Don't Look Back

She curled her hands around her mug of tea, her gaze drifting toward her brother, engrossed in a conversation with the two young men. The impression he was working on a story was still strong. So what did these two students have to do with it?

“When we came in, you seemed surprised to see Scott here.”

Jameson’s observation drew her attention back to the man beside her on the couch. “Yes. He stopped by the house earlier, but he didn’t say anything about coming here.”

“In the past month I’ve seen him here several times.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know he was visiting Magnolia Falls?”

“No.” Again she glanced toward Scott. What was he up to? “Is he meeting with the same people?”

“No, different ones. But I’ve found most of them are connected with the basketball team. I thought at first he might be helping out this season. Practice has started, and although he couldn’t go pro, he can still play.”

“But he doesn’t. When the accident happened, he blamed himself for the team not going any further in the NCAA tournament that year.”

“If I remember correctly, we had a good chance of winning the tournament.”

Cassie felt uncomfortable being reminded of that awful time four years ago when her brother’s life came crashing down around him.

“Granted, Scott was the star player, but as I told him then, he was only one member of the team. Winning is a team effort and so is losing.”

“I said basically the same thing to him, but it didn’t make any difference. He walked away from the game. He rarely even watches it. So why is he talking to members of the team?”

Jameson arched an eyebrow, a gleam glinting in his eyes. “A good question. A story?”

“Possibly. Is there a player who has a chance to go to the NBA?”

“I gather you don’t follow basketball, either.”

“No, just gymnastics. I only followed it when Scott played.”

Jameson tilted his head to the side and thought for a moment. “Maybe. There’s one who has a shot. Marcus Reed. He’s a junior.”

“Reed? Any relation to the Kevin Reed who was involved in Scott’s injury on the basketball court?”

“His younger brother. He has a lot more talent than Kevin did.”

“Is Marcus one of the young men he’s with?”

“No, but a reporter often interviews people around a subject.”

“Then maybe he’s doing a story on Marcus. If so, that’s a good thing.” Cassie finished the last sip of her tea.

“Why?”

“I didn’t think it was good that Scott walked away from basketball altogether. He lived and breathed it before the accident. He also harbored a lot of anger toward Kevin because of what happened. They were best friends, and now Kevin has dropped off the face of the earth.”

“I imagine Kevin had a hard time dealing with the accident, too. Sometimes when something is too painful, you have to cut yourself off totally in order to survive.”

Cassie suddenly realized they weren’t just talking about her brother and Kevin. What had been so painful in Jameson’s life? His wife’s death had occurred almost a year ago, and yet she’d sensed that deep pain even back when she had been in his class as a college student. “You can’t run forever. You have to face the problem and deal with it. It won’t go away.”

A distant look dimmed his eyes. “True.”

So intent on Jameson, she didn’t hear or see her brother approach until he cleared his throat and said, “Cassie, I didn’t know you were going to be here. I thought you were taking a class….”

Her gaze swept to Scott on the other side of the coffee table. “I am. I signed up for Jameson’s persuasive writing class.”

Her brother’s glance fell on his mentor, then back to Cassie. “You forgot to mention that.”

“And you forgot to mention you’ve been coming to Magnolia Falls on a regular basis. Working on a story?”

Scott’s expression went blank. “I’m always working on a story. Well, I’d better be going. I still have to drive back to Savannah. It’s good to see you, Jameson.” He nodded toward them, then left before Cassie could say anything else.

“I think I scared him off with my question.”

“I think you did, too.” Jameson stared at Scott as he made his way toward the door. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, I have papers to grade. May I walk you to your car?”

When he removed his wallet to pay, Cassie put her hand over his, stopping him. The touch singed her fingertips. “This is my treat. I invited you.”

He started to say something but looked into her eyes and decided not to. Sliding his wallet back into his pocket, he rose. “Thanks. Next time will be my treat.”

The idea there could be another time made her heart flutter. Then she caught sight of his wedding ring that he still wore. The glittering gold taunted her.

