Chapter Seventeen

I rushed over to Cassie and knelt at her side. She was staring up at me, but it was as though she looked right through me.

“Cassie?”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes were unblinking.

“Is she okay?”

I looked back and saw a woman in her seventies wearing a green track suit standing on the sidewalk. Her Shih Tzu had its head cocked to the side.

“Should I call the ambulance?” the woman asked.

I waved her off and redirected my attention to Cassie. I put my hand on her cheek and turned her face toward me. “Can you hear me?”

She slammed her eyelids shut, shook her head, and mumbled something. Her body went rigid. She shook violently for about ten seconds. And then it was over. She sunk into the grass like she’d fallen asleep.

“Cassie? Come on, what’s going on?”

The old woman said, “I’m calling the ambulance now.”

“Just let her be,” I said. “I’m a cop. I got this.”

The old woman cursed at me and dragged her barking dog away. It stood with its legs locked. I turned to yell at it but noticed it wasn’t looking at me or Cassie. It was focused on something else. What did it see that I couldn’t?

“Mitch?” Cassie placed her frigid hand on mine. Her flushed cheeks stood out on her pasty face. The color spread in the next few seconds. “What happened?”

“You tell me. One minute we’re walking and the next you’re flat on your back staring up at the sky.” I pulled her up to a sitting position. “Did you see something?”

Her eyes misted over as she shook her head. “I don’t know. Don’t remember a thing. I blacked out.”

This wasn’t the place to press her for answers. A few neighbors had gathered across the street. The woman and her dog joined them. The beast had stopped its racket. Whatever haunted Cassie had fled.

“All right, well, let’s get you home.” I pulled Cassie to her feet and helped her to the car. We drove straight to her house. Both our cell phones rang several times along the way. Neither of us answered or bothered to check who had called.

I half-expected to see Pennington and Cervantes waiting for us at her house to make another attempt at dragging her down to the station. The street in front was deserted. No one waited on the porch. I canvased the area, sweeping my gaze across the windows of the surrounding houses. No one lingered in the shadows. Business as usual, it seemed.

We headed inside. Cassie retreated to her room, saying she’d be good to go after an hour or so of rest. Fine by me. I headed into the kitchen, poured out the stale coffee, and started a fresh pot. Over the next ninety minutes I drank three cups and caught up on all the latest football news. It was a good week to be away since my Eagles were on a bye. All I needed was for the Cowboys to lose and at least I’d be somewhat happy.

It had been Sam who had called while Cassie and I were driving back to her house. He hadn’t left a message, and wasn’t picking up now. Did he have something new regarding my suspension? It would be like Huff to have Sam relay it to me.

I was on the phone with Momma checking up on Ella Kate when Cassie entered the kitchen. She’d changed into a pair of pink gym shorts and a white tank top. In the years I’d known her, I couldn’t recall ever seeing her bare arms or legs. The scars from her attack were visible, peeking out from the fabric clinging to her breasts. I must’ve let my eyes linger a second too long, because she folded her arms across her chest to cover up. I glanced up. Her cheeks were red, but she forced a smile.

“Sorry, I forgot you were here. I should’ve covered up better.”

“Hey, it’s your house. Do what you want. I’m not really complaining.”

“Mitch….” She looked flustered for a second. “I should change anyway. Those two will be here soon. Cervantes always ogles me, and I don’t want to give him any more imagery than I have to.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want that guy walking around thinking about me.”

“He already is, except in your case, he’s thinking of ways he can get rid of you.” A smile played at the corner of her lips. “Or pound your face into the concrete.”

“Spirits tell you that?”

She smiled and shrugged and then left the room. I leaned over to watch her walk down the hall. A few minutes later she returned wearing dark jeans and a black sweater.

“It’s still almost ninety degrees out, you know,” I said.

“I’m comfortable.”

“You must’ve been freezing before. Every time you’ve touched me, it felt like ice formed on my skin.”

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed my empty mug off the table. I caught a hint of Moroccan oil as her hair spilled over her shoulder. “The coffee’s fresh?”

“Made it while you were napping.”

She grabbed a second mug, filled both, and returned to the table. The next fifteen minutes were spent in an oddly comfortable silence. I checked my phone a couple times, finding nothing new, while Cassie flipped through the pages of a local Savannah Living magazine. Live oaks dripping with Spanish moss adorned the cover.

The knock at the door we’d been waiting on finally arrived. I waited in the kitchen while she attended to the guests. She returned with Pennington close behind. He nodded as he shrugged off his sport coat. It caught on his pistol’s handle. After he freed it, he draped the coat over a chair and sat down.

“Where’s the brooder?” I asked.

Pennington flashed a grin. Looked like he bleached his teeth. They were the brightest thing in the room. “Sent him home for the afternoon. His kids got a Fall Ball baseball tournament. Cerv was pretty broken up that he couldn’t coach the team. It’s pretty much his only way of connecting with his boys. But our case load is too damn heavy what with the budget cuts that’ve stripped our department bare. I’m sure you can relate.”

I gave him a nod and mulled over what he’d said. Maybe I wasn’t giving Cervantes enough of a chance. Perhaps this was why Cervantes was so on edge with me. Maybe he was like that with everyone these days. Overworked and underpaid rarely made for a content worker. Throw a stranger into the mix on a high-profile case, and fireworks could erupt.

Pennington unzipped a leather binder and continued. “Not like we need him for this right here. Our dear Cassie is the star of the show for now.”

“Coffee, Detective?” she said.

“I already drank two pots today. Any more and I’ll be running naked through the Squares at two a.m.”

“Make sure it’s not the one in front of my rental.”

Pennington chuckled. “You can guarantee it will be.” His demeanor changed as he set the binder on the table.

Cassie remained by the counter. Her gaze drifted from the detective to the folder Pennington had pulled from his binder. It contained pictures. Not of crime scenes, but of men. Which men, I wondered. A random sampling, some with connections to the four women who lived at the house, possible suspects, and a few unconnected, just to test her?

“Cassie,” Pennington said. “You ready for this?”