Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for

profit.

"One Word"

By SL Haas

(Copyright January 1998 Revised June 1999)

SPRING 1996

"I'm sorry, Ray, but you didn't have to follow me."

"Oh, yes I did. There's no telling what kinda trouble you would've gotten yourself into if I wasn't there to stop you." Ray continued to dab at the stains spreading across his brownish grey Armani suit. He scowled with the realization that yet another suit had met defeat at the hands of the Mountie. "Do you have any idea how many suits of mine you've ruined?"

"I'm afraid not, Ray."

"Too many! That's how many! You've practically devastated my wardrobe with your little adventures."

"But..."

"No buts, Benny. Every time I help you with something I end up covered with dirt, or maggots, or..." Ray scrubbed at a particularly vivid stain, "...rotting food. Why do you do this to me?"

Ben never had a chance to reply.

"Vecchio, my office. Now." Lt. Welsh's stentorian voice carried across the bullpen to the duo at Ray's desk.

Ray's head shot up and his hands stilled. "Right away, sir."

Welsh regarded the two men then motioned for Fraser to follow Ray. "Bring the Mountie with you."

Ray's eyebrows shot up as Ben joined him. As they approached Welsh's office Ray asked sotto voce, "Any idea what's up?"

"He's your superior officer, Ray."

The two men came to a halt in front of Welsh's desk. "Get the door, Vecchio." Welsh waited while the door closed.

"Gentlemen," Welsh tapped an opened file on his desk. "I've been asked to assign you to a special case."

Ray's eyes widened. "Us, sir?"

"Yes, you and Constable Fraser."

Ray glanced sideways at his unofficial partner. "How's that possible, sir? Fraser's not under your command."

"True, but I've been in contact with..." Welsh searched his desk, retrieving a memo pad. Referring to it, Welsh glanced up at the two men. " I've been in contact with Inspector Margaret Thatcher. I believe you know her."

"Yes, sir. Inspector Thatcher is my commanding officer," Ben answered.

"Since this case involves a Canadian citizen, your Inspector agreed to this request."

"Request, sir?" Ray was puzzled.

"We've had a request for police protection for..." Welsh shuffled several papers in the open file. "Ah, here it is. For a Ms. Cassandra Hope."

"Cassandra Hope?" Now why did that name seem familiar to Ray?

"Yes, someone's been stalking her for some time. The threats have escalated recently with her proposed visit to our city." Welsh propped his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on his entwined fingers.

"You mean you want us to baby-sit this Hope woman? What kinda case is that?" He shook his head in utter disbelief.

"It's the kind I've assigned you to, Detective." Welsh's tone of voice invited no discussion.

Unfortunately, Ray was not the type to leave things as they were. "But we're not baby-sitters. Why don't you assign it to someone who does that kinda thing?" The nasal nature of the whine increased with each word.

"This assignment comes from higher up, Vecchio." Welsh shook his head. "Evidently Ms. Hope asked for you and the Constable here by name."

"Ms. Hope asked for us by name?" Ben queried.

Welsh nodded his head. Strange as it had seemed, the request had specifically asked for Detective Raymond Vecchio and Constable Benton Fraser. He sighed. The notoriety of this unconventional partnership was getting around. But, what the hell, ever since Vecchio had teamed with Big Red more of his cases were being solved. His eyes traveled over the incongruous pair standing before him. Fraser stood at attention while Ray slouched as only Ray could.

"Yes, sir."

"I strongly suggest you go home and change..." Welsh wrinkled his nose, "...into something less pungent."

"Uh, yes, sir. I'm on my way, sir." Ray spun on his heels and headed out of the office snagging Fraser as he passed him.

"Vecchio."

Startled, Ray stopped and turned back to his Lieutenant. "Yes, sir?"

"You might need this." Welsh closed the folder and handed it to Ray.

"Thank you, sir. Will that be all?" Welsh nodded his head and motioned for Ray and Ben to proceed.

"Here, Benny. See what you can make of this."

The folder slapped into Ben's red serge clad chest. Ben grasped the folder before it could flutter to the floor.

Ray crossed the bullpen and slipped into his chair. Leaning back, he watched Ben open the folder and read the materials as he threaded his way through the ebb and flow of detectives, suspects, and the other odd assortment of people currently inhabiting the bullpen.

Ben settled into his usual chair and continued to peruse the file. Lifting his eyes from the file, he spoke quietly, "This is very interesting, Ray."

"What's so interesting about a babysitting job?" Sarcasm dripped from each word.

"This Cassandra Hope is a rather well known romance novelist."

"Romance novelist? As in gag-me-with-a-stick romance novelist?" The timbre of Ray's voice rose an octave. "She's probably one of those old maids who take out their sexual fantasies on an unsuspecting public. I tell ya, Benny, there ought to be a law against it." Ray buried his face in his hands before mumbling, "Why me, dammit? Why me?"

Ben smiled at his friend and turned back to the file. He flipped through several threatening notes--each one more alarming in its contents. The final piece of information included in the file was a 5x7 photo of the author. Ben turned it over, shocked at the face that stared up at him.

He closed the file with a snap and laid it on Ray's desk. Half-smiling to himself, he nodded then added, for good effect, "Hmmm...."

Ray tilted his head up just enough to regard the Mountie. Fraser never 'hmmmed' unless he was up to something and right now, Ray was in no mood for one of Benny's long winded explanations. "Okay, Fraser. Spill it."

"Spill what, Ray?"

"Something in that file has piqued your interest and I want to know what it is." He absently reached for the file folder then thought better of it. Instead he rubbed his eyes and sighed, "Okay, just tell me the pertinent points of the case." He screwed up his face as he said it, quite confident that there was no case.

