thing, I'd make a lousy lover. Ben, I've been inside too many male minds filled with nothing but violence and hate. I can't just push all that aside, pretend I never saw it, that it never terrified me.'
'You've never been in my mind,' he said quietly.
'I know that.' She steadied her voice with an effort. 'And I know those other minds, those… urges and actions are abnormal. Most men never feel such violence. But accepting that in my own mind doesn't help. I still… I can't help being afraid. Don't you see? There's no trust left in me.'
'I don't believe that.'
'You have to. It's true.'
'Cassie, I would never deliberately hurt you.'
'I'm sure you mean that.' She avoided his gaze.
'But you don't believe it's the truth.'
'I told you. I can't trust anymore. I don't want to get involved, not with anyone. Ben, please, just – let it go, okay?'
He ignored the plea. 'Is it because you can't read me? Because you can't be sure there's no violence in me?'
'I don't know. Maybe.' She had to wonder if it would make things easier if she could read Ben. Or harder.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders. 'Cassie – '
The telephone rang, making her jump, but she was glad to have a reason to move away from him, if only as far as the kitchen wall phone. She picked up the receiver and said hello, hoping she didn't sound as shaky as she thought she did.
'Cassie, it's Matt. Is Ben still there?'
'Yes. Hang on a second.' She held out the receiver, and when he took it immediately moved away and busied herself loading the dishwasher.
'Matt? Have you found her?' Ben kept his gaze on Cassie and shook his head when she looked up questioningly. Then he frowned as the sheriff continued to speak. 'I don't know if that's such a good idea, Matt. We'll just feed the gossip if Cassie comes to your office openly. I know. Yes, I realize that, but – ' He listened for a moment longer, then said, 'All right. We're on our way.'
He hung up the phone and directed all his attention at Cassie. 'You heard. He wants to talk to us in his office. I don't know why he didn't want to tell me over the phone, but he was right when he pointed out that your involvement in the investigation is an open secret by now.'
Cassie closed the dishwasher. 'I'll get my jacket.' She kept her tone as indifferent as she could manage. 'Would you let Max out for a minute, please? I'd like to leave him in the house.'
Ben did as she asked without comment, and by the time she was ready to leave, so was he. He joined her at the front door, picking up a small leather bag she hadn't noticed sitting by the stairs. Cassie didn't ask, but he explained anyway.
'Since my days in the circuit court, I've always carried a packed overnight bag with me in the Jeep. I never knew when I might have to spend a night away from home.'
Cassie set the security system without comment, and they went out to his Jeep. The silence between them was not a comfortable one, and it was broken only once between her house and their arrival at the Sheriff's Department.
'What can I do to teach you to trust me?' Ben asked.
Cassie didn't tell him that if she had not already trusted him, she would never have been able to accept him as a lifeline.
It was probably already too late, but she had to try. No matter how much it hurt.
'Nothing,' she answered.
Abby had listened to the radio all morning, but the local station reported hour by hour that the missing Ryan's Bluff teenager had not yet been found. The Sheriff's Department was asking that anyone with any knowledge or information please come forward, and in the meantime urged everyone to remain calm. Deputies were out in force.
Abby was restless. She hadn't talked to Matt since the previous evening and had slept badly, yet she had been up with the chickens despite feeling tired and out of sorts. She had busied herself all morning by performing her usual weekend chores, but all the housecleaning and washing was done long before noon, and nothing else served to occupy her attention.
The weather was dreary, cold, and overcast, threatening some kind of precipitation all morning, and the last of the snow clung to spots here and there as if inviting more to join it. The radio said the roads were clear but followed that report by stating that the Sheriff's Department was asking everyone to stay off the roads unless they had to be out.
Abby could imagine the calls Matt must be getting, from panicky citizens to furious merchants; no matter what he did, somebody would be unhappy with him, and if he couldn't quickly make the streets safe for everyone…
She was worried about him. He hadn't bargained for this kind of situation, and nothing in his experience had prepared him for it. He was an intelligent man and a shrewd cop, and he would not make many mistakes – but those he made would be out of the conviction that he knew what was best for the town.
The problem was, in this situation there was no 'best,' no right answer for the town – except to catch a particularly brutal, undoubtedly insane killer.
Abby went cold just thinking of Matt in that confrontation. Because he would be there, of course. If they were able to locate the killer, Matt would be first through the door – not because it was his job, but because it was his nature.
The phone rang, and Abby went eagerly to answer it, hoping Matt had found a moment to call. She really needed to hear his voice.
'Hello?'
No one responded, but the line was not silent. Instead, there were sounds of breathing, faint but unmistakable.
'Hello?' Abby repeated, unease growing. 'Is anybody there?'
Just that, just her name whispered. Then a click, and the dial tone.
Ben felt as well as saw Cassie stiffen the moment she preceded him into Matt's office. But that was her only visible reaction as she looked at the man lounging against the filing cabinet beside the sheriff's desk.
'Hello, Bishop,' she said, calm.
'Cassie.' The well-dressed man with the sharp gray eyes smiled, an expression that did not lend the slightest bit of charm to his scarred face.
As Cassie settled into the visitor's chair farthest away from Bishop, Matt introduced Ben to the agent, his own feelings clear in the flatness of his voice.
Ben wasn't dismayed to find an FBI agent in his town, but he was wary – though not for the same reason Matt was. 'Agent Bishop,' he said as they shook hands.
'Judge Ryan.'
When Matt nodded toward the other visitor's chair, Ben took it. There was a leather sofa along the wall beside Bishop, and Ben wondered if the agent remained on his feet because he felt it gave him a tactical advantage.
Matt said, 'Agent Bishop found out about our situation here thanks to newspaper archives and a North Carolina database.'
'And came to offer his expertise?'
'In a manner of speaking.'
Bishop said, 'This isn't an official visit, Judge. As a matter of fact, I'm currently on a sabbatical.'
'I wasn't aware the Bureau offered its agents sabbaticals.'
'It's an uncommon practice. It might be more accurate to say that I had accrued a substantial amount of vacation and leave time over the years.'
Ben glanced at a silent and distant Matt, then looked at Cassie, who was gazing at Matt's desk. The tension in her slight body was visible, even though her face remained expressionless.
Ben had the feeling he was the only one in the room who didn't know what was going on.
