"I'd rather try now." Cassie kept her voice level. "Ineed to be in control of this, or at least as much as I can be. I need to be the one instigating the contact."
Matt waited a moment, but when Ben said nothing, agreed with a nod. "I have one of the coins with me. But…"
"But?"
"Well, Ben said he thought that eventually you'd be able to tap into this guy at will without touching something he touched. I'm just wondering if you can do that now."
Cassie glanced at Ben, then handed the mug to him, again taking care not to touch him. "Let's try."
"Have you ever done it before?" Ben asked, sounding a bit rough around the edges.
"No. Never tried to before. But since his unconscious mind seems to be reaching me all too easily, I'm curious to find out if I can."
Matt finally left the fireplace, hitching a wing chair closer to the sofa, where he'd have a clear view of Cassie. He pulled out his notebook and a pen with a muttered "Just in case," and then waited expectantly.
Ben set the mug on the coffee table but didn't move from his place beside her on the couch.
Cassie put her hands back under the blanket and closed her eyes, trying to relax, to concentrate. It was difficult with Ben so close. He virtually trapped her on the sofa, but years of practice enabled her to push away even that distracting realization.
Imagery had always helped Cassie to focus on what she was trying to do, though holding some object had tended to speed the process so that her images were swiftly replaced by those seen through the eyes of killers.
This time she conjured the image of a path through a peaceful forest and began following it. Nothing yanked at her. No dark voice whispered to her. As she walked, she looked around, interested but at ease. Whenever she came to a path leading in a different direction, she allowed her instincts to decide whether she should take it, sometimes doing so and other times walking past. The cheerful bird sounds began to fade, and the woods grew darker.
"Cassie?" Ben's voice, curiously distant and hollow in the forest.
"I'm not there yet," she told him, vaguely aware that he was coming with her on the journey.
"Where are you?"
"Following the path." She felt herself frown. "It's an odd path."
"In what way?"
"Dunno, exactly. Just feels strange."
"Tell me."
She sighed a bit impatiently. "The ground is all spongy. And it smells odd, like… like inside a musty closet. And the light seems to be coming from two different directions. I'm casting two shadows. Isn't that strange?"
"Do you hear anything?"
"I did hear the birds. But now there's just the music."
"What music?"
"I think it's from a music box. I can't remember the tune though. I should, but I can't."
"All right. If you remember, tell me."
"I will." She walked on, noting without any sense of uneasiness the way the trees around her began to assume twisted shapes like nothing in nature. "Hmm."
"Cassie?"
"What?"
"Where are you?"
She was about to report that she was still in the forest, but before she could she came to a distinct fork in the path. Her instincts had nothing to say about the matter, so Cassie flipped a mental coin and picked the right-hand path.
"Cassie, talk to me."
"The path forked. Two roads diverged in a wood… I went right. It was the less-traveled path."
"Cassie, I think it's time to turn around and come back." She realized he was worried and tried to make her voice reassuring. "I'm all right. And, besides, I'm nearly there." "What do you see?" "A door."
"In the middle of the woods?"
Until he asked the question, Cassie hadn't considered it odd. But now she stared at the very large door that appeared to be made of solid oak. "Hmm. I could go around it, but I think I'm supposed to go through it." "Be careful."
It took some time to find the knob, especially since it wasn't a knob at all but a lever hidden cunningly in the wood. She pressed it with a sense of triumph and then pushed open the door.
The forest was gone. Ahead of her stretched a bare hallway with doors opening off to the left and right. It smelled even more like the inside of a long-forgotten closet. With a sigh she started walking. "Cassie?"
"There's a hallway with lots of doors. I'm walking straight down the hall. Damn. This is much faster when I have a guide." "A guide?"
"Something of his. Never mind. I've gone this far, and – " She had opened the door at the end of the long hallway, and the instant she did, the journey was complete. "Oh."
"Cassie? What is it?"
No hallway. No woods. No comforting images. Just the oppressive weight of him around her, the unnerving awareness of another consciousness surrounding her own, and seeing what he saw because she had no other choice.
"It's him." All traces of reassurance and lightness were stripped from her.
"Where is he?"
"A room. Just a room. Drawn curtains. Lamps. There's a bed. He's sitting on the bed."
"What's he doing, Cassie?"
She had come upon him so suddenly that she was wary of giving away her presence, and so tried to keep very still and quiet. "He's… making something."
"What is he making?"
She was silent for a few beats, and then her breath caught in her throat. "It's a piece of wire with a wooden handle on each end. He's making a garrote."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure. I've… seen one before."
"All right. Can you look around, Cassie? Can you tell us more?"
"I can only see what he sees, and he's looking at his hands, watching them… caress the weapon. He likes it."
"Look at his hands. Study them. What can you tell us about them?"
"Young. Strong. No scars except… the inside of each wrist. He bites his nails, but they're clean. Nothing else."
"Do you know what he's thinking?"
"I'm afraid to listen."
"You have to," a new voice ordered.
"Matt, stay out of this! Cassie, don't listen to him unless you're sure you can do it safely."
"I think I can hide from him. But…"
"But what?"
She felt forlorn. "Nothing. I'll listen."
"Be careful."
Cassie made herself very small and very still, and cautiously listened. At first the racket of his thoughts was like static on a radio, crackling painfully in her mind, but slowly the snapping and popping faded as she was able to sift through all the background noise.
"He's… thinking about what he's going to do… to her."
"To who? Who is he thinking about, Cassie?"
"He's – There's no identity. Just her. That's the way he thinks of her. She is going to be sorry. She is going to be so surprised. She… is going to die for a long time."
"Shit."
"Matt. Cassie, is he thinking anything else that might help us? About a place or a particular day?"
"Just… soon. He's eager to… to do it. And this time he wants his hands on her when she dies. That's why the garrote. He wants to feel her… Oh, Christ – "
Cassie crept from his mind as fast as she dared, and once she was out, the hallway and the forest path sped by in a blur. And then she was back inside herself. Her body felt cold and queasy and much more tired than it had before, but at least she was back.
"Cassie?"
She opened her eyes slowly and looked at Ben. He was unusually pale, she realized. Had her horror sounded as overwhelming as it had felt?
"I'm sorry." Her voice sounded damnably weak, but there was nothing she could do about it. "I had to… I couldn't stay there."
It was Matt who asked, "What was he thinking? What was it you couldn't bear to hear?"
She drew a breath and tried to hold her voice steady.
"This one he means to… to rape. He wants to be inside her when she dies."
Ben made a rough sound, but Cassie kept her gaze on the sheriff.
Matt's face was grim. "But you have no idea who it is he'll go after?"