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  “Then let’s take a look at his car. If we don’t find them, we can tell the police they are missing for sure.”

  “Which means his murder is probably connected to something he was working on.”

  Jameson closed the space between them. “Yes. Do you know what story he was writing?”

  “No, he always kept things secret until his story came out. The last story published was that series on corruption at nursing homes run by the Bender Corporation. The last article was a few days ago.”

  “Let’s go check his car, then call Detective Harrison.”

  “Yeah, I need to get home and talk to Mom before someone else tells her.” But first she had to walk past that stain in the carpet.

  She started forward but couldn’t move. When Jameson turned back to her, her gaze shifted toward the area where Scott had been lying when they had found him Friday night. “I—I can’t…”

  Jameson held out his hand for her.

  A fine sheen of perspiration covered her face. She rubbed her damp palms against her jeans, then lifted one toward him. It quavered between them.

  His firm clasp surrounded her fingers. “You won’t have to come back here again, Cassie, if you don’t want to.”

  His calm voice soothed her raw nerves, but still her legs wouldn’t obey the command from her brain to walk.

  I can do this.

  Then suddenly Psalm 23 flowed through her mind, prodding her forward. When she got to the place where the red stain was, she said out loud, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

  A few seconds later a chilly breeze whipped her long hair around her face. While Jameson locked the door, she gripped the wooden railing and relished the scent of fall in the fresh air.

  Her heartbeat returned to normal as she repeated the last two verses of the Psalm. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Anything was possible with Jesus by her side, even coping with her brother’s murder.

  “Are you okay?” Jameson positioned himself on the first step.

  When she looked toward him, they were eye to eye, compassion darkening his gaze. Eleven months ago he’d buried his wife. He knew exactly what she was going through. In that moment a connection sprung up between them that went beyond friendship. He felt it, too, she could tell.

  He glanced away, scanning the driveway. “Where’s Scott’s car?”

  Cassie gestured toward the garage. “In there. He paid a little extra to park his prize in there.”

  “Didn’t you say he drove a Mustang?” Jameson headed down the stairs.

  His speaking of Scott in the past tense caused her to stumble on the last step. She grabbed the railing and steadied herself. She gripped the wood for a few seconds, then pushed away from the stairs while desperately preparing herself to see something Scott had loved.

  “Yes, he had to restore it. He’d been working on it for years and finally finished it a few months ago.” Cassie led the way to the side entrance into the garage.

  “I remember him saying something about it.”

  Sitting at the far end was the red Mustang. The light streaming through the set of windows in the door reflected the high-gloss polish of the metal and chrome. Memories overwhelmed her—of Scott working on the car, of him searching the junkyards for just the right part.

  Jameson whistled. “She’s a beauty. What are you going to do with her?”

  The question took her by surprise. “I don’t know. I can’t see anyone else driving the Mustang.”

  Jameson tried the car door. “It’s locked.”

  “Scott kept a key hidden in here in case he ever lost his other one.” Cassie examined the paneling along the back wall and found what she was looking for. She pried a board up and retrieved the second set.

  After she tossed Jameson the key, he used it to unlock the car. He stuck his head inside and felt under the front seat. “There’s nothing in here. I’ll check the trunk, too.” A minute later he announced, “They aren’t in here, either.”

  Cassie sagged against the front bumper, her hand splayed over the shiny red hood. “Then the laptop and recorder were stolen.”

  “I’ll call the police and let them know, then we’d better head back to Magnolia Falls.”

  An hour later as Jameson pulled up to her house, Cassie hadn’t thought anything could be worse than having to check out Scott’s apartment. But she was wrong. She still had to tell her mother about her son being murdered. Cassie didn’t even know where to begin.

  While Jameson climbed from his vehicle, she rested her hand on the handle, watching him come round the front and to her side. Her body was frozen in place. She kept thinking about her mother’s poor health and what the news would do to her. She was the only close family her mom had left.

  I am with you always to the very end of the age. The verse came unbidden into her mind and comforted her.

  Lord, please help me so that I can do this. She yanked on the handle and pushed the door open.

  Jameson assisted her from the car and placed his hand at the small of her back as they walked to the porch. Before Cassie had a chance to unlock the front door, it swung open and revealed her neighbor’s worried face.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Mrs. McVay said. “The phone has been ringing nonstop. I finally took it off the hook, but your mom doesn’t know that.”

  “Who’s been calling?”

  “Mostly the press. They want a statement about your brother’s murder.”

  Cassie gasped. “I didn’t think about that. What did you tell them?”

  “Nothing. I hung up, which I’m sure made them call all the more. Thankfully Victoria was taking a nap.”

  “Is she still asleep?”

  The woman shook her head. “I fixed her some tea. She’s out on the back porch drinking it.”

  Cassie hugged her neighbor. “Thanks for everything. I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. I’d do anything for you and your mom.” Mrs. McVay waved goodbye and hurried toward her house.