"Well, Ray. It seems that Ms. Hope has become the object of someone's obsession." Ben picked up the file and pulled out several of the letters. Laying them on the desk for Ray's benefit, he continued, "Evidently this 'fan' believes that Ms. Hope is in love with him."

"Him? How do you know it's a him?"

Ben pointed to the middle letter. "His description of what he plans to do to Ms. Hope is quite graphic. And, given a basic knowledge of anatomy, Ray, I think it's physically impossible for a woman to do those things."

Ray read the letter through then read it a second time. "I see what ya mean, Benny. This is one sicko pervert." He brightened. "This might just turn into an interesting case after all." He stood and motioned for Ben to follow.

Ben climbed to his feet and smiled at the retreating back of his friend. "I think you'd be safe in saying that, Ray."

* * *

"Okay, Benny. What else can you tell me about this pervert?" Ray backed the Riv out of his parking space and zoomed out of the parking lot. Making a quick decision, he sped across two lanes of traffic before making an abrupt left turn. His maneuver was marked by an assortment of honks and tire squeals.

"I believe that light was red, Ray." Well acquainted with Ray's method of driving, Ben grasped the dashboard and braced his other arm on the car door.

Ray glanced over his shoulder before answering, "Nah, it was yellow when I started through and you know what yellow means."

"I believe the driver's manual for the state of Illinois states that yellow stands for 'caution'."

"Nah, it means 'hurry up and speed through 'cause the red light's a-coming and ya don't wanna get stuck here'."

"Ray, I am almost certain that a yellow light does not stand for that." Ben's head snapped around, "That was a stop sign, Ray."

"Where?"

"Back there. The same stop sign you always seem to miss."

"Can't be. How could I possibly miss something as obvious as a stop sign?"

"Obviously, it must be quite easy, Ray. You just missed that one as well."

"Really, imagine that." Ray grinned with pleasure. Once he'd gotten used to Ben's habit of pointing out each and every little traffic infraction, Ray had made a point of seeing just how many he could get away with before Ben stopped reminding him of them. Trying to put him off guard, Ray whined, "Now can we get back to this pervert?"

Ben sighed. If Ray hadn't been such a good driver, he would have refused to ride with him anywhere. As it was, it seemed that Ray delighted in antagonizing him by violating as many traffic laws as possible. Sometimes Ben wondered if Ray was playing with him. He glanced sideways at Ray's profile noting the slight smile on Ray's face. He wouldn't, would he?

"The case, Benny?" Ray prompted.

"Oh, yes, Ray. The 'pervert' has stalked Ms. Hope for over a year now. He broke into her home and..." The rest came out in a mumble.

"What was that, Benny?" Ben mumbled again. Ray glanced at his unofficial partner. Ben's coloring matched the brightness of his dress uniform. Curiosity in full sway, Ray pulled into the driveway of his house. Turning off the engine, he swiveled on the seat to face the rosy-cheeked Mountie. "Benny, dammit, quit mumbling. This pervert broke into her home and did what?"

Ben stared at his hands noticing how he clenched and unclenched his fingers around the file folder. "He uh...he..." Raising embarrassed eyes to Ray, the words rushed from him, "He masturbated on her bed."

"He did what?"

"He also left a dozen dead roses and a copy of 'The Joy of Sex.'" Ben thoughts flashed back to the photo of Cassandra Hope--the photo in the file of the woman being stalked by this pervert. Even if he had not recognized the woman he would still be anxious to help in any way he could. No one deserved that kind of attention from anyone and certainly not the woman in the photo.

Ray climbed out of the Riv and waited while Ben retrieved his Stetson from the dashboard and followed him into the Vecchio residence. Ray headed up the stairs, shedding his soiled suit as he went. By the time he reached his bedroom he was down to his slacks and shoes.

He nodded toward the chair by the window. "Take a seat, Benny. I'll be with you in just a moment." He pulled off his shoes and socks as Ben settled into the indicated chair. Shucking his slacks, he stared at the large stain across the seat of the slacks. Sighing heavily, he tossed the pair into the corner by the dresser then rummaged through his closet for a clean suit.

Ben cleared his throat. "Ray?"

Ray glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"Don't you think it would be advisable for you to take a shower before putting on a clean suit?"

Ray backed out of the closet. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you are a bit on the odoriferous side."

"Yeah, and just whose fault is that? It's not like you couldn't find a better place to crawl around in besides the city dump!" Ray sighed deeply then carefully smelled first one arm then the other before wrinkling his nose. "I can see your point, Benny. I'll be right back."

True to his word, Ray returned in short order, a large green and grey striped towel draped around his waist. He quickly donned a clean light grey suit over a black turtleneck sweater. "How's that?" Shaking his head, he muttered, "Why am I asking you? Your idea of well dressed has too much red to suit me."

"Much better, Ray. I don't think you'll offend Ms. Lassiter now."

"Lassiter? I thought we were babysitting a Ms. Hope." Ray snapped his fingers and came to stand over the seated Mountie. "Cassandra Hope. I knew I'd heard that name before. You remember last fall when we stayed at the Edge of the Earth?" Ben nodded his head. "You were sick and I read to you. One of the books we started was a fucking romance by Cassandra Hope." Ray neglected to tell Ben that he had finished the book while he slept.

"I remember, Ray." Ben smiled to himself. There were other things he remembered as well.

"Cassandra Hope. Imagine that." Ray shook his head and grabbed his suit jacket. "That doesn't explain about this Lassiter dame. Why are we meeting her?" Ray led the way back down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Ms. Lassiter is Cassandra Hope's agent."

"Cassandra Hope? You know Cassandra Hope?" Frannie turned from the counter where multitudes of sandwich fixings were arranged.

