Fear Familiar Bundle (51 page)

"I told you, there's nothing to be jealous of." Ray's tone was softer. "The past is over and done. Let the ghosts rest."

Cassandra barely stopped the shudder that came with his words. "My friend just said you and this Sarah were very thick. How come you stopped seeing her?"

Ray's hand gripped the doorknob and held it. Cassandra was caught between his solid body and the door. Looking around the bar, she knew no one there would come to her assistance.

"She was the jealous type, too," he said. "It annoyed me. I guess I ought to warn you that it's not a good policy to annoy me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered sincerely. At last the fear had arrived, in van loads. It tingled the skin at the small of her back. Any little thing could push him over the edge.

"Everybody's allowed one mistake." He pulled the door open and ushered her into the night. On the steps, he took a deep breath. "Hey, I didn't mean to sound so tough. It's just that Sarah is hard for me to talk about. Where's your car?"

Cassandra balked. "I'm a little low on gas."

"We'll go by a station and fill it up," he said. "My, uh, clutch is acting up. I don't want to climb around on any of these mountain roads."

"Let's take your car," Cassandra persisted.

"Hey, Ellen." He gripped her shoulder. "What's wrong with you? I'll be glad to put some gas in your car. Mine's dangerous. You wouldn't want to be rushing around these mountain curves when the clutch gave, now would you? I hate to think what a wreck could do to that beautiful face." He brushed his fingers gently over her cheek. "You have the most beautiful skin."

Looking into his eyes, Cassandra couldn't answer. The words lumped together in her throat. "I, uh, thought…"

"Just leave the thinking to me, sweetheart. That will make your life easier and mine a whole lot more pleasant." His fingers tightened on her arm. "You're a tiny thing, aren't you? Little but fiesty. I like that. Keeps life interesting."

"My car's right this way," she said. She had no choice. Either she could blow the entire plan now, or she could take him to her car. Adam would have to scramble to keep up with her, but she could drive slowly.

"Nice car," he said approvingly. "I love convertibles." He plopped into the driver's seat and held out his hand. "Keys?"

"I'd rather drive." Cassandra balked. She clutched the keys in her hand. "I've never let anyone drive my car."

"Just for a few curves," Ray said. He gripped the steering wheel with his hands. "She's a beauty."

"I think…"

Ray reached over the side of the car and pulled her over the door and into his arms. The keys fell on the console and slid down by his foot. Laughing, he held her tightly.

"I told you," Ray said as he maneuvered her into the passenger seat, "let me do the thinking tonight. Take a breather, Ellen, baby. Ray Elsworth is in the driver's seat, so sit down and enjoy the ride. I'm going to show you the Smoky Mountains." In a spray of gravel, they tore around the parking lot.

As the car lights swung over the parked cars, Cassandra caught a fleeting image of Adam hunkered down by the fender of one. His eyes were wide with alarm.

Ray was intent on getting the feel of the car and didn't notice. As they pulled onto the asphalt, Cassandra caught one final glimpse of Adam running toward his car. He'd never be able to catch up. Never. She was on her own.

A
DAM WATCHED
Cassandra speed out of sight, and he knew he'd failed her. By the time he got back to his vehicle, they'd be long gone. He blocked out the panic and concentrated. They'd taken a right on the highway, and he'd watched their taillights disappear as they'd sped around the first curve.

Adam's long strides put him at his car, and he jumped in and roared onto the highway in hot pursuit. He took the first curve with squealing tires and not a click of hesitation. If there was any way possible, he intended to catch up with the little red convertible.

He'd known Cassandra was at risk with their plan to capture Ray and question him. The whole scheme had been dangerous. Only Cassandra's determination had convinced him to try it at all. That and the fear that if the killer weren't captured, Cassandra would forever hold herself responsible.

He came to the first intersection, and gut instinct told him to go straight through. The road led up the mountain. That was the killer's modus operandi— up to the view and then the murder.

The car slewed to the edge of the road, and Adam had a harrowing view of a cliff that seemed to fall for an eternity. A thousand feet below him three tiny lights winked through the trees. He swung the wheel hard to the left and climbed back onto the asphalt.

