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Zack raised his brows. How s that?
Ever hear of Cassidy Cutler?
He narrowed his eyes very faintly. Why does that name sound vaguely
familiar?
Probably because you ve seen it on the best-seller lists. She s a true-crime
writer.
Right. He nodded. She s the one who did the book about the freak who was
stalking and killing members of a family in Florida. The cops couldn t figure
out why he had targeted them. They finally arrested a cousin, I think.
Did you read it? she asked.
Hell, no. I don t read stuff like that. Got enough nightmares of my own. I
just know what I saw in the papers.
She smiled wryly. Sounds like we have something in common when it comes to
our bedside reading. Be that as it may, evidently Cassidy Cutler has decided
that her next best seller will feature a certain small-town homicide detective
who has recently closed a string of cold cases.
Zack laughed. She s writing a book about Mitchell?
Bradley called me a few days ago. He was very excited. He told me that
Cassidy Cutler had arrived in town with an assistant and had started
background research.
Interesting. I wonder if Mitchell plans to tell her that the reason he was
able to close those cold cases was because he worked with a psychic?
She shuddered. I sincerely hope he never says a word about me. As far as I m
concerned, he can have all the credit.
Because the last thing you want is to have your name appear in one of Cassidy
Cutler s books?
The very last thing.
Fourteen
Bradley downed a long swallow of coffee, lowered the dainty china cup to the
saucer and glowered across the table.
What s wrong with you? he asked. Are you sick?
Good grief, no. Never felt better, in fact. Raine poured tea for herself
from the pretty yellow-and-green pot. Why do you ask?
I don t know. He searched her face, frowning. You look like you re running
a fever or something.
She stifled a smile. Must have been the shower.
The inn s small dining room was packed with the same media-heavy crowd that
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had filled up the restaurant the night before. The din of cell phones and
conversation assured privacy.
It s not the damn shower, Bradley muttered. There s something about you
this morning.
Well, I did get a good night s sleep last night, she said smoothly.
Bradley s jaw hardened. How the hell did you meet Jones?
She was seated facing the entrance to the dining room. Zack was at the front
counter, collecting a cup of coffee in a plastic cup and a muffin from the
harried-looking woman at the cash register. He saw her watching him and raised
a hand in a casual greeting. She wriggled her fingers at him and then turned
to Bradley.
I m sorry, what were you saying? she asked.
He scowled. Where did you meet Jones?
Good grief, you don t actually expect me to discuss my personal life with
you, do you?
I didn t know you had a personal life, Bradley muttered.
I do now, she said demurely.
Does Jones know what you do?
Yes. Guess what? It doesn t creep him out.
Bradley had the grace to redden. I said some stuff that night that I didn t
mean, okay?
You meant it, all right.
She watched Zack take his coffee and muffin out into the adjoining lobby.
Look, Bradley said, very earnest now, even if our personal relationship
wasn t meant to be, it doesn t follow that you and I can t still work
together. We re a team, Raine.
The urgency that was vibrating from him was starting to make her curious.
Bradley usually did the laid-back, wise-cracking, macho-detective thing very
well. For the sake of her ego, it would have been pleasant to believe that he
was wildly jealous of Zack but she was almost certain that was not the case.
There was no doubt but that he had been alarmed to find her with another man
this morning but she was sure it wasn t because he had suddenly discovered
that he wanted her, after all.
I don t know about that, she said quietly. I ve been under a lot of stress
lately because of my aunt s death.
I know, he said quickly. But work can be excellent therapy.
I need time to clear my thoughts and consider what I want to do next. Also,
something else has come up. What with one thing and another, I m just not
ready to go back to working with you. Not for a while, at any rate.
He gripped the edge of the table with both hands. Damn it, Raine, there isn t
time for you to think it over. I ve got a new cold case.
She was starting to get curious now. She had never seen him this tense, not
even when he was about to make an arrest.
She picked up the teapot and refilled her cup. What s the rush? By
definition, there s no great urgency about a cold case.
That s not how the families of the victims look at it, he said, righteous
indignation ringing in every word. Some people have died waiting for
justice.
In spite of her determination, guilt twisted inside her. I realize that.
Satisfied that he had scored a point, his expression softened. I m sorry to
put pressure on you like this. I realize your aunt s death hit you hard and
that you ve got your hands full dealing with her estate. But I m in a bind
here.
Now they were getting to the heart of the problem.
Define bind, she said.
He exhaled heavily. Here s the deal, honey
She raised her teaspoon as though it were a magic wand. Don t ever call me
honey.
The thing is, this new cold case is very important. I need your help.
What makes this particular case more important than any of the others?
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He glanced around the room a second time to make certain they were not being
overheard and then leaned forward again and lowered his voice.
Cassidy came up with this great idea for the book, he said.
She put the spoon down on the saucer. It made a nice little clatter.
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