She shook her head. “I haven’t even been inside since that day. I went straight to my aunt and uncle’s after I was released from the hospital.”

“Has anyone been inside?”

“Maybe my grandparents, while they were still alive. The police gave my grampa the key when they finished up. I found it on a hook near the back door after he died.”

“Where’s the key now?”

She dug in her pocket and pulled out her key ring.

“Right here,” she said. “I know what you’re thinking. You think it’s stupid to hold on to a property for all these years if you’re never going to do anything with it. Several acres of ground, this close to the bay, it does have great value, I know that. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been offered for it. But I can’t bring myself to live here, and I can’t bring myself to part with it. I can’t go inside, but I can’t stay away. It’s the last place we were a family. The last place I saw them.”

Cass looked over her shoulder at the house. “Sometimes I think they’re still here, just inside the door. Sometimes I think I see my mother at one of the windows.”

She glanced at him, looking for a reaction.

“You must think I’m loony.”

“I can understand why you would want to see her. I can understand why you would look for her here. Whether you sell the house or keep it, whether you go inside or not, it’s no one’s business but your own. If it comforts you to sit here, that’s what you need to do. You suffered a terrible loss, Cass.” He reached over and took her hand. “ Denver told me about what happened to you. I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say, how to say how sorry I am for all you went through.”

She nodded an acknowledgment and stared out at the cattails.

“When I was little, the cattails didn’t come up so close to the back here. They did on the side, but out here, out back, it was open all the way to the marsh. There are tidal flats back there, and Lucy and I would use pieces of wood to make little bridges so we could walk out there. We had a plank we carried with us to put down; we’d walk across the water, pick up the plank, and take it with us to the next little stream…” She paused, remembering. “Sometimes the mosquitoes would be so fierce. And the flies! Oh, man, we would get those green flies out there… big enough to lift you up and carry you out to the bay. We’d come in some days covered in welts, and my mother would dab at the bites with calamine on cotton balls.”

She swallowed a lump and tried to smile. “It’s funny what you remember, isn’t it? The things you remember from your childhood?”

Cass sighed, and looked up at him. “What do you remember from your childhood, what’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”

“Falling out of the hayloft in my grandparents’ barn when I was three,” he answered without hesitation.

“Were you hurt?”

“Broke both arms.” He moved aside the hair that hung slightly over his forehead to show off a jagged scar. “Landed face-first on the dirt floor.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t crack your skull open.”

“Apparently I had a hard head. I also took some hay with me when I pitched off the loft.”

“Like I said, lucky.”

“It was only the first in a long series of mishaps. I had a bumpy childhood. I was a bit on the reckless side, I guess.”

“Did you spend a lot of time on your grandparents’ farm? Is this the grandmother who taught you how to bake?”

He smiled that she remembered.

“Yes. I lived with them pretty much until I was five.”

“And after that?”

“I still spent a lot of time with them. I just didn’t live with them full-time.”

“And your family? Brothers? Sisters?”

“Two half brothers, two half sisters. All younger. One mother, one stepfather.”

“What happened to your father?”

“I never got to know my biological father very well. I was the product of a youthful indiscretion, as the saying goes. My mother married my stepfather when I was five. He’s really the only father I know.”

“They’re still in Texas?”

“Yes. All of them.”

“Do you go back often?”

“Not so much anymore,” he said softly. “I did while my gram was still alive, but now there doesn’t seem to be much of a point to the trip.”

Cass wished she could ask about that-about why there would be no point to visiting his mother or the others-but knew better than to pry. She knew what it was like to carry around things you hated to talk about, about the feeling you got when someone started to probe amongst all those places you kept to yourself. As sure as she had her secrets, Rick Cisco had some of his own.

She found herself hoping that maybe someday she’d find out what they were.

Rick looked at his watch.

“The afternoon is just about gone. You want to hang around here for a while longer?”

“I guess not.” She glanced up. The sun was well off to the west. “We missed breakfast. And lunch. We should probably get something to eat.”

“Amen to that.”

She smiled. “There’s a place not far down the road that makes great burgers.”

“You’re reading my mind.” Rick stood up, suddenly aware that he was still holding on to her hand. He pulled her off the step, but did not let go. “Feel any better?”

“I do. A little. Maybe a little more at peace.” She made no effort to pull her hand away as they walked toward the car. “I always feel more settled after I’ve been here for a while. I know that must sound crazy, after everything that happened here.”

She smiled almost apologetically and added, “We were such a happy family, Rick. I know, it’s easy to idealize your childhood, your family… but truly, we were all very happy.”

She stood next to the car and looked back at the house, her eyes darting from one window to the next before focusing on a bay window on the second floor. He followed her gaze, but saw nothing there.

Maybe she’s imagining someone there, Rick thought as he walked around the front of the car. Could be she needs to see someone there. Well, if it gives her comfort, who’s to say…

He glanced up again as he opened his car door, and for a split second wasn’t sure that he hadn’t seen something in the bay window. A shadow maybe. He looked over the roof of the car to where she stood, then back up to the window. Whatever he’d thought he’d seen was gone.

Power of suggestion, he told himself as he got behind the wheel. Nothing more than that.

Through the open conference room door, Cass could hear the approaching click click click of high heels on the tile floor as they moved briskly, efficiently, in her direction. She looked up at the precise moment that the wearer of those shoes stepped over the threshold.

“Ah, here’s Dr. McCall,” Rick announced, and rose to greet the attractive blond woman who carried herself and her handsome leather briefcase with confidence.

“Agent Cisco.” She smiled. “And you must be Chief Denver.”

She left her briefcase on the chair nearest her and walked to the head of the table to offer her hand, which Denver shook somewhat gently.

“Thanks for coming, Dr. McCall.”

She nodded and moved on to the next chair, where Cass sat.

Rick made the introductions. “Annie-Dr. McCall-this is Cass Burke. Detective Burke.”

“It’s good to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Dr. McCall,” Cass said. “Agents Peyton and Cisco tell me you’re one of the best at what you do.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have formed your own opinion by the time we’re through here.” She looked at the empty chairs that stood around the table and asked, “Where is Agent Peyton? I understood he’d be sitting in on this meeting.”

“I spoke with him about an hour ago,” Rick told her. “He’s been tracking information about some older kills that he believes may be related to these. He said something about being in the middle of receiving some faxes and wanting to stay until everything had come through.”