Saving Cassie (Fairfield Corners) (4 page)

Logan walks down the
street, gets in his cruiser and bangs his fists on the steering wheel, trying
to get himself under control, and will his libido into submission.  How can
such a flirtatious little tramp have such an effect on him?  He thinks about
the dream he had after the dance, the dream he hasn’t had for at least six
months.  The dream he started having when he was nine; the dream of blood and
knives and death.  He doesn’t remember specifics other than he is supposed to
protect Reggie, the same as all the other dreams before.  This little tramp
can’t be the Reggie from his dreams, can she?  He pulls his phone out of his
pocket and selects a number.  When he gets voice mail he says, “I found Reggie.
 She’s here in Fairfield Corners.  Call me.”

I close the store at 5 pm
and make my way home.  It’s been a long day and all I want to do is relax.  I
decide to take a nice long bath before I make dinner.  I walk in the house and
notice that Gram’s picture is on the bookshelf again.  I think I’m losing my
mind.  My keys keep disappearing and showing up in the oddest places such as
the freezer or the medicine cabinet in the bathroom upstairs.  I reach out to
move the picture back to the mantel, but it jumps off the shelf and lands on
the floor, breaking the glass.

“Oh no!” I pick it up and
see that it didn’t hurt the picture.  I carry it out to the kitchen to throw
away the broken glass.  The glass is still stuck to the frame so I have to take
the picture out.  When I slide the back off, I find an envelope with my name on
it in Gram’s handwriting.   Why in the world would she hide this in here?  I
open the envelope and find a letter dated three days before she was killed:

My dearest Cassie,

I hope you never have
to read this.  You are my life, you always have been.  Strange things have been
happening here in the house and at the bookstore.  I keep finding the front
door open and the picture on the mantel of the two of us keeps moving to the
bookshelf.  My glasses are disappearing and reappearing in the strangest
places.  Either the house is haunted or I am losing my mind.  You know my views
on the paranormal so I vote for a ghost.  At the store, the door locks and
unlocks itself for no apparent reason.  I have also felt an oppressive presence
both at the house and at the store, I have felt it watching me as if it’s
studying my movements and waiting to pounce.  It may just be an old lady’s
imagination, but I felt that I had to warn you to be careful.

I have discussed my
fears with James, but you know him, you say the word paranormal and he quits
listening.  I love him like my own grandson but he can be so close-minded
sometimes.  He has been doing extra patrols by the house but the phenomenon
continues.

Please be careful and
remember that I love you!

Love always,

Gram

I hold the letter in my
hand, feeling my Gram all around me as I let the tears roll down my face.  I
call James and ask him to stop by when he has time.  He pulls up about 10
minutes later, striding up the porch steps and into the house.  “What’s up,
Reg?  You sounded weird on the phone.”

I explain about finding
the letter hidden behind the picture and I ask him about it.  He explains that
he investigated all of her claims but never found any evidence.  “So, what do
you think it was James?  I have been experiencing some of the same things here
at the house.”

“I think it’s just your
imagination.  There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

I laugh at the expression
on his face.  “Who are you trying to convince?  Me, or you?”

“You know I don’t believe
in that stuff.  I’ll fingerprint the picture frame if it makes you feel better.
 I bet someone is just playing tricks on you.”  He goes out to his cruiser and
gets an evidence bag. He bags the picture frame and seals it.

We both hear a door slam
upstairs.  James runs up the stairs, pulling his gun out of the holster. He
comes back down a few minutes later.  “No one up there and no windows are open.
 It was probably just the house settling.”

“Sure, James.  You have no
imagination!  Someday a ghost is going to come up and scare the crap out of
you, and I want to be there when it happens!”

“You would!  Well, I’m
going to head home to get some dinner.  Let me know if anything else happens.  I’ll
have Steve fingerprint this tomorrow.  If anything turns up you’ll be the first
to know.”

I give him a hug and kiss
on the cheek, “Thanks James!”

