Chapter 4

"How was it?" Lisa asked when Cassie let herself in through the front door. "Did you like the redwoods? Did you meet anyone?" She was wearing a salmon-pink dress with silver buttons, and her hair was piled high in an artistic tumble on top of her head.

"It was fine," Cassie said, avoiding Lisa's eyes and searching anxiously for any sign of her mother. "How's Mom doing? Is she awake?"

"She was," Lisa said. "She ate some soup and sat up for a while at lunch time. I brought the little television in for her and she watched the noon news program, but she's still in a lot pain. She fell asleep again about an hour ago."

"She didn't mind that I went to see the redwoods?" Cassie asked in surprise. She had expected her mother to be pacing the kitchen when she got home, cracked rib or no cracked rib, ready to jump down her throat the minute she walked through the door. If she'd been awake when Lisa hatched the plan of sending Cassie to Henry Cowell State Park, she would have never allowed it, but she hadn't been awake and Lisa had seemed to think it was perfectly normal to send her there. The truth was, Cassie had jumped at the chance. Why shouldn't she go? Even if her father was still after them - which she highly doubted - there was no way he could have tracked them this fast; her mother was over-reacting, like usual.

Still, guilt had nearly paralyzed her during the bus ride out there and when she'd reached the entrance to the park, she had debated turning around. Then she'd stepped into the woods and her worries had fallen away, replaced by a longing so strong it compelled her forward. She had walked down the path with her head tilted back, forgetting her mother and everything else until Stan had cornered her in the tree. She'd been too busy to worry then, but when the bus pulled out for the ride home, a wave of guilt washed over her, so intense it had left her perched on the edge of her seat, her stomach in knots. It was Lisa who'd pushed her to go - insisted on it, actually - but that didn't change anything; her mother would hold her to blame.

Lisa hesitated. "I never actually told her you had gone," she admitted sheepishly. "I didn't want her to worry, so I said you had already eaten and were resting upstairs. Was that wrong of me? I knew you'd be perfectly safe."

Cassie choked back an incredulous laugh, both at the boldfaced way Lisa admitted her crime and her expectation that Cassie hadn't been in danger. Perfectly safe? Not quite, she thought. But she relaxed a little.

"Didn't Mom ask to see me?"

"She did," Lisa admitted. "I told her I wasn't going to wake you up. And then I gave her a sleeping pill and knocked her out."

Cassie sputtered. "You did what?"

"Look. This all has to end, doesn't it? You can't keep running for the rest of your lives. It's time for your mother to face her fears and be done with them. It's time for you to get on with living - with being a teenager. She told me everything that's happened over the last nine years and her plans for the future, and it's insane, Cassie. She'll run herself to death and she'll take you down with her. I'm not going to let her do that. I care about her too much."

Cassie gaped at the woman and in that second, when she felt it slip, she realized how hard she had been working to keep up a brave front. It took every effort - every shred of will she had - to stay calm and cheerful while she lived like a fugitive. But no one had ever noticed. No one had ever looked into her life and seen that she was sinking fast, giving way under the pressure to preserve a sense of normalcy when she hadn't lived a normal day in nine interminable years. She fought to keep her voice steady.

"What are you going to do?"



"First, I'm going to help your mother reach a more rational state. She's exhausted." Lisa shook her head. "I bet she hasn't had a real night's sleep in years. She's been too afraid. It's going to take a few days for her to get thoroughly rested, so we'll have to be patient, but then, when she's got her strength back and her rib is healed up a bit, we'll sort out what's real and what's not. We'll figure out a plan."

Cassie frowned. "What do you mean, what's real?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, sweetie; we'll get it all cleared up. Now why don't you go and take a peek in at your mom? See if she needs a drink or something."

Lisa disappeared into the kitchen and Cassie walked down the hall slowly, thinking over Lisa's words. Could she really help? Would her mother agree to stay? What plan could Lisa concoct in a few days that her mother hadn't already thought of and rejected during the years they'd been on the run?

