Cassie smiled. 'His mistrust doesn't bother me much. Or hasn't so far. So far, it hasn't been costly.'