James leaves and I have
the house to myself once again.

“I miss you so much Gram.  I
really could use your input on this situation with Deputy Miller.  I felt that
kiss today all the way down to my toes, but I can’t let him into my heart.  I
can’t leave myself open for that kind of hurt again.”  It makes me feel better
to say it out loud.  If there is a ghost, I sure hope it’s Gram!

I wake up the next morning
to find the front door wide open again.  I guess I’m going to have to start
locking it; maybe that will stop it from opening on its own.  Other than that,
there were no other incidents last night.  I get ready to go to the bookstore
and my keys and my phone are both gone.  I find the keys in the microwave and
my phone in the guest room on the dresser.  What a way to start the day!

I go to the diner to get
coffee and doughnuts for the store.  It sure will be nice when I get the coffee
bar in the store.  I have my hands full and I have my back to the door and push
it open.

Suddenly it opens faster
and I almost lose my balance.  Strong hands steady me and keep me from dropping
everything.  “Thank you! That was almost a catastrophe!”

I turn to view my savior and
hear, “No problem, Darlin’.  You really should watch where you are going.”

“I guess so.  Quit calling
me Darlin’!”  I stomp off to the sound of Logan’s laughter.  What did I do in a
past life to deserve this?  I swear he’s stalking me!

It’s an uneventful day at
the bookstore, other than the door locking itself once.  I thought James was
going to break his nose.  I sent Mel home at three, she is looking tired.  She
really deserves a vacation.  Logan walks in about four and waits patiently for
my customer to leave.

“Hey, Darlin’, the boss
asked me to walk you home and make sure your door isn’t hanging open again.”

“Great, he treats me like
I’m five and don’t have the sense God gave a flea.  I am so going to get him
back for this.  And quit calling me Darlin’!”

“He’s just doing his job;
trying to protect everyone in this town, including you.  You could show a
little appreciation for it.  Are you ready to go?”

“Just let me grab my stuff
and lock the door.”  We head out the door and I lock it behind us.  He walks
slightly ahead of me, trying to act as if I’m not there. I’m lagging behind
trying to juggle my purse, laptop, and box of paperwork.  “A gentleman would
help me carry all this stuff you know.”

“You don’t think I’m a
gentleman so why should I act like one?”

I stick my tongue out at
him when he turns his back to me.  I probably look like I’m five when I do that
but I just can’t help myself.  Something about him just rubs me the wrong way.

We get back to my house
and find that the front door is still closed and locked, just the way I left it
this morning.  “Thank you, deputy, for walking me home. Everything looks just
the way I left it so you can get back to whatever you were doing before James
roped you into this.”

“No problem, Darlin’,” he
says as he tips his hat to me and then walks back towards the town square.

“Don’t call me Darlin’!” I
shout after him.  I am going to have to have a serious talk with James.  I don’t
need a babysitter.

After I finish my dinner
and clean up the kitchen, I pour a glass of wine and pull out my laptop.  I
want to work on my coffee bar idea.  I am typing away when I hear something hit
the floor in the living room.  “What now,” I mutter, “as if I don’t have enough
going on I have ghostly things going on in my house.  Gram is that you?”

No answer so it must be my
imagination.  I go into the living room and find a book on the floor.  A semi
must have driven by and the vibration sent the book falling off the shelf.  I
bend down to pick it up and notice it’s not a normal book, it’s a journal.  I
open the front cover and see my Gram’s handwriting.  The first entry is dated
the day I came to live here all those years ago.

My heart is breaking
for you, looking so lost and alone when you arrived.  I barely got a smile out
of you, you cling to me and hang on for dear life.  You have just lost your
parents and your whole life.  It’s your birthday and probably the worst day of
your young life.  You are only six, so young to have to face this kind of
heartache.  I hope that your memory of this day will fade, that the good times
will overshadow the bad.  I can’t believe you have been through so much at such
a young age.  The loss of your parents has shattered my heart, but it started
to mend when the sheriff brought you here.  I will always miss your mother, and
the wonderful man she married.  They were so happy when you were born!