Cassie couldn't begin to guess. She opened the door and slipped inside her mother's room. Renee was asleep. She looked peaceful; her breathing was even and her color was better than it had been the day before. A portable television was propped on Lisa's dresser and her mother's suitcase sat open on a chair.

"Mom?" Cassie whispered. She edged around the bed to her mother's side. "Mom."

Renee shifted in her sleep and turned her head away. Cassie sighed. What would she say, anyway, if her mother were awake? If she mentioned anything that had happened in the forest - if she even told her mother she had gone there - she would panic and want to leave, and they couldn't leave now. Not while there was a chance Lisa might have a better plan.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. If she was honest with herself, she didn't want to go, anyway. She wanted to stay, even if they were in danger. She was consumed with curiosity - about Stan and Hawk; about Jay. She was dying to know what they were doing out there in the woods. We'll send you home in a bodybag. That's what Jay had said to the Australian they captured, and Hawk had called their organization the WFA. She wondered what the initials stood for. If they were fighting terrorists, were they part of the FBI? Or were they some kind of environmental wing of the military?

Come to think of it, since when had Australians become terrorists? She had never heard anything about that on the television or the radio. She knew there were attacks and explosions in places like Malaysia sometimes. Wasn't that kind of close to Australia? She could hear what her mother would say; you should know that. Cassie made a face. She'd better start paying more attention to geography - the next time she got any schooling of any kind. She tapped her fingers on the covers; the men in the woods had been talking about explosives. They'd said the Australian was planning to blow up a tree, but why would he do that? She thought of the lieutenant; why would someone burn them down? There was something strange going on here, something dangerous, even without her father finding them. Maybe they should go, after all.

No. There was no way she was leaving so soon. In any case, they'd drive an hour or two, run out of gas and then what? They had no money and no place else to go. There was nothing safe about that.

She thought of Jay - the way he'd touched her - and she ducked her head although there was no one to see her blush. Her life had been curiously devoid of men, except for her grandfather. She had no father, no friends. No boyfriends. Her mother made sure of that.

Up close, Jay had smelled like...like a man, Cassie supposed. A mixture of sweat and dirt, and something else, something that reminded her of the forest. There'd been stubble on his cheek where he'd missed it with his razor. Fine lines edged the corners of his mouth. And the things he'd said...

Was that what it had been like when her mother met her father? she wondered, pleating the coverlet uneasily between her fingers. Had Rob whispered in her mother's ear? Had she been too fascinated by him to say no? Back in the woods there had been a moment when Cassie had been surrounded by men. Hawk and Stan, Jay and the lieutenant. All of them focused on her. All of them seeing her.

No one ever saw her.

Cassie shook off these uncomfortable thoughts. Don't be stupid. You let down your guard and nearly got caught. No wonder Mom doesn't allow you to go out alone. You were tricked by the first man to come along, just like she was.

And she had been tricked, Cassie realized suddenly. She had to have been. First Stan had been here in the meadow across from Lisa's house, and then he had appeared at Henry Cowell, as if he knew she'd be there. Was he watching her? Following her? And how did he and Hawk know all that stuff about when she was a kid? Stan had described the meadow behind her grandparent's house perfectly, and Hawk....she got a chill again, just thinking about the way he'd imitated her. Her wishing tree. Cassie shook her head; she hadn't thought of that in years.



She'd discovered it the first week she'd visited her grandparents; a path led from their backyard through the woods to a meadow where a large, glacier-dropped boulder sat to one side, shaded by a small oak tree. The place soon became her haven. Whenever her mother and grandfather started arguing, as they frequently did, Cassie would slip away and run along the track that led to the clearing. She would climb on top of the large boulder, take hold of the oak and shake it for all she was worth while she made a wish. If a leaf shook free it meant her wish would come true. Leaves always shook free.

Her wishes had never come true.

