Authors: Maralee Lowder
“The hell with them.
Why should I care what a bunch of idiots have to say?
It’s not gossip I’m worried about.
There’s something a lot more serious going on here than a little gossip.
“I think I got something here,
Sarge
,” one of the men called from Cassie’s bedroom.
Mac turned to Cassie, his brow tightening into a scowl when he saw the book in the officer’s hand.
“What’s that -
her diary?” the sergeant asked as he reached out for the book.
“You’ll have to ask the lady.
It’s written in some sort of hieroglyphics or something.”
“Would you like to tell me exactly what this book is?”
T
he sergeant held the book out to Cassie.
“She’s not telling you anything until you tell u
s what she’s being arrested for, a
nd I don’t remember hear
ing anyone reading her
Mirandas
either.”
“Oh, we’ll get to all
that,
buddy.
Believe
me,
we’re going to do this thing all nice and legal.
And while I’m reading her
her
rights, I think I’ll just include you in there too.
You don’t look so squeaky clean to me.”
Mac had heard the words, “Y
ou have the right
...” thousands of times in his life, but he had never before experienced the sensation of hearing them directed toward
himself
.
It was an experience he would just as soon have avoided.
But those words were nothing compared to the ones that followed.
“Cassandra Adams, I am placing you under arrest.”
The deputy’s voice droned on as he read Cassie her rights, but Mac stopped paying attention to what he was saying.
All he could think of at that moment was Cassie.
Had the entire world gone crazy,
he wondered as he gazed into her frightened eyes.
“You take sleaze
to a new low, McCormick.
” Sheriff Whitaker spat the words out, not bothering to hide his contempt.
“I’ve known reporters to pull some pretty low stunts to get a story, but sleeping with Cassie Adams just to
get the inside track
wins the prize.”
He slammed Mac’s press ID onto the table, the act demonstrating his disgust.
“You don’t understand …
” Mac started to expl
ain his association with Cassie
but was stopped by the expression in the Sheriff’s eyes.
Mac wasn’t sure he understood his relationship with Cassie himself.
How could he hope to explain it to Walt Whitaker?
“Yeah, right.
And next I suppose you’re going to tell me you don’t really work for
The
Inquisitor
, that
you’re only in town for a little rest and relaxation.”
Mac picked up his identification.
Not bothering to respond to the Sheriff’s comments, he slipped it into his pocket.
What could he say?
Examining the situation through the professional eyes of a law enforcement officer, what other conclusion could be expected?
“Actually, you did the girl a favor, though I doubt that was your intention.
You’ve given her an alibi for last night’s murder.
I may not think much of you, but I’m inclined to believe you when you say you two spent the whole night together at her place.”
Mac was itching to question Sheriff Whitaker about this second murder.
What a scoop that would be.
But the threatening expression on the man’s face warned him off.
“Because of you, we’re letting Cass
ie go, for the time being
.
But I’m warning
you,
don’t get any big ideas about taking off with her.
She’s not all the way out of the woods yet.”
If possible, the scowl on the Sheriff’s face deepened even further.
“As far as that goes, neither are you.
You stick around town yourself,
you hear
?”
“Are you telling me I’m a suspect?”
“I’m telling you that until we get this mess so
rted out, everyone’s a suspect,
you included.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
One look at Cassie’s sweat-
covered, bleached out face had Mac searching frantically for the nearest bathroom.
“Over here,” he said as he shoved her through the door of the men’s room.
Three men in deputy uniforms gazed at the pair in astonishment.
“Sorry, guys, but the little lady’s going to be sick.
You wouldn’t want her throwing up all over your nice marble floors, would you?”
Without a word, all three exited, one of them positioning himself at the door to warn off any other unsuspecting males.
Too nauseated to care where she was, Cassie was grateful that she managed to hold off being sick until Mac unceremoniously shoved her into one of the bathroom stalls.
Drenched in a chilling sweat and shaking uncontrollably, she was comforted by his steady hand on her brow, another supporting her back.
Normally she would have been mortified for anyone to see her like this, but instead of embarrassing her, his presence comforted her, much as Myra’s had when she had been sick as a child.
“Done?” he asked after a few moments.
At her answering nod, he gently li
fted her and guided
her out of the stall and over to a sink.
He dipped paper towels into cool water and wiped the sweat from her face.
She cupped water into her hands to rinse her mouth.
“Hey!
How long are you two going to be in there?
We got a line waiting
out here,
” a voice called through the door.
“Ready?”
Mac asked.
Cassie pulled herself to her full height, all five feet two inches, and nodded.
“Then let’s get out of here.
I think we could both use a little fresh air.”
“Damn!” Mac cursed under his breath as they stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun.
“Doesn’t that creep
have his own church somewhere o
r does he always do his preaching in public places?”