Hopefully I will
someday be able to tell you the whole story.  Right now it’s just too raw.

Remember that your
parents loved you more than their own lives.  I will write a new entry each
year, and eventually, you will be able to read this and hopefully remember
everything with a smile.

There are a couple of
pictures stuck in the front of the book.  A picture of my parents in Las Vegas,
it must be their wedding picture. And a picture of the four of us, I look like
I’m about three years old.  We all look so happy, standing here on the porch.  I
have never seen this picture.  Gram must have stuck it in here and forgotten
about it.  I page forward and find that Gram had already started the entry for
this year.

I am torn about telling
you the truth.  When your memory of that horrible night faded, I thanked God.  It
was too much for you to have to remember, the sight of your parents being
killed by that crazy man.  I discussed this with James and he told me I should
tell you the whole truth.  I will tell you the truth the next time you come
home for a visit.

The entry is not finished;
it looks like she started it just before she was killed.  Paging forward from
the beginning, I notice she usually only made one entry a year on my birthday.  It
must have been weighing on her; I wish she would have talked to me about it.  I’ll
have to talk to James about what they discussed.  I don’t remember when my
parents were killed.  It’s just a big blank spot in my memory.

I call James and make
plans to make him dinner.  Marie is taking Olivia to dance class so it will be
just the two of us.  We need to discuss this, it must be pretty important if
Gram discussed it with him.

The next day I make his
favorite dinner, spaghetti with homemade sauce and garlic bread.  The sauce is
simmering and the water is heating up for the spaghetti.  James knocks and
walks in the front door.

“Hey Reggie, something
sure smells good.  It must be serious, smells like your famous spaghetti sauce.”

“James, I need to talk to
you about something,” I start, “I’m not sure what this is all about.”

“What is it Reg?” his
expression becomes solemn. “You know you can talk to me about anything,” James
replies as he pulls out a chair and sits down at the table.

“I found a journal Gram
started on the day I came to live with her.  The last entry was written about
three days before she was killed.”  I hand the journal to him so he can read the
last, unfinished entry, “according to this my parents didn’t die in a car
accident. They were murdered.”

“I know, Cassie.  Your
Gram talked to me about this a couple of years ago.  She wasn’t sure if she
should tell you after all this time.  I’m surprised she decided to tell you,
especially since the nut job reverend who killed your parents was killed a
couple of years ago.  I know she was always worried that he would get out of
prison and come after you.”

“What?!  She told you and
you didn’t tell me?”  I ask.  “I thought we shared everything,” I say with my
fingers crossed under the table.  Well, I tell him almost everything.

“She made me promise not
to tell you.  She was afraid it would bring back the nightmares and the sleepwalking
but she knew you would want to know.”

“I can’t believe she kept
that from me.  Usually I could tell when she was keeping something from me.”

“She worried about you all
the time.  You were all she had left.  For some reason she seemed to be more
worried than usual the last few weeks of her life.  I tried to get her to talk
about it but you know how she was.  She kept talking about an evil presence.  You
know I loved her, but some of her ideas were really out there.  She even thought
this house was haunted.”

We reminisced some more
about Gram while we ate.  Then, my phone rang; it was Dan calling about the
repairs that I needed to make on Gram’s house, starting with the front door.

James gets up, “I’ll catch
you later Reggie.  I’ve got to get back to work.”  He gives me a peck on the
cheek.  “We’ll talk more about this later.”

After cleaning up, I head
out to the porch to enjoy what may be the last evening of warm weather.  The
forecast calls for temperatures to start falling tomorrow.  I see the deputy
walking down the street, he’s probably headed home after his shift.  Oh great,
I think, here comes Mr. Personality.  He looks at me and tips his hat.

“Miss Cassie,” he says.

“Deputy Logan”, I reply,
thankful that he didn’t call me Darlin’.