Cassie sighed. You couldn't make that stuff up and get it right; Stan had been there. So had Hawk. And if they'd been there, so close to where the murders had happened...

She stroked her mother's hair and pulled the covers an inch higher, fighting back the fears that tightened her gut. The boys knew her, she couldn't deny that, but at the time of the murders they would have been children, just like her. It was the lieutenant who really frightened her. She remembered how he'd scowled when he saw her bruises. Did he know she'd seen him shooting the burning arrows at the eucalyptus trees? Did he think she would tell the police what he'd done?

Maybe that's all it is, she thought, but she couldn't fool herself into believing it. There was more going on here and if she were smart she would leave while she could. But where can we go? she asked herself for the thousandth time. The answer remained the same; nowhere. Not until her mother's rib healed, at least.

"Cassie?" Lisa appeared in the doorway and motioned her out. "Come help me with dinner, would you? I'm making a quiche."

Cassie followed her into the kitchen reluctantly and took the cutting board and knife Lisa offered.

"Could you chop up some garlic?" Lisa handed her two small cloves. "Now tell me more about your day. Aren't the redwoods spectacular? Was it crowded?"

"A little."

"Meet anyone special?"

Cassie concentrated on peeling off the garlic's papery skin. "No," she said. No matter what, she wasn't going to confide in Lisa. She would want to call the police and Cassie knew for sure her mother would be against that. Once you call them, you're on the record, she had told Cassie many times. Your name, where you live - everything. Your father would find us before they could begin to help.

Lisa pulled a large Pyrex bowl out of a cupboard. "I'm surprised," she said. "I almost always meet someone when I go hiking. People are so friendly out in the woods." She cracked eggs one at time into the bowl until she'd worked through two-thirds of the carton. "I remember one time I met a woman who knew my mother from college. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?" She paused expectantly.

Cassie thought fast; Lisa obviously wanted some gossip. "There was a family from India there," she offered. "I saw them in the parking lot. The women were wearing saris and they were so pretty."

"Anyone else?"

Cassie shrugged. "Not really."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Cassie said, a little annoyed; she didn't like lying and she wished the woman would drop the subject.

Lisa pressed her lips together and went to get a tray.

They sat at a mosaic table tucked in the corner of the courtyard and Cassie eyed the meadow across the street uneasily. Lisa followed her gaze.

"That's Arana Gulch. It's a protected area. It's a great place for bird-watching," she said. "Sometime we'll go there for a walk, okay?"

"Sure." Cassie made herself look away. There's no one there, she told herself, but she wished they were eating inside. She felt exposed out here. "How did you and Mom meet?" she asked, to change the subject.



"We've known each other forever," Lisa said in surprise. "I moved in next door to her when I was five. Didn't she ever tell you about me?"

"No," Cassie said.

"Huh," Lisa said. She looked put out. "We grew up together."

"I don't remember meeting you when we visited Grandma and Grandpa."

"I was gone by then," Lisa said. "I moved out when I was twenty-one. I worked at a hospital in Ohio for about ten years before I came here to California."

Cassie considered this, taking a bite of quiche. "How come you and my mom didn't talk for so long if you were such good friends?"

"Oh," Lisa said, waving a hand. "That was your mom, you know what she's like." When Cassie didn't respond, she added, "Oh, come on. She always has to have her own way. She's always so sure she's right."

Cassie laughed in spite of herself. "Yeah, that's true."

Encouraged, Lisa picked up steam. "She was jealous of me. That's how it all started."

Cassie didn't mean to raise her eyebrows, but she did and Lisa pounced.

"You think I was always like this?" she demanded. "I was beautiful back then, prettier than your mother and richer, too. Renee never liked playing second fiddle, but she got back at me, that's for sure."

"What did she do?" Cassie said.

Lisa frowned and pushed her food around her plate with her fork. "She chased away the love of my life, that's what she did. She wanted Jason for herself, you know. She didn't even look at Rob at first."

Cassie was lost. "Who's Jason?"

