He thought she needed to be held worse than anyone he'd ever known. But he didn't touch her. Because she would not have welcomed the touch, and because he shied away from offering it.
Finally, her voice drained, Cassie said, "A few years ago, a cop friend of mine gave me a quotation from Nietzsche. He told me to put it where I could see it every day, to never forget. 'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.
And when you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.' " She lifted her head and looked at him with exhausted eyes. "I don't know how many more times I can do it and survive, Ben. Every time I've looked into that abyss, a piece of me stayed there."
"You could never become a monster."
"I could lose myself in one. What would be the difference?"
He leaned toward her, elbows on his knees, getting closer without actually touching her. "Cassie, you're the only one who can decide if the risks are worth taking. The risk of this madman finding out who you are before we find him. The risk of getting too deep in his head. The risk of losing something of yourself in the blackness of his soul. Only you can really know what it might cost you. And only you can decide if the price is too high."
She gazed at him almost curiously. "You pointed out one of the risks yourself. That no matter how careful I am, how skilled, the killer is more than likely to find out who I am in this small town of yours. Even so, you believe I should try to help you catch him."
Ben was silent for a moment, then said, "If you're leaving Ryan's Bluff, the discussion is over. I understand self-preservation; anyone would. I'll respect that decision, Cassie. But if you're staying here, then you have to help us catch him. Because as long as you're here, you're a potential threat to him. You can see inside his head. Sooner or later he'll find out you can do that. And he'll come after you."
"So I've convinced you, huh? That psychic ability is real?"
"Let's just say… I'm convinced you're real. I don't pretend to understand it, but I do believe you possess an extraordinary skill. And right now I need that skill to help me catch a monster. Before he kills anybody else in my town."
Cassie sighed. "All right." More than anything else, she sounded defeated. "What do you want me to do?"
Ben hesitated, almost wishing he had not been so persuasive. "After a lot of arguing, I finally got Matt to agree that you should go to the crime scene, see if you pick up anything." He paused, then added roughly, "But right now I think you should sleep about twelve hours. Tomorrow is soon enough."
A little laugh escaped Cassie. "Very nice of you to be concerned, but not very practical or wise. I'd say there's no time to waste. For him to kill again so soon is a very bad sign of worse things to come."
"Be that as it may, you're exhausted. If you push yourself too hard – "
"You don't have to worry. I won't collapse on you. I'm stronger than you think." She got to her feet.
Ben rose as well. "Cassie, a few more hours won't make any difference. She lived alone, and Matt has a couple of his officers standing guard, so the scene won't be disturbed. And it's not going to be a pleasant thing to see, whether you pick up anything or not. You should rest, recover some of your strength first. I'll take you there tomorrow – " He broke off when she lifted a hand to brush back her hair and he saw the bandage. "What the hell happened?"
She looked at her hand as if it belonged to a stranger, and answered absently, "I broke a glass."
"Have you seen a doctor?"
"It wasn't a deep cut." She was obviously puzzled as her gaze returned to his face. "Her house. That's where you found her?"
"Yes. In the kitchen. Isn't that what you saw?"
Tension gathering in her voice, Cassie said, "The kitchen. No, that isn't right."
"He definitely killed her there, Cassie. There was blood everywhere, and the M.E. says that's where she died."
Cassie closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them and looked at him almost beseechingly. "Who died, Ben? Who was she?"
"Why – Ivy Jameson. Isn't that who – " Ben watched her sit down abruptly as though the strength had left her legs. He drew a deep breath. "You mean there's someone else?"
"Yes. There's someone else."
Ben called Matt from the Jeep once they were on their way to town, and the sheriff got there before them. He came out onto the sidewalk so quickly that Ben had barely gotten his door open. It was dark by then, but the streetlights made the sidewalk nearly as bright as day.
"Don't go in there," Matt said.
He hadn't really doubted Cassie this time, but Ben nonetheless felt a shock, and with it pangs of pain and regret. "Is she,.?"
Matt nodded. "The doc will have to tell us when, but I'm guessing she was killed while we were at Ivy's place. I'm sorry, Ben."
Ben gazed blindly toward the open front door of Jill Kirkwood's store for a moment. "I should have told her to be careful."
"It wouldn't have mattered, you know that. I warned her when she came to tell me about somebody following Becky. And I'm sure she thought she was being careful. But even if the town had been under curfew, she wouldn't have hesitated to come into her store on a peaceful Sunday afternoon to catch up on paperwork."
"I have to see her."
The sheriff caught his arm. "No. There's no reason for you to go in there, Ben. My team will be here any minute, and this time they're damned well going to get a completely undisturbed crime scene." He paused, then added steadily, "You don't need to see her. You don't want to see her."
"How did he kill her?"
"Knife, same as the others. But either he killed her someplace else or she hadn't pissed him off as badly as Ivy had. Virtually no blood at the scene. Only one wound, as far as I could tell. Left breast."
Ben half turned toward the Jeep, where the dome light showed Cassie's huddled posture and pale face. She hadn't said much at all since they had left her place. He returned his gaze to the sheriff. "Cassie said Jill was tied with her back to something with a sharp edge."
"Yeah, she's sitting up against a corner of her desk. He probably had her wrists tied behind her at some point but, like the others, he left her untied and with her hands in her lap."
"The coin?"
"A quarter." The sheriff paused. "Mind if I ask a few questions now?"
Ben knew whom those questions would be directed to, and it wasn't himself. But before he could reply, Cassie got out of the Jeep and came around it to join them.
Quietly she said, "Ask away, Sheriff."
"Where were you today?"
"At home. Alone, until Ben arrived a little while ago."
"You're saying you have no alibi." The sheriff's voice was mechanical.
"For Christ's sake, Matt," Ben snapped, "surely you don't believe Cassie killed three women!"
The sheriff looked at him briefly, then returned his gaze to Cassie. "And where is your car, Miss Neill?"
Matter-of-factly she said, "So you're having me watched. I thought you might be. My car is here in town, Sheriff, as you obviously know. I had it towed in yesterday morning when I discovered it wouldn't start. It's at that garage one block back from Main Street."
"And you refused a loaner."
"I didn't need one. There was nowhere I wanted or needed to go in the few days the car would be here."
As alibis went, it wasn't bad.
Ben said, "She couldn't have walked that far, Matt, not if – not if Jill was killed in the last few hours."
"Yeah, I know. Besides – " Matt glanced at Ben as he broke off, and it was Cassie who finished the sentence.
"It's not likely I'd have the physical strength to drive a butcher knife in someone's chest to the hilt," she said, still matter-of-fact.