"No, we don't know no Cassandra Hope," Ray hastily said.

Ben ran a finger along the inside of his tunic collar. His cheeks again assumed a rosy tint. He knew exactly who inhabited Frannie's dreams. He momentarily flashed back to that evening last year when Frannie showed up in his apartment in what could only be described as less than requisite attire. That was definitely a situation he did not wish to revisit.

Barely pausing for breath, Frannie continued, "Didja know she's in town for a book signing? What I wouldn't give for an autographed copy of her new book. It's about this woman who meets two strangers in the middle of the mountains. They turn out to be a cop and a Mountie..." Again those eyes bored into Ben's. "The woman falls in love with the cop. Not me, no siree. She can have the cop. I'll take the Mountie any day." Ben's rosy hue deepened and he stumbled back a step.

Ray had had enough. "Frannie? Is there some purpose to all of this?"

"Perhaps you should get an autographed copy of this book for Francesca, Ray," Ben suggested.

"Now how could Mr. Tightwad do that, Benton?"

"We've been assigned to..."

"He didn't mean anything, Frannie," Ray butted in.

Frannie glared at her brother. Her feminine intuition told her that something was going on. Carefully placing the knife back on the counter top, she stalked across the kitchen until she faced Ray. "What are you not telling me, Ray?"

Ray strategically withdrew a step. "Nothing that concerns you. It's police business."

One well-manicured fingernail embedded itself in Ray's chest. "Are you lying to me, Ray? 'Cause if you are I'll tell Benton about you and Lucia Cavelli's underwear..."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Ray sputtered.

"In a pig's eye, brother dearest."

Ray sat down at the kitchen table and rested his forehead on its cloth-covered surface. "Why me, Lord? Why me?"

"I'm waiting, Ray." Frannie's foot beat a rapid tempo on the tile of the kitchen floor.

Ray sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Fraser and I've been assigned to provide security for your Cassandra Hope while she's here in Chicago."

Frannie's face lit with anticipation as she untied her apron. "If you'll wait just a moment, I can be ready to go in no time flat."

"Hold on, Frannie. You are not coming with us!"

"Are you kidding? Of course, I'm coming with you. This could be my only chance to meet Cassandra Hope and there's no way I'm gonna let you weasel out of taking me. So just sit there and I'll be right back." Frannie hurled herself out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

Reminiscent of a rocket launching, Ray shot to his feet and bustled Ben from the kitchen and out of the house. Moments later, the Riv sped away from the Vecchio residence. "That was close, Benny. Way too close."

Ben glanced over at Ray. "Um, Ray? Won't Francesca be upset with you?"

"That's better than having to explain to Lt. Welsh why Frannie tagged along on police business. I'll get her a copy of that book. That should satisfy her."

Ben shook his head. His experience of the volatile Francesca Vecchio told him different. Ray was in deep trouble with his sister. He didn't think a book would be enough to stem the wrath of Frannie. He shuddered and momentarily felt sorry for his friend. Frannie was definitely different from his own sister, Becka. Of that, Ben was very thankful. An amused twinkle glinted in his eye

as he turned to address his friend. "Lucia Cavelli's underwear?"

"You don't wanna know, Benny. You don't wanna know."

* * *

"Pardon. Sorry. Excuse us." Ben distributed the apologies in Ray's wake.

Reaching the door of the bookstore, Ray was finally stopped cold. A tall, well-built man put an arm out and blocked his progress. "I'm sorry, sir, but the bookstore is not open yet."

"What do ya mean you're not open?" Ray glanced at his watch. "It's 2:00. Of course you're open." Ray tried to push past the gentleman standing guard at the door.

The arm once more barred his way. "I'm sorry, sir, but the store won't open until 3:00 for the book signing by Cassandra Hope."

Ray tapped his foot impatiently. "I know that. That's why we're here."

"That's why everyone else is here, sir. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to take your place at the end of the line and wait your turn to see Ms. Hope."

"We're not here to see Ms. Hope," Ray snarled at the man.

"To be honest, Ray. We are here to see Ms. Hope." Ben corrected his friend.

Ray glanced over his shoulder. "Not now, Fraser." He turned back to the man at the door. "Are you gonna let us in?"

"No."

"Perhaps if you explained who we are," Ben suggested.

Exhaling deeply, Ray pulled his badge from his pocket and shoved it in the man's face. "We're here to see Ms. Hope. Are you gonna let us in or do I have to get rough?"

Ben slipped past Ray and addressed the man. "We're here to provide security for Ms. Hope's appearance."

The man studied the two men before him. He'd been told to expect a loud mouthed Italian detective and a polite Canadian Mountie. It looked like these two fit the description. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked as he opened the door allowing Ray and Ben access to

the store's interior. Frowning slightly, he carefully watched the two men as they made their way toward the center of the store.

"See, Ray. It only takes a little extra effort to be polite."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's easy for you to say." Ray scanned the store looking for someone, anyone with whom to continue his argument. He was not disappointed.

A tall, dark-skinned woman wearing tortoiseshell glasses beetled toward the duo. Ray caught sight of her and whispered to Ben, "Betcha anything that's Cassandra Hope."

"Ray, Ray, Ray..." Ben got no further.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" The woman raked them with her shifty eyes.

"Yeah, we're here to see Cassandra Hope," Ray drawled.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. You'll have to wait until the official time of the signing."

"Excuse me," Ben interrupted, "are you Ms. Florence Lassiter?"

"Ms. Lassiter?" Ray glanced sideways at Ben. So this 'old maid spinster' type woman wasn't Cassandra Hope.

"Why, yes I am." She stared transfixed at Ben before smoothing the lapel of her blue pinstriped jacket.