"She didn't tell you anything, did she?" Lisa said. "Jason was Rob's friend; we met them on our graduation night. We had a big bonfire out in the clearing behind your grandparents' house. Half our class showed up." She smiled at the memory. "We built our fire near that big, old pine."

Cassie knew just the tree she meant. It was an ugly tree that stood right in the center of the meadow. Huge and unclimbable, its bark sported open sores that ran with sap. She'd been sitting on her boulder the day her grandfather cut it down and she'd been glad to see it go. She found it difficult to picture her mother attending a party out there, though; her mother never went in the woods if she could help it.

"Fisher brought them," Lisa said. "Rob and Jason."

"Fisher? The guy who went to school with you - the one who liked Mom?" Cassie asked.

"He didn't go to our school," Lisa corrected her. "But he was always around. Your mother's right," she frowned. "He was a mess back then. Never changed his clothes, always hungry. I never liked him, but your mother did, no matter what she says now. I guess I'm partly to blame; I was a snob back then, but I was wrong about him, you know? He turned out better than anyone might have guessed." She put the bite of quiche in her mouth and chewed it slowly. "They showed up together that night; Fisher, Jason and Rob. Your mother was all over Jason - she threw herself at him - but he liked me better. The rest is history."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Lisa said. "She couldn't have Jason, so she went off with Rob instead. She was determined to get into trouble, I think. I told her she should stay with the group, but would she listen? No." Lisa smoothed a wrinkle out of her skirt. "The next morning she was at my house, crying and carrying on. Rob was missing. They'd stayed out all night and then, poof! He was gone. Dumped her in the middle of the woods. She was hysterical. She wanted me to help look for him." Lisa shook her head in disgust. "Can you believe it? Anyone else would have been mortified, but not your mom. Oh, no. Not Renee. She was ready to call the police and get a whole search party together."



"Then what happened?" Cassie asked, leaning forward. She'd heard none of this before and she couldn't square it with what she knew of her mother. When they talked about her father, her mother always said the same thing; she'd been totally fooled. Rob had swept her off her feet and she'd gone with him willingly, never dreaming he'd be the type of man who'd one day turn to violence. But she'd never mentioned Jason. Or that Rob had disappeared before the night was out.

"I told your mother to go on home and forget him. I had plans to meet Jason later that day - we were supposed to go on a picnic. But your mother..." Lisa looked fit to burst. "She can't ever leave well enough alone. She went back out there to search for Rob. She found Jason instead."

"And?" Cassie had to ask, although she felt sure she wouldn't like Lisa's answer.

"Jason was my boyfriend," Lisa said angrily. "He was on his way to see me, but she made a pass at him."

Cassie sat back. "Are you sure?" That didn't sound like her mother.

Lisa's face darkened. "She must have. Why else would he leave? He was so disgusted by her..."

"I don't think she would have done that." Cassie put down her fork.

"Oh, that's not what she said, of course. To hear her tell it you'd think he was the one who..." Lisa stopped and clapped a hand over her mouth and Cassie watched her struggle to pull herself together. "I am so sorry," she said finally, and when she looked up her cheeks had gone pink. "My goodness, I can't believe I just said all that; I sound like a nutcase. You're probably thinking I've gone off my rocker."

"No," Cassie hastened to say, scrambling to keep up with the woman's mood changes, but Lisa laughed unhappily.

"For God's sake, what else could you think? It was years ago, and I'm acting like it happened yesterday. I am such a fool." She shook her head again and dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. "What can I tell you, Cassie? I fell for that man hard and I"ve never met anyone else like him. That's just the way Jason was. Your mother felt it, too. Neither of us stood a chance when he came around."

A jolt of anger stabbed through Cassie; Lisa was lying. It wasn't like that at all. Rob wasn't her mother's second choice.

"I didn't realize I was still so angry," Lisa was saying. "I thought I'd let it go, but seeing your mom again...I guess it brought it all up."