  Cassie walked through the living room and pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen. “A couple of ladies from the church brought over some food right before I left for Savannah.” She glanced back at Jameson, who was right behind her, so close she could smell his light scent. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

  “I would hate to intrude—”

  “Nonsense, Jameson. Cassie is right. You should stay for dinner. You’ve been such a big help to us.”

  Cassie whirled around to find her mother standing at the counter with several casserole dishes in front of her. “Mom! I thought you were out on the porch. Resting.”

  “I’ve had my fill of resting, sleeping, doing nothing. I need to stay busy. I’m fixing us something to eat. What would y’all like to have?” Her mother lifted the first lid. “We can have tuna casserole or—” she checked the next dish “—or chicken and rice with broccoli. Which will it be?”

  Cassie slid a look toward Jameson next to her. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

  “I tell you what, Mrs. Winters. Let me throw something together while you and Cassie talk out on the porch.”

  “But I—”

  “Mom, come on. We haven’t had much time today—”

  Her mother frowned. “I know when I’m being managed. What aren’t you telling me, young lady?”

  “I talked with a Savannah detective this morning.”

  “And he told you Scott was murdered.”

  Cassie’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  “I knew something—” her mother patted her chest over her heart “—was wrong in here. I called Mrs. Alexander after you and Jameson left this afternoon. She told me. Quit trying to protect me. I’m stronger than you think. If you want to talk, I’ll be out on the porch.” She grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open.

&nb
sp; Stunned, Cassie stared at the spot where her mom had been standing only a few seconds before.

  Jameson turned the oven on. “Now that Scott’s body is going to be released, you probably should talk to her about funeral arrangements. She needs to be a part of that.”

  “Yes, and I need to call our pastor to see when the church is available.” Cassie strode to the wall phone and punched in some numbers.

  Jameson listened to her make arrangements for her pastor to come over for dinner. That was his cue to leave. Talk of a funeral stirred memories he wanted to forget of his wife’s. Liz’s parents had made it clear throughout her funeral what they thought of him. The small, intimate service had lasted an eternity.

  As Cassie hung up the phone, Jameson stuck a casserole dish into the oven. “This should be ready to eat in about forty minutes. I’ll get everything else laid out for dinner, then leave.”

  “Leave? Why?”

  “Because your meeting with your pastor is a family affair. I don’t belong.” The last time he had been in a church was his wife’s funeral, and before that it had been years. He’d walked away from the Lord when He had abandoned him and Liz.

  “I’ll call you about the funeral. I hope you’ll be a pallbearer. You meant a lot to my brother.”

  “Sure. Just let me know what I can do.”

  “I’ll call you later about the arrangements, and thanks again for going with me to Scott’s apartment. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  “Under the circumstances, you shouldn’t go there alone.”

  “You don’t think we’re in danger, do you?”

  Jameson leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. Probably not if the killer got what he wanted.”

  “He has the laptop and the police said Scott didn’t have the tape recorder on him. What else…” Cassie’s eyes widened as the realization hit her.

  Jameson straightened. “What is it?”

  “We didn’t find Scott’s notepad. He used it whenever someone didn’t want to be recorded.”

  FIVE

  “T hank you, Jameson, for driving us home this afternoon. I’m so looking forward to spending some time alone with my Bible.” Victoria Winters gathered her purse from the floor of the car and set it in her lap.

  Jameson threw her a smile as he pulled into the driveway. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Cassie, dear, you don’t think anyone was upset that I didn’t invite them back to the house after the reception at the church?” Mrs. Winters glanced at her daughter in the back seat.

  “No, Mom. I’m sure they understood.”

  “It’s just that we’ve had so much company these past few days.”

  In the rearview mirror Jameson saw the tired lines around Cassie’s eyes, and the urge to comfort her took him by surprise. He’d wanted to do that a lot lately, and he had no business becoming any more involved in Cassie’s life than he already was.

  He switched off his engine. “I’ll help you carry the food inside, then I need to be on my way.”

  “I didn’t mean you, Jameson. Stay and keep Cassie company. After fixing the dinner Sunday night, then leaving, the least you can do is let us return the favor. Stay and eat with us.” Mrs. Winters gestured toward the back seat, which was filled with dishes that various members of the congregation had brought to the reception. “We certainly have more food than we could possibly eat in the next few weeks.”

  He opened his door. “As much as I would love to, I have a class to prepare for.”

  “Maybe some other time, then.” Cassie’s mother climbed from the car and came around to help with the food.

  Cassie took the plastic container with a chocolate cake from Jameson. “This is going to ruin my diet. All Scott ever talked about was how great Mrs. Alexander’s chocolate cakes were.”

  “I’ll take it off your hands if you want.” Jameson crossed the grass to the porch.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you gaining any weight. I’ll keep it.”