His gaze trapped her full attention, and all thoughts fled her mind. She wanted to get to know him beyond the nice pleasantries they had shared. In college she’d had a simple schoolgirl’s crush on her handsome professor. Now she realized it could be so much more, but it was obvious he was still very much in love with his deceased wife.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmured finally.

A few minutes later Cassie stepped outside with Jameson at her side. Aware of his every move, she crossed the street and strolled back toward the parking lot on campus where their cars were.

At her Taurus she unlocked its door, then faced him. He was only a foot away, and she could smell his fresh, clean scent in the night air. She saw him cock a grin, making him appear younger, carefree.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t want the evening to end, but his demeanor had suddenly become one of a polite stranger, as though he suddenly realized how alone they were.

“Good night. See you next week in class.”

She slipped inside her car and watched him disappear into the darkness at the other end of the parking lot. Gripping the steering wheel, she laid her head on the cold plastic and dragged air into her lungs. Why did she feel as though she were playing with fire?

Lord, he’s hurting. Please take his pain away.

As she passed the Half Joe, Cassie glanced toward its parking lot on the right side of the building. The security light shone down on her brother standing in front of a tall young man she didn’t know. Scott waved his arm and pointed toward the campus. Cassie slowed her car. A scowl on his face, the young man shook his head and stalked toward the entrance into the café. Clearly frustrated, Scott pounded his fist on the top of his vehicle.

Cassie started to make a U-turn to go back to see what was wrong with her brother, when he wrenched open his door, got into his car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading in the opposite direction.

What just happened?

Stopping at a red light, Cassie looked in her rearview mirror as though the deserted street would give her answers. They were both keeping secrets. Maybe she and her brother were more alike than she had ever thought.

At his apartment Jameson sat at the desk in his office, staring at the same paper he had been reading for the past half hour. He’d marked a few comments at the beginning, but after rereading the same paragraph several times, he realized he might as well call it quits. He wasn’t going to be able to grade papers tonight. His mind kept wandering back to this evening at the Half Joe with Cassie. Why had he accepted her invitation? He shouldn’t have.

He knew the danger in getting too close to someone like her. She was as beautiful and vivacious as he remembered her ten years before. Actually, even more so. Now she was a woman who had experienced life and hadn’t been marred by its harsh realities.

He lounged back in his chair, a vision of Cassie forming in his mind. Red shoulder-length hair and bright emerald-green eyes a man could get lost in. He scrubbed his hands down his face and shot to his feet. Restless energy surged through him. He needed to get away for a couple of days.

How could he think of Cassie in that way? He had no right to, although his wife had died nearly a year ago after being in a coma for twelve years. But if it hadn’t been for him, Liz would still be alive. He’d carry that guilt to the grave.

He strode into his bedroom across the hall and snatched up a duffel bag. After stuffing a few extra pieces of clothing into it, he zipped it up and grabbed his car keys. He’d drive up the coast, clear his head.

As he walked toward the front door, his phone rang. He paused and started toward the table to pick it up. Halfway there, he stopped and let it continue to ring. Finally his answering machine picked up the call.

“Jameson, this is Scott. After seeing you tonight at the café, I knew I needed to talk to you about this story I’m working on. Please call me as soon as you can.”

Jameson reached for the receiver and froze, his wedding ring he still wore ridiculing him. No. He couldn’t deal with Cassie’s brother right now. Scott looked so much like Cassie. He would speak to the young man when he came back tomorrow evening—after he’d closed his heart to her.

THREE

Friday night Jameson tossed his duffel bag onto his bed and glanced at his answering machine. Three messages. Sinking down onto the covers, he pushed the button to listen to the recording.

“This is Scott. I was checking to see if you were home since you weren’t at the college. I want to come by to talk to you.” The time of that call was noon.

Jameson pressed the next message left three hours ago.

“I’m on to something big. I need your advice. I may be too close to this. Call as soon as you can. I have to talk to you. If I’m not here, my calls are being forwarded to my cell so I’ll be available.”