Mac comme
nted,
referring to Samuel
Hicks
who once again had managed to gather a small but vociferous group of followers on the sidewalk before the Sheriff’s office.
“God almighty, that guy has the best nose for smelling out trouble that I’ve ever seen.
A person might think he had a friend in uniform,” Mac commented dryly.
Though the man’s very presence irritated Mac no end, his main concern was Cassie.
Could she handle another confrontation with the little weasel after what she’d just been through?
But one glance in her direction eased his fears.
With a toss of her fiery locks, she squared her shoulders and straightened her back.
With jaw set, she gave Hicks a look that obviously sent panic through the little man.
Her g
olden eyes glittered ominously as she defied the preacher’s epithets.
Mac hid a proud grin when he saw the preacher hesitate
for a moment and
begin taking halting steps backwards as Cassie held him capti
ve by nothing more than the shee
r power of her gaze.
Empowered by his retreat, Cassie took one deliberate step after another, her eyes never leaving his.
She’d had just about all she could take from this man and his ignorance.
If it was an evil witch he wanted, she was in the mood to give him one.
Without uttering a word, Mac stepped up behind her and took hold of her hand.
Still not speaking, he le
d her away.
He’d never been more proud of her than he was at that moment.
“That was real smart.
Nothing like giving the evil eye
to someone who already believes you’re in league with the devil,” Cassie chastised herself.
“If I ever had a chance of convincing Samuel Hicks that he’s wrong about us, I just blew it big time.”
“Forget it.
Hicks isn’t the kind of guy who admits when he’s wrong, no matter how strong the evidence.
So maybe scaring the pa
nts off him wasn’t a great idea,
but watching him squirm sure made me feel better.
How about you?”
“Yeah,” Cassie grinned sheepishly, “that was the most f
un I’ve had in a very long time. Well, the second most …
”
she corrected herself, smiling fondly at Mac.
They were back at their favorite bench far out on the fishing pier.
Cassie had spent the past five minutes gu
lping huge breaths of fresh air
as if she could not get enough of it.
Even the exhilaration of facing one of her enemies down hadn’t been enough to erase the ugly memories of what she had just been through.
“Wh
at did Whit tell you in there?”
Cassie asked.
It nearly broke his heart to see her brave look slip away as her thoughts returned to their recent experience.
“They were asking the questions, not answering them.
All I know for certain is that there
was
a
another murder last night, b
ut who it was, I haven’t a clue.”
“They wouldn’t tell me either, but when they left me in that little room, they forgot to close the door for a few minutes and I heard
... I heard
...”
She grasped her lower lip between her teeth, trying des
perately to hold back the tears, b
ut in spite of her efforts, tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks.
“It was the worst, the absolute worst thing I have ever heard.”
Mac’s first reaction as a man was to wrap Cas
sie in his arms and comfort her, b
ut that was not how you operated when you were working a story.
He had learned long ago to be patient, to let his subject tell the story in his own way, in his own time.
Some people needed to be prodded, but not Cassie.
Cassie would tell him everything because she trusted him.
He had never wanted the responsibil
i
ty or commitment being trusted required.
Was he ready for this?
He fought the urge to run from these new emotions as far and as fast he could go.
The trust in her eyes was shattering.
The ache in his heart terrified him.
It was at that instant that the most startling revelation of his life hit him.
He had fallen head over hee
ls in love with this beautiful woman.
“Cassie …
” he had to stop and clear his throat.
“They’ve arrested Mom again.”
“What?”
“And this time they’ve arrested Mary Beth, Norma and Edith.
The only reason they didn’t hold me was because you’d been with me all night.
You were my alibi.”
Her sad little smile nearly broke his heart.
“What about Shelly?”
“I don’t know
,
hopefuly
being at home with her husband and son saved her from being accused too.”
Cassie shuddered.
He could tell by looking into her eyes that she had left him for a moment and was reliving that awful scene in the sheriff’s office.
She started to speak,
paused,
then
spoke in a voice so tight with emotion that Mac had to strain to hear her.
“It
...
it happened again.
And it was another preacher.”
Suddenly Mac was in the iron grip of his professional instincts.
His heart did a rapid tattoo in his chest as he realized that the story had suddenly leaped into headline
proportions.
He couldn’t believe his luck at being smack
dab in the middle of the action.
She sat on the bench facing him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Guilt stabbed Mac a vicious blow as he realized that, if only for a split second, he had put Cassie in an all too familiar category - just another source.
“It was Luke Osborne, pastor of the First Untied Baptist Church.
He
...
he had two little boys, Mac, and his wife is pregnant.”
Fresh tears welled up, spilling over to join the torrent that had flowed before.
“Was it like the last?”
Mac felt like a real creep pushing Cassie for more facts, but his journalist’s instincts would not be denied.