"Then we're actually here to see you."

"Oh my." Ms. Lassiter fanned herself. The Mountie was certainly pleasing to look at and to think they were looking for her. Mountie? She turned questioning eyes on the other man. "Are you Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We are."

Ms. Lassiter extended her hand. "I'm Florence Lassiter, Ms. Hope's agent." Ray then Ben shook her hand.

"May we see Ms. Hope?" Ben asked.

"Of course you may. You understand what we need of you? I don't want anything to happen to her while she's here in Chicago. You'll see to that, won't you?" Genuine concern flavored her voice.

"We'll do the best we can, Ms. Lassiter," Ray assured the woman.

"Good. If you'll follow me, Ms. Hope's in the back." They followed the woman past a large display of books and a burgundy draped table with additional books upon it.

Ray nudged Ben and indicated one of the books. "See...that's that guy that does the butter commercials."

"I believe his name is Fabio, Ray," Ben stated matter-of-factly.

Ray gave Ben a 'you've gotta be kidding' look then followed Ms. Lassiter toward the rear of the store. Passing through a pair of double doors, they watched Ms. Lassiter approach a blonde woman who stood with her back to them. The woman leaned over a table covered with books and papers. A man in a navy suit stood on the other side of the table.

"What is it, Flo?" the blonde woman ask. A shiver sent goosebumps across Ray's skin. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

Flo placed a hand on the woman's arm. "The police are finally here, Casey."

The woman turned to greet Ray and Ben. She smiled and extended her hand. "It's been awhile, Ray, Ben. How are you?" Rooted to the spot, Ray felt his mouth drop open.

"I'm fine, thank you kindly," Ben answered as he shook the proffered hand.

Casey smiled. "Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. I thought you were over that, Ben." He smiled at the shared memories.

Casey turned to Ray who still had not moved or spoken. "Well, Ray. Aren't you going to say something?"

Ray stared at the woman who had haunted his dreams since last fall. "Casey? What in hell are you doing here?" he spoke in a near whisper.

Casey grinned. "It's good to see you, too, Ray."

"I take it you know these two gentlemen, Casey?" Flo Lassiter asked.

Casey grinned at her agent. "I pulled them from the river. You did read my latest book, didn't you?"

"The cop and the Mountie?" Flo studied the two men. "I thought you made that story up."

"Parts of it but...a lot of it was based on fact."

Ray found his voice again. "Casey?"

"Yes, Ray?" Before she could react, Casey was swept into an embrace.

Ray held Casey close to him. He stared down into the storm grey eyes that had touched his heart like no other woman. He felt her arms slip around him and hug back. "Casey, what in hell are you doing here?" he asked once more before kissing the lips raised to him.

Months of loneliness and yearning went into that kiss. They reluctantly drew apart after a discreet cough reminded them they were not alone. Casey stepped back and smoothed down the front of her jade green suit. She ran a hand over her hair glad to note that her French roll was still in place. "Ray, I'm here for a book signing. I thought you knew that."

Ben cleared his throat. "Actually, Casey, Ray was too busy complaining about this assignment to notice your photo in the case file."

"There was a photo in the file?" Exasperation tinged Ray's voice as he turned startled eyes on his friend. "Why didn't you tell me?" He turned accusing eyes on Casey. "You're Cassandra Hope? The Cassandra Hope?"

"Yes, Ray." She smiled as the disbelief on Ray's face changed to one of comprehension.

"You mean, all those times you were working on your computer you were actually writing a love story?"

"Yes, Ray."

"Why didn't you say so? Why'd I have to learn it like this?"

"Well, Ray. You made it abundantly clear what you thought of romances when we were at Edge of the Earth," Ben gently reminded him.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew who Cassandra Hope was." Ray turned his attention back to Casey. "Okay, why the different name?"

"Cassandra Hope is my penname, Ray. It's a combination of my middle name, Cassandra, and my maiden name, Hope. So it really is me, so to speak."

"Oh." Ray paused, then continued, "So your real name is Casey Cassandra Sinclair?"

Casey grinned. She hadn't realized how much she'd enjoyed sparring with Ray until he was no longer there to argue with. "No, Ray. That's not my real name either."

"It's not? Then what the hell is your name?" Ray enjoyed these sparring matches with Casey almost as much as she did.

"My married name is Kaitlin Cassandra Sinclair. I told you that. My nickname is Casey. K-C as in Kaitlin Cassandra."

Ray grinned and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. Kaitlin Cassandra Casey Hope Sinclair. Did I get it all?"

Casey threw her head back and laughed softly. "Yes, Ray. I think you covered all the bases with that one." She grinned at the two men then leaned against the table behind her. "I'm so glad you two were able to handle my little problem."

"Little problem? Little problem? How long has this pervert been bothering you?" Ray's voice climbed.

Casey turned away from her two friends and shuffled the papers on the table. Her little problem had followed her for over a year. At first, she had paid little heed to the strange notes, but when they had turned threatening...

Casey sighed. That was something she'd rather not contemplate.

"I hate to interrupt your reunion, Casey, but we need to get ready for your appearance." Flo hovered in the background. She could now understand why Casey insisted on these two policemen for her security. Friends tended to take care of each other and she was certain these two men would make sure nothing happened to Casey while she was in Chicago.

"Thanks, Flo." She turned back to the duo. "Do you have a description of this person?"

"We have a sketchy description from the police file. Can you add anything to it?" Ben answered for both of them.

She shrugged. "I'm afraid not. How do you plan on watching over things?"

Ray took Casey's hands in his and gently squeezed them. "I'll stay close to you and Benny can watch the front door. Are there any other entrances to the store?"