Jameson lifted his receiver and punched in Cassie’s brother’s number. When he didn’t pick up, Jameson told him to call as soon as he could, that he would be at home. Then realizing he had another message, Jameson listened to the last one, left only a half an hour before.

“Jameson! Where are you?” Jameson heard a sound in the background, but he couldn’t tell what it was. “Call! I need to talk—” The line went dead.

Had someone interrupted Scott? The message ended so abruptly.

Concern seeped into Jameson. He replayed the message, but still couldn’t figure out what the noise was. He tried both Scott’s cell and his apartment, but again no answer. Why didn’t Scott pick up on his cell if he was waiting for him to call? Maybe Scott hung up earlier because he was angry that he wasn’t home. That could explain the sudden end to the message.

But what was that noise? Maybe Scott was pacing and knocked into something.

Unease nagged Jameson as he trudged toward the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He needed to grade those papers. He would do that while he waited for Scott to return his call. Maybe he was busy and couldn’t answer. Scott was a reporter and a grown man. He could certainly take care of himself, but there was something in his voice that…

He shook off his worry, remembering when he’d been a reporter and working a case. Sometimes he would lose track of time and become so focused on the story that nothing else mattered, not even eating.

After fixing a mug, Jameson took it into his office and settled down to work. But as he stared at the stack of essays, his mind was filled with his unsuccessful trip up the coast. Cassie’s smile still dominated his thoughts. She was a breath of fresh air in his stale life. For the past twelve years he had been going through the motions of living, but how could he have gone on with his life when Liz was in a coma because of him?

The phone blared, jerking Jameson out of his reverie. He grabbed it on the second ring, expecting it to be Scott. So when he heard Cassie, surprise—and something he didn’t want to acknowledge—flowed through him.

“Jameson, I’m sorry to bother you, but I wasn’t sure what to do. Scott called over three hours ago and said he was coming to Magnolia Falls. He said he needed to talk to us and then see you. We haven’t seen him. Is he there?”

“No, I haven’t talked to him, but he did leave me several messages.”

“I know I shouldn’t be worried, but…” There was a long pause, then in a low voice Cassie said, “Scott didn’t sound right. Something’s wrong.”

He didn’t want to mention it, but he had to. “Have you checked with the highway patrol?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll call them,” she whispered, her distress conveyed in her hushed tone.

Remembering the urgency in Scott’s voice in the last message prompted Jameson to say, “I’ll come over. That way if he shows up I’ll be there, and we can talk then.”

“Thanks.”

Her gratefulness pushed to the background all his doubts about the wisdom of seeing her again. In his gut he knew something was wrong. He’d gotten this feeling several times when he had been a reporter and each time it had been dead-on. The last message from Scott had sounded almost frantic—not like the young man he knew. What kind of story was he working on? Why did Scott need to talk to him?

Cassie looked toward her mother sitting at the kitchen table, worry lining her face. “Jameson is coming over.” She picked up the phone again and called the highway patrol. As she asked if there were any accidents on the road between Savannah and Magnolia Falls, her mother’s expression darkened.

“Were there any?” Victoria Winters asked when Cassie replaced the receiver in its cradle.

“No.”

“Try Scott again.”

“I’ve already called and left four messages.”

Her mother rose and leaned into the table with her fists on its wooden top. “Try.”

Cassie called but didn’t bother to leave another message. Something was wrong. They both knew it but neither wanted to say it out loud. Not showing up when he’d said he would was something he had done back when he had been drinking heavily.

She could remember one time in particular a couple of years ago when her mother had insisted she go over to Scott’s apartment after he hadn’t shown up for a job interview with a friend of the family. She had found him passed out on the floor, completely unresponsive. The doctor had later said that if she hadn’t gotten him medical help when she had, he would have died.

“Something else probably came up. The life of a reporter can be unpredictable,” Cassie offered.

Her mom shook her head. “No. No, that isn’t it. He made it a point to make sure we would be here so he could talk to us. Something else has happened, Cassie. I know it in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart. “I don’t get this feeling often, but when I do, there is always something wrong.”

