distracted her, he set the bottle of wine he'd brought on the counter, took off his suit jacket and draped it over a barstool at the island, and said, 'I'll go ahead and check all the windows and doors, all right?'
'Supper will be ready in twenty minutes.'
He hoped the subject was going to be dropped, but when they were sitting at the informal breakfast table half an hour later, she brought it up again.
'A kitten, then. Maybe two of them. Cats are quite happy being left on their own for hours, and at least there'd be someone for you when you came home.'
Ben sipped his wine to give himself a moment, then said calmly, 'Mary, I promise you I don't lack for company. I've just been very busy lately and haven't had much time for dating.'
She grimaced slightly when he bluntly replaced cats with women, but followed his lead to ask a direct question of her own. 'What about Alexandra Melton's niece?'
He was startled. 'How the hell did you hear about her?'
'Louise told me. You know we always do the flowers for the church on Saturday. She said she'd seen you at least twice with Alexandra Melton's niece, that there was no mistaking the girl. Is she as interesting as her aunt was, Ben?'
'I hardly knew Miss Melton.'
'And her niece?'
'I barely know her.'
'But what's she Me?'
Ben gave up; Mary, for all her childish voice and moods, could be as relentless as water dripping on stone when she wanted something. 'She looks a lot like Miss Melton, yes. Black hair, gray eyes. Smaller, though, and more fragile.'
'Alexandra was a bit fey. Is her niece? And what is her name anyway?'
'Her name is Cassie Neill.' Ben frowned. 'I wasn't aware you knew Miss Melton except by name.'
'We talked a few times over the years. For heaven's sake, Ben, you can't live in a town this size and not know most of the people, not if you've been here nearly forty years.'
He nodded but said, 'What do you mean by 'fey'?'
'Well, just that. She knew things. Once, she told me to hurry home because Gretchen – Butch and Sunny's mother, you remember her – was having her puppies and there was trouble. There was too. I lost her and had to hand-rear the boys.'
One of the boys thumped his tail against the tile floor, and the other yawned hugely as Ben glanced at them. Looking back at his mother, he said, 'I'd heard a few stories about her seeming to know things and didn't really believe them. But Cassie says her aunt was supposed to be able to predict the future.'
'Then maybe she could. Can Cassie?'
Ben shook his head. 'No.'
'Because you don't believe it's possible, or because she told you she couldn't?' Mary asked, intent.
'Because she told me she couldn't.' Ben didn't see any reason to tell his mother that Cassie's psychic skills lay in quite another direction.
Mary was disappointed. 'Oh. I was hoping maybe she could.'
'So she could tell your fortune?' Ben asked dryly.
Mary lifted her chin. 'As a matter of fact, Alexandra did that. After the thing with the puppies, I asked her if she could tell me anything about my future. She sort of laughed, and then she said that because of my son, I'd meet a tall, dark, and handsome man I'd fall madly in love with and soon marry.'
It sounded so much like the sort of stock prediction common in sideshow fortune tellers' tents that Ben could say only, 'Oh, for God's sake, Mary.'
'It might come true, you don't know.'
Ben sighed. 'Sure it might.'
She stared at him. 'You know, son, you are far too cynical even for a lawyer.'
Since she called him 'son' only when she was seriously annoyed with him, and since Mary annoyed with him could lead to uncomfortable interludes in his life, Ben said contritely, 'I know. Sorry, Mary. I'm just not sure I believe in precognition, that's all.' And it was the truth, even if not all of it.
Somewhat mollified, she said, 'You should open up your mind, Ben. Your imagination.'
'I'll work on that.'
She eyed him. 'You're just humoring me.'
'For your sake, I hope Miss Melton's prediction comes true. If I notice a tall, dark stranger lurking around, I'll definitely invite him here for supper.'
'Now I know you're just humoring me.' But she seemed more amused than annoyed.
Accustomed to her swift changes of mood, Ben merely said, 'Not at all. Fix this chicken dish for him, and I can guarantee he'll be impressed. You're a great cook and you know it.'
'Umm.' She sipped her wine, her eyes bright as she watched him across the table. 'Can Cassie cook?'
'I wouldn't know.'
'You like her, don't you?'
'Yes, I like her.' He kept his voice patient and matter-of-fact. 'No more and no less.'
Mary's face changed, and her eyes filled with quick tears. 'I was so hoping you and Jill would stay together.
She was such a sweet girl, Ben. Even after you broke up she came to visit me and talk about you…'
He hadn't known that. It seemed that Cassie had been right yet
'Who could have done that to such a sweet girl, Ben? And Ivy and that poor girl Becky? What's happening to this town? Who will that monster kill next?'
'Everything will be all right, Mary.'
'But – '
'Listen to me. Everything will be all right.' Recognizing the signs of rising hysteria in his mother, he set himself to the task of reassuring her. He kept his voice level and calm, his words encouraging, and refused to allow her to work herself into a state of panic that would demand sedatives and his presence in the house overnight; it was a condition he knew her quite capable of achieving.
And not for the first time he felt a flash of reluctant sympathy for his dead father.
NINE
FEBRUARY 24, 1999
'You're in my way, you know.' Cassie gently nudged the German shepherd-collie mix to one side so she could open the bottom drawer of the storage chest.
Max whined softly and sat down, watching her with bright, attentive eyes. After a couple of nights and days together, they were growing accustomed to each other, but the young dog was clearly worried by the fact that Cassie was spending so much time digging through drawers and closets. Not that he could be blamed for that, since his original owners had abandoned him when they moved away.
Cassie spared a moment to stroke his head and murmur reassuringly. She had tried explaining that she would not leave him as his former people had, but discovered not only that canine minds were unreadable – at least by her – but also that it was difficult to explain verbally to a dog that she was only sorting through her aunt's things, boxing up what was to be thrown away, given away, or stored.
She wondered if Abby was having an easier time with the full-blooded Irish setter she had fallen in love with.
'Well, maybe I've done enough today anyway,' she decided. 'There are those boxes full of papers downstairs –