After that kiss at the
bookstore, he really gets under my skin.  Must be that sexy southern boy drawl
and the cocky grin.  Good thing I’ve sworn off men!

The next day I head toward
the bookstore.  I still can’t believe I’m the one in charge.  I hope I can do
as well as Gram did.  I do have some ideas to hopefully increase revenue.  I
have tons of contacts in the book industry, maybe I can have an online store
also.  Something to look into anyway.

When I get to the store,
Mel is dusting the shelves behind the register.

“Hi Cassie!” she says and
comes out from behind the counter to give me a hug.  “I’m so excited that you
decided to keep the store open, and not just because I work here.  This store
is a big part of the lifestyle around here.”

“I hope everyone in town
is as excited as you are. I want to start looking at the books to see where we
stand on cash flow and sales.  I have some ideas but I need to make sure the
store’s revenue can support the start-up costs.”

“Great!  Our revenue is
good,” Mel replies, “but there is always room for improvement.  I’d be happy to
keep on doing the books for you if you want.  I did major in accounting when I
went to college.”

“Sounds good to me.  Let’s
discuss where we stand and what extra money we have right now for upgrading our
sales and inventory tracking.  I have also been looking into having a coffee
bar here in the store.  Think about it and let me know.  I value your input
because you’ve been on the front lines here for a couple of years now.”

Mel heads back to the
office for her laptop and I sit down in one of the two lounge areas in the
store.  The customers appreciate having somewhere to sit and relax, read the
paper or a book.  Gram was doing this long before the big chain stores started
doing it.

“Ok, let’s get to work,” I
say, “we’ve got a lot to cover.”

We are interrupted many
times to help customers and ring them up.  Surprising how busy we are for a
small town bookstore, but Gram always prided herself on having a varied
selection of books and having fair prices.  People just don’t want to drive 30
miles to Fort Wayne to the nearest big chain bookstore when they can get the
same books here.  We also do a lot of special orders, a great service to have
so we don’t have to carry such a large inventory.

The bell over the door
rings again.

“I’ll get it this time Mel,”
I say, “you keep working on that cash flow report.”

I turn around and there he
is again, the disapproving deputy is in my store.  Oh well, let’s get this over
with.

“Hello Deputy Miller, what
can I help you with today?”  I’m glad Mel is here, no stolen kisses today.

“Miss Cassie,” he says and
tips his hat, “I wondered if my special order has come in yet?”

Heavens to Betsy, gotta
love that southern drawl.  Makes my knees weak.  “Let me check on that.”  I go
over to Mel and ask her about his order.  “Yep, it’s on the special order shelf
below the register,” she says, “the invoice is on top of the books.”

I return to the counter
and bend down to get the books off the shelf.  Hmmm… a science fiction and a
biography.  What a varied taste in books.  I hand the books to him and our
hands brush lightly, I feel a tingle all the way up to my elbow.

I croak, “that will be
$30.54.”  He smiles as he reaches for his wallet.  God, I’m doomed… where did
that smile come from?  He must have noticed my reaction to his touch.

He hands me his credit
card.  “Here, put it on my card,” he says.

Get a grip Cassie.  You’re
not in a place to start a relationship right now.  I take his card and run it
through the credit card system, at least Gram had already updated that.  “I just
need your signature and you’re good to go,” I say.  He signs the slip and hands
it back to me, our hands touch again (I swear he did that on purpose).  That
small touch makes me weak in the knees.  I lean on the counter to keep my
balance, wow, he sure is potent!

“Thanks, Miss Cassie.”

I nod, “I’ve been wanting
to read that biography, let me know if it’s any good.”

“Sure thing.”

Wow, how am I going to
combat these feelings?  It’s a purely chemical reaction, no big deal.  I can
handle it, I tell myself as I fan myself with a magazine off the counter.  Gonna
have to stay as far away from him as possible.  I just won’t go see James at
the sheriff’s office unless I know he is out on patrol or something.