Cassie wanted to argue the point with her but couldn’t find the words. Her mother was right. The few times she had insisted something was wrong, it had been. “What do you want to do? Call the police?”

Her mother’s eyes grew round, and she sank down onto the chair. “The police? If for some reason Scott has started drinking again, he would be so upset that we—”

The doorbell chimed. “That’s probably Jameson. I’ll be right back.”

On her way out of the kitchen she heard her mother mutter, “He’s such a nice young man. Maybe he can help us find Scott.”

Cassie opened the front door and found Jameson King filling her entrance with his large presence. Relief flooded her as she stared into his blue eyes. “Come in. Scott still hasn’t called or shown up, and Mom is beside herself. She’s in the kitchen.”

Jameson followed her into the room and greeted her mother with a smile. “I’m sure Scott’s all right, Mrs. Winters.”

“No, he isn’t.” Her mother swung her tear-misted gaze to Cassie. “You should go to Savannah and check on him. Please. This sitting around waiting is driving me crazy.”

“Sure, Mom, and if he comes here, call me on my cell.” Her heart wrenched seeing her mother so upset. “Why don’t you lie down and rest? I’ll call you when I get to Scott’s apartment.”

“I won’t sleep until you let me know he’s fine. In fact—” she started for the counter where her purse sat “—I’m going with you. I don’t want you going alone.”

“Mom, you’ve been sick. I’ve driven back and forth from here to Savannah so many times I could do it blindfolded.”

“Darling, I don’t think you—”

“Mrs. Winters, I’ll drive Cassie to Scott’s. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Her mother fastened her attention on Jameson. “You will?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You see, I’ll be fine.” Cassie took her mother’s arm and led her toward the living room. “So while I’m gone, promise me you’ll put your feet up in your lounger and rest, or I won’t go.”

Her mom’s mouth pinched into a frown. “I don’t like being blackmailed.”

“I wouldn’t have to resort to it if you’d follow your doctor’s orders. You did too much today.” Cassie helped settle her into the comfortable chair, then put the footrest up for her. “I’m a phone call away if you need me or if Scott finally shows up.” She pulled her cell out of her jeans pocket to emphasize the point.

Her mother waved her hand. “Go, y’all. Now.”

Five minutes later Cassie sat next to Jameson in his car as he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the highway. For a moment she let the silence lengthen while she calmed herself. Her mother’s recent bout with pneumonia worried Cassie more than Scott’s lateness.

“Thanks for going to Savannah with me,” she said, needing to take her mind off her mother’s failing health. She was in God’s hands. He would care for her. “When Mom insists on something, nothing can change her mind. I’m sure that’s where my brother got his stubbornness.”

“But not you?”

“I’m not stubborn. I’m pretty laid-back.”

“How did that happen with a brother and mother who aren’t?”

“That’s why I am. Someone has to give in or you live in angst all the time. Not good for you.”

On the highway the gray of dusk cloaked the landscape in shadows. The sun sank below the tree line, coloring the pale blue sky with orange, yellow and rose. Soon it would be dark, and Cassie was secretly glad that Jameson had volunteered to drive her to Savannah. Her vivid imagination could get the best of her.

“I can’t imagine what Scott wanted to talk to Mom and me about. He didn’t give you any indication?”

“I got the impression it concerned a story he’s working on.”

“But then why would he want to talk to us? Do you think it had something to do with those students on the basketball team that he interviewed the other day? Or maybe the skeleton found under the library sidewalk? That would be a story Scott would go after.”

He shrugged. “It could be. That’s the first question we can ask him when we find him.”

Each time Jameson said “we” her smile grew. She liked the sound of it. “I just hope we don’t pass him on the highway.”

“What kind of car does he drive? I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“A 1966 red Ford Mustang.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to spot. At least not until it gets dark.”

“We’ll be on the outskirts of Savannah by that time.” Which was probably about thirty minutes away.