"That's okay," Cassie said automatically, but it wasn't okay and she wished she could run into the house and slam the door.

"No, it's not," Lisa said. "It's pathetic. I decided ages ago I was done sitting around feeling sorry for myself. That's why I started looking for your mother. That's why I've done all of this; I want another chance to have what I used to have. I want my old friend back. Please don't tell her what I said. It's all water under the bridge now and I wouldn't hurt Renee for the world."

"Sure," Cassie said, but she choked down the rest of her quiche as quickly as she could. All she wanted was to be alone.



"You can't come now," Lisa said. "You'll have to wait until later."

Cassie halted on the bottom step of the stairs, her hand resting on the wooden banister, not wanting to barge into the kitchen and interrupt Lisa's conversation. She was still groggy from a restless night. She'd barely slept; instead replaying Lisa's words over and over again in her mind for hours. She thought she'd known all there was to know about the night of her conception. Her mother had told her how she'd met her father, how she'd fallen in love. Well, maybe not love, Cassie conceded, maybe that was too strong a word, but her mother had been instantly attracted to her father. She'd been swept away.

Lisa's words turned it all into a lie. If her mother hadn't even liked Rob, then why would she go off with him?

Cassie had tossed and turned, and as the sky had darkened, her anger had turned to fear. What was she thinking, not telling her mother what had happened in the woods? People knew her - dangerous people. Stan even knew where she lived. The window was open and a slight breeze played with the curtains, wafting the dank, salty smell of the ocean into the room. As the house quieted around her, she heard leaves rustle outside in the breeze and other unfamiliar noises that left her holding her breath. Was someone in the meadow? She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped the sheet around her tightly. Were they outside right now? Was her father...was that a footstep coming up the path?

She had huddled there for what seemed like hours, too afraid to cross the room and close the window, too afraid to stay where she was and fall asleep. Then suddenly she'd awoken in a tangle of sheets, sunshine streaming over her bed, the blue sky outside belying all her fears.

Now she felt exhausted and her head was as thick as if she were coming down with a cold. A faucet turned on and off in the kitchen, breaking into her reverie, and she heard Lisa set the kettle on the stove with a thump.

"Make it ten. No, ten-thirty." The woman listened a moment, then added, "I know you want...Cassie, are you out there?"

Cassie sprang forward guiltily and stuck her head around the entrance to the kitchen.

"I have to go," Lisa said into the phone and clicked it off. She placed it down on the counter. "How are you feeling today?" she asked cheerfully and turned back to the sink.

"Who was that?"

"Just a friend," Lisa said. "They need to pick something up, but I don't want them coming by early and waking up your mom."

"They know about us?"

"Don't worry, I didn't spill your secrets. Sit down and eat."

"How's Mom doing?" Cassie asked as she crossed to the table. She looked at Lisa out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her mood. Was she going to turn all crazy again?

"Still in a lot of pain, but I think her ribs are healing. She'll spend the day in bed. So, the question is," Lisa folded her arms over her chest, "what are we going to do with you today?"

"I'll just hang around and read, I guess." And figure out how to rob a bank or something, so we have enough money to get out of here.

Lisa sighed. "Cassie," she said gently. "I know your mom keeps you close to home, but you're a big girl now. Old enough to have a few adventures of your own."



"Mom keeps me close to home because she's afraid my father is going to kill me," Cassie said flatly.

"Do you actually believe that fairy-tale?" Lisa picked up a dishcloth and began putting the previous night's dishes away.

Cassie frowned. "Of course I do." She watched Lisa cross back and forth from the dish rack to the cupboard.

"You';ve been on the run for what, nine years now?" Lisa paused by the sink and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. So?"

"And you keep moving, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"How do you know when your dad has found you?"

"Mom knows," Cassie said stubbornly. "She figures it out. We get a phone call when no one has our number, or people drop by pretending to want to talk about religion."

Lisa placed a glass carefully on a shelf. "You know, I get people calling my number by accident and stopping by to talk about religion."