"There's the freight entrance." The gentleman in the navy suit joined them on their side of the table. He extended his hand. "I'm Art Thurman, the store manager. I assume you're the police?"

Ray shook Thurman's hand. "I'm Detective Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD, and this is Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. We were asked to provide security for Ms. Hope."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm glad you're here. We don't want anything untoward happening at this event. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You said there was another entrance to the store?"

"Yes, here in the rear. It's the freight entrance. Is that a problem?"

"We will need to have this door covered as well." Ben thought for a moment then made a request. "If we could borrow the gentleman currently handling the front door to watch this one, I think we would be ready for any contingency."

"Steve Blanding? He's one of my newer employees." Thurman headed toward the double door to the main portion of the store. "I'll see if he's willing to help you." He returned shortly with the news that Blanding would be happy to watch the rear entrance.

Thurman did not see the smile that crossed Blanding's face as he retreated back into the store.

* * *

The last book was signed...the last hand shaken...the last photo taken. Casey leaned back in the chair and massaged the back of her neck. She started when a pair of hands replaced hers and massaged the knots in her neck and shoulders. "Thank you kindly, Ray. Umm...that feels good." Her eyes closed in pleasure.

"Um...excuse me."

Casey's eyes flew open. She smiled and straightened in her chair. Ray's hands dropped to his sides. Casey reached for another book and glanced inquiringly at the young man towering over her. "In whose name should I make this? Is there a special message you'd like?" She smiled up at the young man.

The young man smiled back. "Yes. Could you write: To my beloved Trevor, that's T-R-E-V-O-R, the most wonderful, handsome, intelligent..." The young man paused, searching for additional descriptors.

Casey supplied a few of her own. "Modest, humble, demure..." Her eyes filled with a wicked humor. "...arrogant pain-in-the-butt sweetheart in the whole world. Love...?"

Trevor squirmed under Casey's direct gaze. "Could you make that Love, Cassandra? It sounds so much better than Love, Mom."

Casey laughed and quickly dashed a note onto the frontispiece of the book that she held. Closing the cover, she handed the book to Ray. "For your sister, Ray." She stood and met Trevor as he came around the table. The two hugged then turned to Ray.

"Ray, I'd like you to meet the most important man in my life. This is my son, Trevor."

Ray shifted the book to his other arm then shook the hand extended to him all the while studying the young man. Tall with wavy brown hair, Trevor had inherited Casey's grey eyes. Those eyes were now trained on him.

"Ray? As in the infamous Ray Vecchio?"

"You've heard of me?" Ray was surprised.

Trevor rolled his eyes. "I feel like I know you and your friend, Ben Fraser."

"Yes?" Ben quietly joined the group by the burgundy-draped table. He had observed the hug shared by Casey and the young man.

"Ben, this is my son, Trevor."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Trevor shook Ben's hand.

"Hey, now. How come he rates a 'sir' and all I get is a 'Ray'?" Ray imitated Trevor's inflections.

Trevor grinned then said, "Must be the uniform."

"If everything's under control, I'll leave you now. Hello, Trevor." Ms. Lassiter clutched an overcoat and a briefcase in her hands.

"Hi, Flo. How's life treating you?"

"Terrible, just terrible." Flo grinned at Trevor then made her farewells. "I'll leave Casey in your capable hands, gentlemen. Just, please, have her on time for her signing engagement tomorrow."

Ray smiled. Under that sharp exterior, he knew that Flo harbored a genuine concern for Casey. "Don't worry, Flo. We'll take good care of Casey."

"I'm sure you will, Ray." The smile softened Flo's thin features.

Ben excused himself to finalize some details of the event with the store manager. "I'll be right back, Casey. Please don't leave before I return."

"Of course not, Ben. We'll wait for your return." The small group watched the red-clad figure wend its way through the aisles of books toward the entrance where Thurman stood with several patrons.

Casey gathered some materials from the table as she spoke to her son, "Let me get my things from the back and we can be out of here. What time is TJ expecting us?" Ray and Trevor followed Casey to the back of the store.

Trevor bowed his head then scratched the back of his neck. "There's a slight problem there, Mom."

Casey turned her full attention on Trevor. "Problem?"

Trevor nodded. "Yeah. TJ's down with the flu. He said he tried to call you."

Casey grimaced then shook her head. "I must have forgotten to turn my phone back on. What about Phil?"

"She's gone to Pennsylvania to discuss that research project with Dr. Grayson."

"The one in Canada?" Trevor nodded.

"I guess we could use her apartment while she's gone."

"Afraid not. TJ said she was moving to a new place and it's being remodeled. All her stuff is in storage."

Casey grimaced again. "And Beth has her hands full with the chicken pox." Sighing, she turned to Ray. "Ray, do you think you could find us a nice hotel room? It seems our relatives are unable to put us up while we're here in Chicago."

"I thought you lived fairly close to Chicago?" Ray was puzzled. Hadn't she said she lived in Island Lake?

A wounded expression briefly crossed Casey's face. "I've been on tour for several months, Ray. I haven't been home for quite some time." Not since that...what had Ray called him? Pervert, that was the word. Not since that pervert had invaded her home and violated her bedroom. Two days later her home was listed for sale. She had not returned to the house after that. All her belongings were in storage awaiting a new home. She hadn't yet decided where that would be. At least Trevor was okay. He shared an apartment with three other students back in Missoula where he was a first year student at the University of Montana.

Ray watched the changing expressions on Casey's face. "What are you not telling me?"

"I sold my home after...after..." She spoke in a broken whisper.

Trevor finished for her. "Mom sold the house after that bastard broke into it."

Ray recalled the circumstances of the break-in. He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Casey."

