Manhunt. Carla Cassidy
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right now and it’s best if you don’t find yourself walking the square after dark.”
“You’re talking about the Shameless Slasher,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, that’s what the newspaper calls him. Sick animal is more like it. I like you, Nick. I don’t want to see you hurt while you’re in Cherokee Corners. I just thought you needed to know about the danger of men going out after dark.”
He smiled, touched by the woman’s caring. “Actually, the killings are what brought me here. I’m an FBI agent and I’ve been assigned to the case.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ruby exclaimed. “Here I’ve been sitting with an official G-man and didn’t even know it. I thought you boys always wore suits.”
Nick laughed. “In this kind of heat? Not this G-man, at least not until I’m officially on duty, and that isn’t until tomorrow.”
Ruby leaned toward him, bringing with her a powerful scent of perfume. “Are you packing?”
Always,” he said, thinking of the ankle holster that fit snug against the skin beneath his jeans.
Then I guess I won’t worry about you.”
“Hopefully when I finish my work here, you won’t have to worry about anyone,” Nick replied.
A few minutes later he left the café. Night had just begun to fall, shadows usurping the light in the alley first. He didn’t take the alley, but rather walked around the square back to the ice-cream parlor.
All he needed to finish off the good steak meal was a strawberry sundae and maybe a little chat with the intriguing Alyssa Whitefeather.
It was quarter until nine when he walked through the door that he’d first entered earlier in the day. There were several people seated at the round tables, finishing up sodas and ice-cream treats. Alyssa stood behind the counter and her eyes darkened as she saw him enter. If he didn’t know better, he would guess that it was a visceral dislike that sparked from her eyes. But how was that possible? She didn’t know anything about him.
He walked up to the counter and scooted onto a stool and offered her a friendly smile. It was not returned. “What can I get for you, Mr. Mead?”
“How about a strawberry sundae, and please, make it Nick, since I’m going to be staying here for a while.”
She made no comment, but turned her back and began to prepare his ice cream. Her long, dark hair was now pulled back at the nape of her neck, caught and held there by a light blue barrette. Her movements were efficient, but graceful at the same time.
From the back she was quite pleasant to look at, but when she turned to face him, her eyes were fathomless and unfriendly. She set the ice-cream treat in front of him then started to walk away.
“Whom do I talk to about turndown service?” he asked.
She stopped walking and turned back to look at him. She was quite pretty. Her skin appeared flawless, her bone structure delicate, and her lips were full but pressed tightly together at the moment. “That would be me,” she said.
“Great, then I’d like the service.”
“Fine.” Once again she started to move away and once again he stopped her by speaking to her.
“Are you always this friendly with guests or is it just me you don’t particularly like?”
Her cheeks took on a little more color as she drew a deep breath. “It has nothing to do with liking or disliking you. Mr. Mead, I don’t know what brought you to Cherokee Corners, but you should leave.”
The words tumbled from her as if she was unable to help herself. “You shouldn’t be here in this town and you shouldn’t be staying in my bed-and-breakfast.”
Nick wondered if she didn’t know exactly who he was and why he was here. Was it possible she knew something about the murders? “Lady, what in the hell are you talking about?”
Alyssa stared at him, horrified by what she’d said and even more horrified as she realized he expected an explanation from her.
She couldn’t tell him about her visions, he’d think she was some kind of nut. “I just think you should know there is a murderer loose in Cherokee Corners and it isn’t safe for you to be here. It isn’t safe for any men alone to be in town.” There, that didn’t sound too crazy, she thought.
“I know all about the Shameless Slasher.” He picked up his spoon and dipped it into the strawberry-covered ice cream. “That’s why I’m here.”
Alyssa stared at him in surprise. On some level she felt herself examining his sinfully handsome good looks, looking for something that would tell her he was not the man she’d been having the horrible visions about.
His dark hair was clipped neatly, although it had just enough wave to soften the cut. He had a Roman nose and below that a wide mouth with sensual lips. But it was his eyes that made him so striking, those intense blue eyes against the foil of his dark hair and tanned face. Unlike the blue of her eyes, which was dark, more a midnight kind of blue, his were the color of a cloudless summer sky.
The same man. There was absolutely, positively no doubt in her mind that he was the same man who had occupied center stage in her latest bout of visions.
“What do you mean that’s why you’re here?” She finally responded to his words.
“I’m an FBI agent, Alyssa,” he said. “Beginning tomorrow, two other agents will be working with me and your police department to find the killer.”
An FBI agent. Alyssa reeled with this new knowledge. Why had her visions shown her killing an FBI agent who had come to town to offer his expertise in catching the killer?
“Eat your ice cream before it melts,” she said absently, then turned to Tina, the teenage girl who helped her out in the evenings. “I’ll be right back.”
Tina nodded and Alyssa hurried through a door that led to the upstairs so she could attend to the turndown service he’d requested.
She took the stairs that led to the four bedrooms on the second level. She could tell that in three of them the occupants had already gone into their rooms for the night. Doorknob hangers read, Do Not Disturb.
The fourth room, what they referred to as the blue bedroom, was Alyssa’s favorite. The furniture was cherrywood antiques in beautiful condition. The double bed was covered with a light blue gingham print and lace-eyelet spread. Light blue curtains hung at the windows and a gingham tablecloth covered the small table in the corner.
Dark blue throw pillows were thrown on the bed for accent and a cobalt-blue vase filled with fresh flowers had been moved from the table to the top of the dresser. The paintings on the wall mixed the shades of blue to tie everything all together in a lovely, peaceful atmosphere.
But there was certainly no peace in Alyssa as she now entered the room. She immediately spied the briefcase on the table. She knew it probably contained reports on the murders that had taken place in Cherokee Corners. She didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to even get close to it. She was afraid of what might happen.
She turned on the bedside lamp and searched in her pocket for the mints she would set on the pillow after she turned down the blankets and prepared the bed for night.
She placed the mints on the nightstand, then folded down the bedspread, exposing crisp pale blue sheets. A headache began across the front of her forehead, a frighteningly familiar headache.
Knowing she needed to get out of the room as quickly as possible, she grabbed the mints and placed them on the pillow.
The instant her fingers made contact with the pale blue pillowcase, she froze, blinded by the vision that swooped over her more swiftly, more vividly than any she’d ever suffered before.
She was in the bed…amid the pale blue