"Of course; everybody does," Cassie said huffily. "That's why he does it that way - so we won't have any idea it"s him! We'll just think it's normal."

"But your mom doesn't think it's normal," Lisa said, in the kind of soft voice one uses to reason with the insane. "She thinks it's your dad."

"That's why he's never caught us; she doesn't fall for his tricks," Cassie insisted. But she knew what Lisa was saying; it sounded ridiculous. She had thought so for years.

"Listen," Lisa said, holding out her empty hands. "I'm not trying to make you upset. I'm just trying to make a point. Your mom told me all about this, how you've been sneaking around and moving from place to place. No wonder I couldn't ever find you." She dropped her hands to her side. "But here's the thing, honey. Your dad's not after you; he never was. He wasn't even a suspect in your grandparents' murders."

"That's not true. I saw his name in the paper," Cassie said. "I'm not stupid, you know, I looked it up at the library."

"They looked for Rob because your mother insisted. She kept bugging the police until they agreed to bring him in for questioning and why wouldn't they; they didn't have any other leads. But in the end they couldn't question him, because he wasn't there; he hadn't been at the lake in six years, Cassie. They had to let it drop."

"She found his ring..."

"His ring?" Lisa interrupted. "Did she ever show it to you?"

"No," Cassie admitted.

"It's a plain, gold band, like a wedding ring," Lisa said. "It could have been anyone's."

"But she said..."

"Your mom doesn't know what she's saying, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Lisa cut in. "Have you seen her? She's a wreck. And I'll bet she's been a wreck for a long, long time."

"Why would she make up something like that?" Cassie demanded. A roaring sound had started in her ears. It was as if Lisa had reached into her heart and pulled out all of her secret misgivings. She'd questioned for ages if her mother's stories were true, if they were running from a man or just from her mother's fears, but to have someone else voice these doubts was almost more than Cassie could bear.

Lisa made a disbelieving noise. "Because she's been through hell. Do you have any idea what it was like for your mother to realize she was pregnant after your father ditched her? She was eighteen - only three years older than you - and your grandparents were furious. They drove her away. She had to put herself through school, work and raise you all on her own, and when she finally went back to try to make amends with them, they were murdered while she hid upstairs in her old bedroom closet."

Cassie fought a brief flash - opening the screen door to her grandparents' house, her mother kneeling on the floor over two bodies, screaming. She blinked it away.

"She was pushed to the edge," Lisa said. "It was all too much."

"It was not too much," Cassie said, fighting against this revision of her history. "She's handled all of it. Better than you could have."

Lisa softened. "I have no doubt about that. But you don't know what it's like being a woman alone. How stressful it is not to have any help. To have a child, as well..."

"She loves being a single parent," Cassie said, standing up. She didn't have to listen to this.

"Give me a break, Cassandra; no one loves being a single parent," Lisa shot back.

"My name's not Cassandra," Cassie said defiantly, but the woman's words cut her to the quick; Lisa was right - their story was crazy.

Unless it was true, Cassie thought; then it made all the sense in the world.



"I'm not trying to hurt you, honey," Lisa said. "I just think your mother lost her way somewhere along the line and we need to bring her back; we need to help her understand what's real and what's not."

Cassie closed her eyes. "If that's true, then who killed my grandparents?"

"Probably someone looking for money. They must have thought the house was empty when they came in. That's what the police said, anyway."

Cassie found it hard to draw a breath; that was just what she'd thought, just what she had always thought.

"We've been running for nothing? Is that what you're saying?" she made herself ask.

"Oh, baby," Lisa said. "I am so, so sorry."

Cassie steadied herself against the table. She'd known it would come to an end someday - the fear and the packing and the midnight rides in the van. But now that it was here, she felt strangely blank. They'd been fugitives forever; that's what they were.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Lisa nodded.

Suddenly a fury so thick it choked her surged up into Cassie's throat. "How could she do that?" she cried. "How could she make me believe it if it wasn't true?"