Casey shook herself, dispersing the memories like leaves on the wind. "I'm just tired of motel rooms, Ray. I was looking forward to spending some time in familiar surroundings." She pulled on her overcoat and reached into the pockets for her gloves. Her face blanched when she withdrew a letter from one of the pockets. She didn't have to look at it to know who wrote it. She had received too many of these to not recognize this one.

Ray took the letter from Casey's limp grip. He knew what it was, too. He just didn't know how it had gotten into the pocket of her coat. Tearing it open, he read the letter sickened by its contents.

Ben joined them as Ray read the note. Thurman, the store manager, was with him. "What is Ray?" Ben read the anger and frustration on his friend's face.

"That pervert got in here somehow and left another letter." Ray waved the offending note in Ben's face. "How could he do that? We had everything covered!"

"Ray?" Both men turned to face Casey. She stood with Trevor's arm around her shoulders. The color had returned to her face. "Could we just leave? I'd like to get out of here."

"Of course, Casey. Let's go." Ray stuffed the letter into the pocket of his suit before donning his overcoat. He watched Casey. He saw her bite her lower lip and straighten herself. He admired her courage in the face of this continued harassment. An idea occurred to him and a smile replaced the grim lines of his mouth. "I've got the perfect solution to your problem, Casey."

Storm-grey eyes sought his but it was Trevor who asked, "What would that be? Aside from hunting that bastard down and pumping him full of lead."

Ray grinned. He liked Trevor's style. "Not a bad idea, kid. I'll keep it in mind." He liked the way Trevor grinned back at him. "I was referring to your accommodations while you're here in Chicago. You can stay at my house. Now hear me out before you object." He could see the objections coming before they even had a chance to formulate them.

"I have a big house and, fortunately, all of the family except my sister, Frannie, are out of town visiting relatives in Florida. There's plenty of room and it'd be perfect for Benny and me to watch over you there. There is one problem though...one very big problem."

Ben nodded his head gravely--a very big problem indeed. "Francesca." Nothing else needed saying.

Ray nodded. "Frannie."

"Your sister? How could she be a problem?"

"Frannie is...is Frannie." How to describe the tempest that masqueraded as his sister? "Don't worry about her, I can handle her. Just be prepared to be overwhelmed. She is one of your most ardent fans." Ray back peddled slightly. "Not anything like this sicko." He patted the pocket containing the latest letter.

Casey shifted slightly. "You sure you wouldn't mind Trevor and me staying with you?"

"Mind? It'd give me a chance to pay back the hospitality you gave us last fall. Benny'll stay with us, too." Ben's presence might deflect some of Frannie's enthusiasm.

"We'll have to stop by my apartment to pick up Diefenbaker and a clean uniform."

"No problem, Benny."

"I'd enjoy seeing Dief again." Casey smiled the first real smile since reception of the letter.

Trevor excitedly asked, "Is he the deaf, lip-reading wolf you told me about?"

"Don't let him fool you, kid. That wolf's as deaf as I am. He just knows a good con when he sees one."

"Ray, Ray, Ray. Dief would be hurt if he could hear you talk about him that way."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just bet he would."

* * *

Later that night after eating an Italian meal fit for a queen and autographing every book Frannie could lay her hands on, Casey finally found herself alone in Mrs. Vecchio's bedroom. Sipping the cup of tea Ben had pressed on her, she settled onto the windowseat and stared out into the darkness. A knock startled her out of her thoughts and she turned toward the door calling out an invitation.

The door opened and Ray stepped into the room. He caught sight of Casey curled up on his mother's windowseat and a tightness settled into the region of his heart. She looked so fragile and delicate framed by the darkness of the night behind her. The softness of the pale blue peignoir did nothing to allay those thoughts. He swallowed trying to find his voice. "Are you alright, Casey?"

Casey smiled at Ray. He was devastating in an Armani suit but she preferred him in his casual attire. She sighed. She hadn't felt this relaxed since last fall at Edge of the Earth when she had pulled two waterlogged men from the river. Just being here with Ray had the most wonderful effect on her nerves. She felt safe. "I'm fine, Ray, and I don't mean f-i-n-e. Thank you for letting Trevor and me stay here with you."

Ray crossed the room and stood over Casey. "I should be thanking you."

Puzzled, Casey tilted her head and asked, "For what?"

Ray took the cup of tea from her hands and set it on the dresser. He then pulled her into his arms. "For coming back into my life." He nuzzled her neck, drinking in the lemony scent of her hair and skin. "I never realized just how much I missed you until I saw you in that bookstore today."

Casey ran her hands up his back until she cradled the back of his head with one hand and rubbed circles on his back with the other. "I've missed you, too, Ray."

The longing in her voice penetrated Ray's thoughts and he raised his head to stare into her storm-grey eyes. He pulled her close and claimed her willing lips in a kiss that he felt in his toes. Pulling back away from her, he ran his tongue over his hungry lips. "I think I'd better go before we do something we might regret."

Casey compressed her lips. She knew the desire for him burned in her eyes. She didn't care anymore. She was tired of denying her feelings for Ray, but he was right. Now wasn't the time to explore those feelings. She let her arms drop from around him. Lowering her face, she whispered, "You're right, of ourse. I just wish..."

Ray's hand stroked her cheek then lifted her chin so he could gaze down into her eyes once more. He let the desire he felt blaze in his eyes and was rewarded by a rekindling of the fire in hers. "I wish the same thing, Casey." He paused and let his eyes speak for himself. "Maybe someday when this is over..."

Casey smiled and nodded her head. "I'll hold you to that, Detective."

Ray smiled and bid her goodnight. "If you need anything, anything at all, I'm right across the hall. Don't hesitate to call me." Casey nodded once more.