  Jameson liked hearing Cassie’s chuckle. The past few days there had been little of that. He’d seen the worry in her eyes. Scott’s notebook never turned up. The police didn’t have it, and after a trip back to her brother’s apartment, he hadn’t found it there, either. Which meant the killer had it. If only he had answered the phone that night instead of leaving town, then maybe he would know what Scott had been working on.

  Could he have prevented him from being murdered? That question had haunted him for the past few days.

  He held Cassie’s cake while she unlocked the front door and pushed it open. He entered last and nearly bumped into her when she came to an abrupt halt inside the living room. She tilted her head to the side and stared at the coffee table, where some magazines were strewn across its surface. Then with a slight shake of her head, she continued on into the kitchen.

  After placing the cake on the counter, Cassie scanned the room. Her hairs on her nape tingled. She waited until her mother left, then said to Jameson, “Something’s not right.”

  He set his dishes on the top refrigerator shelf, then turned toward her. “What do you mean?”

  She pointed toward the living room. “Those magazines weren’t like that when we left the house and—” she walked to the desk near the wall phone “—this chair was pushed all the way in. It wasn’t sticking out like this.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe your mother moved it.”

  Sure? No, but still…She massaged her fingertips into her temples, trying to think back to earlier that day right before they had left for Scott’s funeral. “It doesn’t feel right.” She pulled the desk drawer out and studied its contents. “I think someone has gone through this. The stacks are wrong. I paid this bill. It should be in that pile.” She spun around on her heel, her arms stiff at her sides. “Someone’s been in here, searching the house while we were gone. I’m positive.”

  “Then let’s call the police.” He reached for the phone.

  She held up her hand, saying, “Wait,” then she checked the back door. “It’s locked. So how did the person get in here?”

  “A key? Do you leave one outside for emergencies?”

  Her grasp still on the handle, she flattened herself back against the door. “No, but…” Something nagged at her mind. What? If she wasn’t so tired and emotionally exhausted, she’d be able to think clearly.

  Jameson closed the distance between them. “Did Scott have a key to this house?”

  “Yes! He kept it on his key ring.”

  “Where’s the envelope of his belongings the police gave you when they released the body?”

  “I put it away. I couldn’t open it.”

  “Go get it. Let’s check to see if his keys are there.”

  Cassie hurried to her bedroom, where she had stashed the manila envelope. After retrieving it, she poked her head into her mother’s room to see if she was all right. She lay sleeping on top of her covers, her Bible open beside her.

  Back in the kitchen Cassie ripped the package open and dumped its contents on the table. Scott’s worn brown billfold, class ring and MP3 player tumbled across the smooth oak surface.

  “No keys.” Jameson picked up the wallet and opened it, withdrawing a business card stuck where the bills were kept. “In and Out Mart on Peach Street, here in Magnolia Falls.”

  “I know the place. It’s been around forever. Family owned.”

  “Yeah, I’ve stopped there a couple of times. It’s on the other side of town on the way to Savannah.”

  “Maybe Scott stopped there the last time he came to town.”

  Jameson flipped the card over. “There’s a phone number on the back.”

  Cassie snatched up the receiver. “Let’s try it. I bet Scott grabbed the card to write it down.” She placed a call to the number.

  “Brookside Psychiatric Hospital and Clinic. How may I direct your call?”

  Psychiatric hospital? Was Scott investigating a story or was he havi
ng a relapse? The police still didn’t know if Scott had bought the whiskey or if the killer had.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Cassie hurriedly said, “where are you located?”

  After the receptionist gave Cassie an address in Savannah, she thanked the woman and hung up, a headache beginning behind her eyes. “I don’t understand. Why would Scott be interested in a psychiatric hospital if he was doing something on the basketball team?”

  “Maybe he wasn’t. Did he ever talk much about the skeleton found on campus a few months back?”

  “He was curious like everyone else, but…” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Do you think he had a lead on who it was or what happened to the woman?”

  “That would be the kind of case that would interest an investigative reporter who went to Magnolia College.” Jameson walked back to the table and tossed the wallet on it. “If I were still a reporter, I’d be interested.”

  Cassie slid the billfold toward her and opened it, desperate to find something in it that would lead to the murderer. “Maybe there’s something else in here.”

  “I’m sure the police already checked all this out before giving it back.”

  Removing all the items in his wallet, she spread them across the table. “Well, we can certainly rule out robbery. He had nearly a hundred dollars in here and not much else.” She eyed his driver’s license with his picture on it. The pounding in her head intensified as she stared into Scott’s solemn gaze.

  “He didn’t have a credit card?”

  “No. But here’s his insurance card. I know the police haven’t completely ruled out robbery, but a robber would have at least taken the money.”

  “I know the detective in charge of the case with the skeleton on campus. Let me call him and have him come over so you can report the break-in.”

  “I feel kind of silly. I don’t think anything was taken and there’s nothing obvious that points to someone breaking into the house.”

  “But your brother’s keys are missing with a key to this house on them. That means something.”

  “Yeah, it means I’m going to have the locks changed.”