‘Really?’

‘Really.’

Kate sat next to her on the sofa and took hold of one of her hands. Her fingers felt cold. The thought of Cassie opening that horrific package made her feel nauseous. She felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.

‘Listen, I know I haven’t been a friend to you, but I want to make up for that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I know how you must be feeling at the moment, and I want to do something to help.’

‘I’m fine, honestly, I really am,’ she said, as Moisie jumped up on to the sofa next to her. ‘I’ve got everything I need here.’

‘I know you say you are – but I just want to make sure. Which is why I want you to come and stay with me. At my mom’s place.’

‘That’s really kind, Kate, but I –‘

‘Look, I didn’t want to say anything before, but I – I was sent something too.’

‘What do you mean?’ she whispered, suddenly afraid.

‘It was two weeks ago. A dead baby girl. I found her floating in the sea outside my house.’

‘Oh my God.’

The two women went silent.

‘But why? What’s going on?’ asked Cassie.

‘I’m pregnant.’

Cassie didn’t know what to say. Congratulations seemed inappropriate somehow.

‘You don’t think that –‘

‘The two are connected in some way? I think we’ve got to assume that they are.’

Neither woman wanted to be the first to mention the name. They sat in silence as they tried to understand what was going on. But finally, Cassie started to speak.

‘Kate, he is dead, isn’t he?’

‘That’s exactly what went through my mind at first, but yes, he is.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘There is no doubt that Bobby Gleason died in San Quentin on the morning of July 7 2000. One of the guards walked into his cell to find the walls streaked with blood. He’d cut his wrists and neck with a razor blade that must have been smuggled into the prison. The prison medics tried to revive him, but he’d already lost too much blood. There was nothing they could do.’

‘I can’t believe they even tried to keep him alive after what he did.’

‘I know,’ said Kate.

Tears began to form in Cassie’s unseeing eyes.

‘It’s starting all over again,’ she said. ‘The feeling that I’m being shadowed, haunted. It’s like – like he’s still here.’

‘All the more reason why you should come and stay with me at mom’s place. Just for a few weeks until all this is over.’

As Cassie ran her hand over Moisie’s head the cat started to purr.

‘And you know you could always bring this big guy here,’ said Kate.

‘Seriously?’ She thought for a moment. ‘No, it wouldn’t be fair. But I guess at the moment I would feel safer with some people around. I could always ask Ron, the guy from across the hall. He’s always offering to look after him.’

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Why don’t you give him a call now?’

‘And you’re sure you wouldn’t mind – if I moved in for a while? And what about your mom?’

‘I can tell you now my mom is going to adore you. She always said she regretted having only one child. You can pretend to be the second daughter she never had.’

11

Jordan Weislander switched his foot onto the brake pad as traffic on the freeway slowed and then stopped. Approaching the interchange was always like this, especially on Friday nights as people tried to flee the city for the desert or the coast. He looked down from the freeway onto another stationary line of traffic, and then another in the distance, the brake lights of the cars a river of blood flowing through the darkness. He hit the first number on the speed-dial on his carphone and waited impatiently for Nic to pick up.

‘Hi there,’ she said.

‘Hi, honey.’

‘Where are you? Are you nearly home?’

‘Still sitting on the freeway. Did you get the things?’

‘Yeah, it’s all there in the icebox. Went to that new deli that’s just opened? The one I was telling you about?’

‘Great. Listen, can you ring Lakeland and – what’s she called?’

‘Caryn.’

‘And Caryn - and say I’m running behind schedule. Don’t blame the traffic – God, I hate it when people use that excuse on me – but just say I was late working on a case.’

‘Okay. I’ll call them now. Do you want me to help with anything? Any preparation?’

‘No, honey. That’s fine.’

‘Okay. The table is done and I’ve made the desert, sort of like a key lime pie but with grapefruit. I’ve got everything, I think, but I might just give Marcie a call to see if I can borrow that CD she mentioned.’

‘Well you know how she can talk. Hope you make it back in time for dinner.’

He listened to his wife’s smooth, honeyed laugh. ‘Tell me about it. Send out the rescue party if I’m not home.’

‘No problem. Cavalry is on stand by. See you later.’

He cut the connection and started to ease the car forwards. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to the evening, but at least it would take his mind off work. What was it Dr Malcolm, his therapist, had told him? That he was using his job as prosecutor in the district attorney’s office as a form of displacement? That he was in danger of giving his all to his calling to the detriment of his personal life? Sure, he had already fucked up one marriage and screwed with the heads of his two teenage children. He didn’t want to mess it up again. Not with Nic. But it was hard to maintain that work-life balance shit when he knew that kind of sick fucks were out there.

He took a deep breath as the car picked up speed. Tonight he would try to relax. Enjoy himself. Forget. So what if Nic wanted to invite her boss at the real estate office and his wife? He knew the conversation wouldn’t exactly light up the sky with sparks, but if chatting about the problems of the realtor business made Nic happy who could argue with that? When she had first told him that she had fixed herself a job selling, as she had phrased it, ‘properties at the high end of the market’ he had not exactly been thrilled. But she had wanted to feel useful, she said. And it was for only three mornings a week. ‘Well done, darling,’ he had said finally, kissing the baby blonde hair at the nape of her neck. ‘Well done.’