After Ray left, Casey removed the peignoir and laid it across the foot of the massive bed. She crawled between the sheets and settled into the center of the bed. Slowly sleep claimed her and she drifted into a dream of rivers, rain, and Ray.

Ray hurried across the hallway to his bedroom; shocked by the way his body refused to obey his mind. He didn't want anyone to see him in this state. There were too many questions that could be asked and, as yet, he didn't have the answers to them. His hands drifted down to the front of his slacks feeling the hardness that tented the front of those slacks.

Grabbing his favorite pair of pajamas, Ray shot down the hall to the bath. Locking the door behind him he quickly stripped the too tight slacks from his body, followed by the briefs. Turning the shower on full blast, Ray stood beneath the cold water until he shivered. After the shock of the cold water did its job, Ray was ready to claim the warmth of his bed.

Clad in the comfort of the well-worn pajamas, Ray tiptoed back to his bedroom. As he passed the door to his mother's bedroom, he thought he heard something. Placing an ear to the door, he listened intently. There it was again. It sounded like a moan. He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door slightly ajar. The wan light from the hallway spread a dim glow across the bed and the slight form there. Everything seemed in order and Ray pulled the door closed. He stopped. The moaning came again. Pushing the door open, he crept into the room.

Casey's dream of Ray's gentle hands imperceptibly changed to one of a faceless nightmare. A raspy voice whispered in her ear, telling her of the things he would do to her. The gentle hands were no longer gentle but hurtful as the faceless man forced himself on her. She moaned her helplessness. Painfully, the man dug his fingers into her shoulders and shook her. She felt his arms creep around her body as he squeezed the life from her. He taunted her with her name, calling, "Casey? Casey?"

Ray shook Casey once more. The low keening sound that had attracted his attention emanated from her. She was caught in a nightmare. Ray gathered her into his arms and held her close. "Casey? Casey? Wake up." He watched her eyes fly open and gaze at him in sightless horror. Concerned, he shook her harder and was rewarded with awareness flooding into her grey eyes. "Casey? I'm here. I'll protect you."

Casey swallowed and stared up into Ray's face. The faceless nightmare trickled away leaving only the terror of its existence with her. Trembling uncontrollably, she huddled in the safety of Ray's arms. Slowly the words of comfort reached her across the terror. "Ray? Is that really you?"

"It's me, Casey. I'm here." He held her gently in his arms, before running a hand down her cheek and across her lips. "That must've been some nightmare. Have you had it before?"

Casey shook her head. She'd had others, but nothing could begin to approach the terror of this one--except, maybe, those about Jim's death. Burying her face in Ray's shoulder, she inhaled his clean masculine scent. Her fists unclenched from around his pajama top and she leaned into him, content to let his strength envelop her.

Ray recalled another night and another nightmare. As then, he rocked her and murmured nonsense words in her ear. "Was this about your husband's death?" Ray whispered against her hair. Casey shook her head. "Are you okay?" Another shake. "What can I do?"

"Stay with me," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Stay with you? You mean stay...with...you? In this bed?" Casey nodded her head.

Ray stared over her head toward the night-darkened window. How could he possible share the same bed with Casey and not give into his desires? How could he hold her in his arms and give her the comfort she needed without his body betraying his need? He peered down into her upturned face. How could he leave her here alone with her fears? How could he deny her simple request?

Ray crawled between the sheets and pulled Casey into his embrace. She spooned her back against his chest and legs. He wrapped his legs around her protectively. The last place he had ever thought to be with a woman was in his mother's bed. Yet, here he was--holding Casey in that particular bed. He buried his face in Casey's hair and grinned at the irony of the situation.

Slowly he felt Casey relax in his arms. Her breathing evened out and Ray knew she was once more asleep. Only then did he draw her even closer to him. He settled her against his burgeoning desire and tried to will himself to sleep. The lemon scent of her hair filled his nostrils and reminded him of those days at Edge of the Earth and the woman with whom he'd fallen in love. That she now slept in his arms aroused him and he knew that sleep would be a long time in coming.

Something drew Casey out of the peaceful sleep she found in Ray's arms. She lay quietly listening to Ray's breathing, reassured by his presence in the bed with her. She felt Ray kiss the back of her neck before muttering a quiet 'damn'. Why was Ray not asleep? He shifted behind her and she felt the hardness of his body. Smiling, she suddenly knew why he couldn't sleep. Jim had had the same problem and Casey knew the best remedy. She reached behind her and, with feather light softness, touched Ray's hardness.

Ray felt like he'd jumped out of his skin when Casey's hand touched him. Fire blazed where her fingers moved. "Casey," he moaned as he felt his body responding to her gentle touch.

Casey rolled to face Ray. "Ray?" she asked before drawing his head down for a kiss. Ray's hesitated before letting his hands find their way to her breasts.

It felt so good to feel a lover's hand on her body once more. Casey opened her eyes and stared into Ray's face. Lover? Is that what she wanted? To be loved by this man? She already knew the answer to that question. She'd known it for several months--ever since last fall when she'd saved him from the river.

"Casey? Do you know what you're doing?" Ray moaned in frustration. Her touch was affecting him more than he dared admit and her kisses coursed through his entire body. The palms of his hands burned with the feel of her breasts. How could he control his body when she caressed him like this? When she felt so good?

Of course Casey knew what she was doing. She clasped one of his hands in hers and slid it down the length of her body to the hem of her gown. "Yes, Ray. I know what I'm doing. I'm finally satisfying a hunger I've had since last fall."

