Would she prove to have a faint heart, she wondered. In the end, would she be capable of alone doing what needed to be done to write the kind of books she had worked on with her dad?

For years Josh sheltered her from the ugliest realities of their work. Now there was no one to stand between her and the horror, the madness she’d be stirring up. Was she smart enough to do this on her own? Was she strong enough?

Time would tell, one way or another. She stood up and took one last look at the heavens, hoping she was up to the challenge of following in Josh’s footsteps. Yes, it was difficult work. Yes, it was tiring, and at times the information she had made no sense at all. She’d never realized how like a giant, convoluted puzzle her father’s work was. Sometimes it seemed like a maze with no exit. A story written in a foreign language, one you didn’t know.

The work was interesting, absolutely. Intriguing, without question. And, too, just a little bit fun.

But there was always that bottom line, that behind every name there was a face and a story, a family waiting for closure.

And a killer waiting to be caught.

Cass leaned over to touch her toes, then straightened up and flexed her shoulders. Placing one foot on the outside wall of the garage, she pushed forward slightly, knee bent, to stretch a different set of muscles.

Amazing what a good night’s sleep could do. She felt rested enough to crave a long run on the beach. It had been more than a week since she’d had a decent run, though it felt much longer.

She shook her head when she looked back on the past nine days, days that had held so much pain, so much horror for the families of those young women, in so short a time.

She took ten more minutes to properly stretch, then opened the back door and called in to Lucy.

“Luce! I’m going for a run. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“I don’t have running shoes,” Lucy called back.

“I told you I have an extra pair if you want to borrow them. They should fit you.”

“I’ll take a rain check.” Lucy appeared at the screen door. “I’m still greasy from the beach.”

She held out an arm slick with suntan oil.

“You missed an excellent beach day, sleeping beauty.”

“I needed the sleep more than I needed the sun.”

“While you’re gone, I’m going to shower all this stuff off and then I’ll start dinner. I think you need a really wholesome dinner tonight.”

“I thought last night’s dinner of crabs and French fries was just perfect.”

“Too much fat.” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “But what are crabs without a little butter and a big bowl of fries with Old Bay? Now, tonight, we’ll eat healthy.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Cass eyed her suspiciously.

“Something yummy. I’ll run to the fish market as soon as I get cleaned up. We’ll have something broiled, maybe sea bass or tuna or whatever they have that looks good and is today-fresh. And a big salad.”

“I think there are some fries left from last night.”

“I tossed them. We had our bad fats for the week. Tonight it’s healthy seafood and a salad.”

“Sounds good. Fat or no fat.” Cass leaned down to retie a shoe. “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes or so.”

“Do you have your key?”

“In my pocket. Why?”

“I want to lock the house while I shower and then when I go to the store.”

“Good idea.” Cass heard the click of the lock as she set off in the direction of the driveway.

Once on the sidewalk, she adjusted her sunglasses and began to jog slowly to the end of the street, five houses down. The house immediately to their right and the two houses nearest the corner were still vacant, the summer renters not having arrived yet. It was okay, Cass thought, she didn’t mind not having neighbors. It was enough she had someone sharing her house.

Though she had to admit she didn’t mind Lucy’s presence. If anything, she was beginning to enjoy it. She’d forgotten what it was like to share living space with someone else, she’d been on her own so long.

On the one hand, it was nice. On the other, it reminded her of those awful days, the ones after she had lost her family and had gone to live with Lucy and Aunt Kimmie and Uncle Pete. She and Lucy had shared a room for a few months, while Aunt Kimmie had the second floor finished off with two new bedrooms and one bath, so the girls could have their own rooms. It had been the worst time of Cass’s life. And yet, in Lucy she’d found a true friend, in spite of their differences.

Cass jogged up the narrow wooden boardwalk onto the beach, reflecting on some of those differences. Lucy was now, always had been, supremely girly. Even as a child, Lucy’s bathing suits had been pink, or pale blue, or white. She always wore ribbons in her hair, like her mother and her aunt, Cass’s mother, did. She jumped rope occasionally, but spent most of her time at home reading or with her dolls, so it was no real surprise when she married young and began a family right away.

The only time Cass had ever seen her cousin sweat was when she played basketball. Everyone assumed Lucy wanted to play only because Cass did, but then she’d played with surprising aggression.

They’d been very close in high school, Cass reflected as she ran along the water’s edge. They’d remained close until Lucy married that rat-bastard David. What had she seen in him, anyway? He wasn’t a good conversationalist, he wasn’t funny or particularly smart or even all that good-looking. What had Lucy seen in him?

Not that it mattered now, Cass thought as she ran a zigzag pattern around the towels of several sunbathers who lay on their blankets, wrapped in towels, the late-afternoon sun not nearly strong enough to ward off the chill.

“Hey! Cass!” someone called from behind.

She turned, to find Rick Cisco approaching.

“I thought that was you,” he said as he jogged up to join her.

“You’re a runner,” she said, judging his practiced gait.

“When I have time. Today seemed like a good day to take a break and get in a few miles.”

“It’s a good day for it. Not too hot, the humidity hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“How far are you going?” he asked.

“As far as the next jetty. About another half mile.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Suit yourself.”

She broke into a run and he matched her pace.

They ran in silence, their running shoes pounding softly against the sand, their breath coming in equal measure. When they reached the stone jetty, she stopped and looked out to sea.

“I usually walk out to the end,” she told him.

“I’m game, as long as you don’t mind the company.”

She did, but she shrugged it off. You can’t always be alone, she reminded herself. Sometimes you have to share your space with other people. This week seems to be one of those times. Buck up and get used to it.

She looped her thumbs in the pockets of her running shorts and walked the length of the jetty, picking her way across the rocks. At the end, she searched for the flattest rock she could find, and sat on it. She glanced up at Rick, who had followed her, and patted the rock next to her.

“It’s not exactly cushy, but it’s about as flat as you’ll find.”

He looked down at the proffered seat uncertainly, then lowered himself carefully to the rock. His long legs hung over the side and his feet rested on the rocks below.

“This is nice,” he said. “Great view.”

She pointed off to the left. “The charter boats are starting to come in.”

“What do they fish for?”

“Tuna. Blues. Whatever is running. They have to go pretty far out for both, this time of year.”

“You do a lot of fishing?”

“None, actually. Not at all.”

“Oh. You sounded so knowledgeable.”

“My dad had a charter. He used to go out every day. He loved it. He was such a smart man, he could have done anything he wanted. All he ever wanted was to fish.” She smiled, remembering Bob Burke’s love of the sea.