Don't Look Back. Margaret Daley

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