"Shhh," Lisa said. "She believed it, that's how. But now you're here and it's over. I'm going to help her. You and I will both help her." She picked something up off the floor - a yellow backpack - and held it out to Cassie. Cassie took it automatically.

"She lied all this time?" she said, blinking back angry tears. "All these years...?"

"There's a lunch and some water in there," Lisa said. "I drew you a map to the beach." She handed Cassie a piece of paper. "I think you need to get out of the house this morning, you've had a horrible shock. Sunshine and exercise - that's the best thing now."

"I hate her," Cassie cried, feeling like she might throw up. "I hate..."

Lisa grabbed her shoulders and leaned in close. "Stop sniveling like a baby and pull yourself together; you're not the first one whose life has taken an ugly turn."

Cassie gaped, speechless, as Lisa pushed her out of the kitchen.

"The past is over," Lisa said, glancing at the clock as they left the room. She swung the front door open. "Stop reveling in it and get out of here. Go on - get going; it's a beautiful day."



Cassie stumbled down a street lined with bungalows painted pastel shades of coral, pink and blue. They sat in tiny, immaculate yards graced with palm trees or vines of scarlet flowers. She clutched Lisa's map in sweaty fingers, but walked blindly, turning one corner and then another, not caring where she went.

Was it true, what Lisa said? Had they been running from nothing - from delusions? Had it all been a lie?

The memories crowded into her mind again; the voices arguing in the woods the day her grandparents were killed. What had they said?

"You'll die if you don't!"

"You'll kill me if I do!"

It made no sense, but she had been running then, the leaves dry beneath her feet as she dashed home from the clearing. Then her hand on the worn knob of a screen door at shoulder-height. Inside, the bodies splayed out on the floor, her mother bending over them, shielding them from Cassie's eyes.

Screaming, screaming, and blood on the floor.

Cassie shook herself and stopped, staring up at a streetsign. Seventh Avenue. Wasn't that on Lisa's map?

She opened it dully and traced the route. Nine years. Nine years. The words rang in her head with each step she took. She had wasted her entire life running and hiding and living in fear. She had suspected it for ages, but it took a stupid fat woman with a grudge to set her free. Cassie laughed to keep from crying. A stupid, fat joke of a woman.

Maybe she's wrong.

No. She could feel the truth of it in her bones. Two bad things had happened six years apart, and Renee had combined them in her brain, making Rob the villain of both.

If he wasn't a killer...

Cassie stopped short, thinking that through. If Rob wasn't a killer, what was he? Just a man who'd had a fling and not stopped to find out the consequences of his actions?

Does he even know I exist?

Probably not.




She started up again, more slowly this time, trailing down the sidewalk in a haze of confused thoughts. She could find him, maybe. Track him down. My father.

A glimpse of the ocean brought her back to herself. The street forked ahead of her, each side curving outward to parallel the water. Dead ahead, the beach was thronged with tourists. Cars lined the street disgorging passengers laden down with coolers and lawn chairs. She surveyed the crowds in dismay, wanting nothing more than to dart back home and hide in her room, but the thought of facing Lisa again didn't appeal to her, either.

This is your life now, she told herself firmly. No more hiding; you're just like everyone else. She entered the bathhouse and opened the yellow backpack, finding a towel and a slightly squashed bag lunch. Then she lifted out a blue paisley bikini by a thin shoulder strap. It wasn’t hers. Her fingers brushed something stiff and she turned the suit over. A note was safety-pinned to it, the paper worn and the ink faded. Return to Renee, she read. How long had Lisa had it? Since the day Renee had met Jason in the woods when she went looking for Rob?

Cassie changed into the suit and found it fit well enough. She felt naked in the skimpy two-piece, but a quick look around the changing room told her she'd fit right in. As a finishing touch, she pulled out her pony-tail holder and shook her hair free. There - now I’m normal, she thought, with a laugh that was closer to a sob.