As silence engulfed the car again, Cassie searched her mind for a new topic of conversation. There was so much she wanted to know about Jameson, now that she had him as a captive audience. “So, where are you from originally? Where were you a reporter?”

“New York City.”

“One of the big papers?”

He nodded. “The Times.”

She whistled. “What made you give it up?”

“It was time to move on.” His tone indicated he wasn’t going to offer more information than that.

“Why did you come to Magnolia College?”

“It has a good journalism department.”

“A lot of colleges do. How’d you hear about the school?”

Cassie couldn’t help noticing his stiff posture and tight grip on the steering wheel. “I thought I was the reporter. Are you sure you don’t want to be one?”

Realizing she sounded as though she were interrogating him, she laughed, hoping to ease his strain. “I guess my brother has rubbed off on me more than I thought.” Although she attempted to lighten the mood, she was aware of the growing awkwardness in the car. Jameson was hiding something. Did it have to do with his deceased wife? She peered at his gold wedding band, barely visible in the dim dashboard lights.

“Now it’s my turn. What made you come back to Magnolia Falls after living in Savannah for years?”

“As you saw tonight, Mom isn’t well. Both Scott and I felt she needed someone to look after her. I was the one who could move the easiest.”

“Did you mind coming back?”

She thought for a moment about the question. At first she had resisted Scott’s suggestion, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize she’d loved growing up in the small college town, and coming home would be good for her as well as her mother. “No, it was time for me to come home.”

“How does your mother feel about it?”

“She was relieved, which made me realize she was sicker than both Scott and I originally thought. Are your parents alive?”

“Both alive and well in Florida. Retired and having a ball.”

The lights of Savannah lit the dark horizon. Soon they would be at Scott’s apartment, and there was a part of Cassie that wanted this drive to last longer. She’d found out more about Jameson than she ever had before, but really it was only facts. She wanted to know so much more. But first she needed to check on her brother and put her mother’s mind at ease.

“Where does your brother live?”

She gave him Scott’s address, then the direction to his apartment. Silence fell between them again when they hit Savannah. The closer she got to her brother’s, the more the tension built inside her. She remembered the times she’d find him drunk and barely able to stand. With the Lord’s help she’d managed to get Scott to attend his first AA meeting. Thankfully he’d now been sober for more than a year and focused on his job at the paper. Scott was a pit bull when working on a story, and she was sure he’d just gotten sidetracked—that this one time her mother’s hunch was wrong.

Jameson parked out in front of the large white house that had been converted into apartments in an older section of the city. The serenity of the neighborhood appeased Cassie’s anxiety. Soon she would discover they had overreacted and have to explain their sudden appearance to her brother.

Standing on the sidewalk in front, Cassie pointed down the driveway. “Scott’s place is over the garage.” She started for the back. “He likes his privacy.” Which reminded her instantly of the man walking beside her.

She mounted the stairs on the back of the building and knocked on her brother’s door. Nothing, although the lights blazed from his windows.

“Do you have a key?”

“No. I used to with the old apartment.” There hadn’t been a need since Scott had stopped drinking.

Jameson glanced around, saw a window a few feet from the landing and stretched over the railing to peer inside. “Try the door.”

Panic bolted through her at the urgency in his words. She tried turning the knob. “It’s locked. What’s wrong?”

“He’s on the floor. A bottle of whiskey is on the coffee table nearby. Almost empty.”

“No!” Scott’s drinking again? If so, how can he be so drunk that he passed out this quickly?

Jameson straightened. “Does the manager have a key?”

“Yes.” She tried to look in the window and wasn’t tall enough to reach it. “Mrs. Alexander has an apartment on the first floor.”

“Let’s go get her.”

Cassie hurried down the stairs and ran toward the house. Inside the large foyer, she quickly crossed it and pounded on the manager’s door. A minute ticked by. Her heart beat a maddening pace. She lifted her hand to knock again when the door opened, and Mrs. Alexander greeted her with a smile that faded quickly when she stared at Cassie.

“Sugar, what’s wrong?”

“Scott’s hurt in his apartment, and I can’t get in.”