Though he strained to see in the darkness ahead, there was no sign of any taillights. Eagle's Roost. That was the place the dream killer always mentioned. Cassandra, who knew the mountains like the back of her hand, had never heard of such a place. Where could it be?

As he drove, he turned over every possibility in his mind. Where would Ray take her?

The road ahead of him remained a tunnel of darkness. No matter how hard he wished, he didn't see the telltale red glow of her car lights. He came to another intersection, and his instinct wavered. Where had they gone?

With a sharp movement that almost put the car into a slide, he turned right. It was pointless to drive all the way to Sevierville to argue with Sheriff Beaker. He would go to Running Stream. If anyone knew where Eagle's Roost was, it would be her.

He drove the car with abandon as he pressed on through the night to the Indian woman's home.

When he pulled into the yard, he hit the steering wheel with frustration. The house was completely black. He got out, deciding to knock anyway. Without Running Stream, he didn't know what to do.

"Hello, Adam."

The soft, low voice startled him as he put one foot on the step. Running Stream spoke from the darkness.

"Cassandra might be in terrible trouble," he said, trying to keep from shouting. "She's with the man who may be the killer."

Running Stream creaked forward in her chair. "I was sitting here, waiting for Bounder to come home. I'm afraid for my son, and for Cassandra. I've been listening to the hoot of an owl, the harbinger of death."

Her words chilled Adam. "No word from Bounder yet?"

"None. This is going to be a long and painful night for both of us."

"Running Stream, have you ever heard of a place called Eagle's Roost?" Adam blocked out the image of Cassandra, on the side of the mountain, with Ray's strong hands around her throat. He couldn't afford to lose hope now. Hope was the only thing he had— hope and his faith in one petite little woman with an unconquerable spirit.

"It isn't in the park." Running Stream motioned Adam to an old rocker on the porch. "No, Adam, I don't know such a place. The name sounds like it belongs here in the mountains, but I haven't heard it."

"Could it be a local nickname for a place? Maybe an Indian name."

"I would know it if it was an Indian name. It isn't."

Adam rubbed his forehead with one hand. This wasn't good enough. As he sat on the porch wasting time, Cassandra could be fighting for her life. "I have to go." He stood up and went to Running Stream's side. He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "Come and help me search for Cassandra."

"No." Running Stream looked up at him. "I've sat here for the past four hours, watching the light fade from the sky. I have a bad feeling, Adam Raleigh. I'll wait here for the bad news to come."

"I never would have thought that you'd retire to your porch like an old woman." Adam knew his words were harsh, but he had to do something to shake Running Stream out of her depression. She was one of the strongest women he'd ever seen. He could not allow her to sink deeper and deeper into the pit of self-pity. "I thought Cassandra's friends were made of stouter stuff. I was mistaken, and I'm afraid she was, too."

The hint of a smile touched Running Stream's eyes. "You're a very smart man."

"I try hard," he said. It hadn't taken much to shock Running Stream. She was a strong woman, an able friend. "Want to go to the fair with me? I have to find out some information about Ray, the man who has Cassandra."

Running Stream stood. For the first time, Adam noticed she was dressed in traditional Indian attire. The dress was beautiful, with a starburst pattern of beadwork.

"I dressed to meet the moment of knowing," she explained, "and then I sat down and waited for that moment to come to me. You've reminded me that it has to be sought, and fought for." She pressed her hand to his chest. "Like friendship. Let's go."

"What about Bounder?"

"Sitting here will not make him come home. I've searched everywhere I know to look. If we find Cassandra, we may find him."

"If they're together, then whoever has them had better beware," Adam said with grim determination. "They'd better look out for us."

T
HE HIGHWAY SPUN
under the wheels like a wide strand of licorice. They'd taken several turns off the main road and were climbing at a steady pace. To her right, Cassandra could hear the rush of one of the clear mountain streams. The water pounded over the boulders, sounding a delightful challenge to daring rafters. She'd never harbored even the slightest desire to raft one of the rough passages, but at the moment, she would have given her right arm for a rubber raft and a ten-minute head start on Ray.