She threaded her way through the tourists down to an empty spot near the water. The bronzed bodies all around her made her acutely aware of her own pasty white skin and she spread her towel on the sand and sat down, hugging her legs to her chest. Now what? Her life spread out before her as blank and flat as the sand on the beach.

Now nothing. She didn't know what she and her mother would do. She didn't even want to think about it.

Cassie leaped up again and made her way to the water's edge. All around her people were playing in the surf, bobbing up and down as the waves washed past them, or skidding on boogie boards and crashing onto the sand. That's what she'd do; she'd go for a swim. She walked into the water, but raced right back out again, shocked at its icy coldness. Now she saw that most of the swimmers wore short-sleeved wetsuits. The ones who didn'' kept close to shore.

She gave up on swimming and wandered slowly along the edge of the ocean until she found herself on the fringes of a frisbee game. Seven or eight teenagers, mostly boys, were taking turns sending a day-glo orange disc spinning through the air. Cassie paused to watch as a blond boy leaped up and caught the frisbee easily, throwing it almost before his feet touched the ground. The move was impressive, but his throw went wild and the disc landed at her feet. Cassie bent to grab it just as another boy dove in front of her, sending sand spraying. He jumped up, the frisbee in his hands, and smiled at Cassie.

"Sorry, didn't see you there. Want to join us?"



"Sure," Cassie said gratefully, smiling back at him, but as she stood at the edge of the group her uneasiness quickly returned; she didn't know how to throw a frisbee.

The boy flung it toward the opposite side of the circle with a practiced flick of his wrist. "I'm Mark," he said and held out his hand.

"Cassie."

While they spoke, the other players tossed the frisbee back and forth. A boy across the circle caught it, paused and sent it flying straight at her. Cassie put her hands up instinctively and shut her eyes. It bounced off her forearms and fell to the ground.

"That's okay," Mark said, picking it up and holding it out toward her. "Here. Just toss it to anyone."

She took the frisbee reluctantly and curled her arm toward her chest the way the others had done, aware they were waiting impatiently for her to get on with it. She flung out her arm and the frisbee flew in a short, wobbly arc, fell to the sand and rolled to a stop in the center of the circle of teenagers.

"Don't worry about it, try again," Mark said, darting into the ring to retrieve the frisbee. He handed it back to her and she took it with shaking hands. "Come on; good throw this time."

She flung it harder this time. The disc careened sideways and smacked the forehead of a willowy, bikini-clad girl. She shrieked and fell to her knees.

The others rushed to help her, but Cassie stood frozen, horrified by what she'd done.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, crimson with embarrassment. "I"m really sorry."

No one was paying attention to her. Even Mark had joined the crowd around the injured girl.

"You're bleeding, Taylor!" someone said.

"Ow! Don't!" the girl in the bikini cried, as another girl tried to dab at her forehead with the corner of a beach towel.

"The lifeguard will have a first-aid kit," Mark said. "Come on, Taylor. Can you walk?"

The group of teens turned as one in the direction of an elevated chair where a young man in red swim shorts sat scanning the water with a pair of binoculars.

Cassie watched them go helplessly. So much for being normal. I can't even throw a frisbee without maiming someone.

Mark swung the pretty girl up into his arms; he had obviously forgotten all about her in his new role as rescuer. Cassie didn't try to follow them. Instead, she turned and walked back to her own towel, plunked down on it gracelessly and pulled out the lunch that Lisa had packed. I'm such a loser. I'll never have any friends.

She chewed her peanut butter sandwich without tasting it, wondering what was happening back at the house. Was Lisa telling her mother the same things she'd told her this morning? What would her mother say if she was?

She'll deny everything, Cassie decided. She'll be mad, too.

She couldn't help envying the people around her. They were soaking up the sunshine, digging holes in the sand and eating elaborate picnic lunches. They were happy.

There must be a thousand people on this beach, Cassie thought.

She'd never felt so alone.