"Women claim that I don't treat them good." He reached across the car seat and touched her hair. "I've never really had a woman like you, though. You're like something out of a fairy tale. So pretty and tiny. So different."

"Thank you, Ray. I enjoy your company," she said, praying that she could keep him talking. So far, he'd been content to drive along the deserted roads, recounting stories from his childhood and anecdotes about the fair.

"You know…" He cut her a long look that put them off the edge of the road. For a second he concentrated on his driving, then he turned to look at her again. "Why do I get the feeling that you're saying these things to make me talk?"

"I don't know." She shrugged and tried to look perplexed.
Dear God, don't let him think I'm playing him.
She looked down at her lap.

The car cornered a tight curve, and for a few seconds, Cassandra had a respite.

"Have you ever thought about settling down?" She had to start a normal conversation. If she'd been without fear at the lounge, she made up for it now. She felt as if her limbs had become so fragile they might snap if she moved them.

Ray laughed, and it was bitter. "I've thought about it. I used to think that the only thing I wanted was a wife and three children. The American dream. My own place and my own family."

"Why haven't you?"

"Oh, I did once. Trouble was, my wife didn't take it all that seriously. She liked being married when I brought the paycheck home, and when I was at work, she liked being single."

Cassandra felt her fear grow. He was angry. So angry at women.

"You ever settled down?" he asked.

"No. I guess I haven't thought that much about it."

"Something wrong with you?" He gave her a long look.

"I don't think so." She forced herself to smile at him. "Maybe I haven't met the right man, yet."

"You're a little pushy, but I told you before, I like my women with spunk." He took another right turn.

Cassandra knew she wasn't far from her home, but under the present conditions, it might as well have been a million miles away. She thought of the cabin, of Adam and the strange black cat that had won her heart. Would she ever see them again?

To her surprise, Ray took the next left. They were headed down the mountain again.

"I really like this car," he said. "It handles real nice."

"Where are some of your favorite scenic overlooks?" she asked. "I mean, are there any that just give you a tingly feeling?"

He laughed. "You're asking a man who makes his living with carnival rides? Looking down the side of a mountain isn't all that thrilling."

"The view, though…" She didn't finish. Ray pulled the car over to the side of the road.

"Why are you riding around with me tonight?"

The question effectively paralyzed Cassandra's brain. She stumbled over a few words, but nothing would come out correctly.

"Because I wanted to talk with you," she said at last.

"If you've got something to ask, lady, just ask it. I get the feeling you're playing with me, and I don't like it." He put his arm across the back of her seat. "Now spit it out."

"Ray, I don't know what you mean." She pushed her back against the car door, but it wasn't far enough away. He only leaned forward.

"You're not the type to chase men, especially not men like me. You've been sitting over in your corner asking questions like some doctor for the insane. You poked around about the women I've dated, and now you're poking around all over. What do you want?" He grabbed her shoulder, and his fingers bit into her flesh.

"I'm a friend of Sarah's," she said in desperation. She was frightened, badly frightened. Not a single car had passed them in more than twenty minutes, and even if she could somehow get away from him and run, he'd be able to catch her.

Her words stopped him short. To her horror, he smiled. "Sarah never told me about you. And she told me everything."

"We weren't close friends, but I knew her. I liked her."

"If you liked her so much, what are you doing riding out in the night with me?"

"I had to find something out." Cassandra knew she was digging deeper and deeper in, but she couldn't stop herself.

"What was that?"

"You weren't at her funeral. You claimed to care for her."

He nodded, but his face never turned away from hers. "Sarah's family wouldn't have been too happy to see me, you can count on that."

"Why not? If you cared for her, and she believed you did, why would they object? What were you looking for in her house?"

"Her folks weren't the kind to take to the idea of a carnie dating their daughter. She talked a lot about her family. Sarah had made her own life, but she could never quite get away from them. She was as tied to this place and them as if they'd sewn her feet to the ground."