Ray moaned again and slid his hand beneath Casey's gown. He, too, had a hunger for this woman. Together they explored each other with hands and kisses before giving in to the desire that burned in each. Ray gently entered Casey's welcoming warmth. They moved together, meeting each thrust for thrust until they climaxed. Ray spilled his seed in Casey's depths as she shuddered beneath him.

Several times during the night the two came together again to satisfy that hunger that exists between a man and a woman. Finally, on the verge of exhausted sleep, Casey whispered in Ray's ear, "I love you, Ray Vecchio." That said, she slipped into the velvet softness that awaited her.

Ray held Casey in his arms. No longer separated by their nightclothes, Ray ran his hands up and down her bare back relishing the satin-like softness of her skin. He buried his face in her hair and whispered to the sleeping woman, "I love you, too, Casey." He kissed her hair then followed her into sleep.

Hours later, neither Casey nor Ray noticed the door opening then closing again.

* * *

Ray kissed Casey, then reluctantly left his mother's bed. He peered around the door making sure the coast was clear before slipping across the hallway to his room.

He dressed carefully in a charcoal grey suit. A blue shirt and multicolored geometric tie finished his outfit. Straightening the tie, he examined himself in the mirror of his dresser. Was there a difference in his stance? Was it something in his eyes? Staring at the mirror he could swear that his reflection shouted to the world that he had spent the night making love to Casey. A slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. So what? He felt like shouting it to that very same world.

He hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. Draping his suit jacket over the hall tree, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He headed straight for the freezer. Ma Vecchio had left a generous supply of her heavenly light cinnamon rolls for Ray's breakfasts. Pulling the package from the depths of the freezer, Ray turned to place it on the kitchen table. He stopped short, startled by the figure sitting quietly at the table.

"Hello, Ray."

"Morning, Trevor. What are you doing up so early?"

"I usually get up early and fix a pot of coffee." He indicated the cup in his hand.

Only then did Ray notice the smell of brewed coffee in the air. Strange how he'd missed that aroma, must have been occupied with his thoughts about the rolls. Ray placed the package of rolls on the table then dug a cup out of the cupboard for himself. He poured a cup then turned back to Trevor. "Umm...that's good coffee."

Trevor nodded. "Thanks."

Ray turned on the oven and arranged the rolls on a cookie sheet. Placing them in the oven, he set the timer then joined Trevor at the table. Soon the aroma of baking rolls invaded the quiet confines of the kitchen. Not too many minutes later, Dief joined them. Ray smirked at the wolf. "I thought that'd get you."

*Woof*

"Sorry, boy, you'll just have to wait like the rest of us." Ray turned his indulgent smile on Trevor. Something was bothering the kid. Ever since Ray had joined him in the kitchen he had avoided Ray's eyes. He reached across the table and laid a hand on Trevor's. "Is there something bothering you?"

Trevor jerked his hand out from beneath Ray's. He swallowed finding the words that he needed to say were choking him. He stared helplessly at the man across the table. What his mother did with her life was her concern. She was old enough to take care of herself. He just didn't want to see her hurt again. He stared into Ray's concerned eyes. Sighing deeply, he shook his head slightly. "It's usually the father asking the boy 'did you sleep with my daughter?' and not the son asking the man 'did you sleep with my mother?'"

Ray sat back in the chair and watched Trevor. How much did he know? "Why do you ask that?"

Dipping his head slightly, he said, "I checked on Mom earlier and saw you."

Ray clasped his hands together and placed them on the tabletop. He leaned over his hands examining them intently. Raising his eyes to meet Trevor's, he asked, "Are you asking me if I slept with your mother or if I had sex with her?"

"The answer is yes to both questions." Neither man had noticed Casey's entrance into the kitchen. They watched her fill a cup with coffee then turn to face them. "I thought we already had this talk, Trevor."

"I just don't want you hurt, Mom."

Ray stood and approached Casey. Placing her cup on the cabinet, she slid into his arms. "I would never hurt your mother, Trevor." He smiled down at Casey's delicate features. "I love her too much."

"Mom?"

"You've known how I felt for several months. Why are you surprised that Ray feels the same?"

"It's just that...um...don't you think you're moving a little fast? Don't you think you should slow it down a bit?"

Casey gazed up into Ray's hazel eyes. What she read there sent a wave of desire skyrocketing through her. Smiling lazily up at him, she answered Trevor's question. "No. I don't think I could even if I wanted to...and I don't. Do you, Ray?" Ray grinned back down at her then

shook his head.

Trevor sipped his coffee and watched his mother and Ray. He hadn't seen her this happy and relaxed since his father's death. Ray seemed like a nice guy and if he made his mother happy then that was really all that mattered. He rose from his chair and approached the couple. He extended his hand to Ray. "Does this mean I can call you Dad?"

* * *

"I'll check back with you later, Mom. TJ's going to meet me at the museum and introduce me to Dr. Carver."

"I thought you said he was sick with the flu?"

"He is. He told me that he would drag himself off of his deathbed and meet me at the museum since he was the one who set up this meeting in the first place. I have a feeling he'll head right back to bed. You know how he is when he's sick."

"The whole McKenzie clan is like that. Sometimes I think Rob is the only normal one of the bunch."

Trevor chuckled then added, "Yeah, but he married Beth. What does that say for his sanity?"

"Not much." Casey joined in the good natured ribbing of the sister and two brothers that had become as close as her own family. Too bad Phil and her cousin, Lloyd, had not pursued a closer relationship. If any two people were right for each other it was those two. She shook herself as Lloyd's name penetrated her thoughts.

"I should be off skiing with Lloyd instead of doing research at the museum." Trevor admired his cousin. As a child and, later, as a teenager, he'd spent as much time as possible with Lloyd. Last summer, he'd manned a fire tower near the Forest Service office where Lloyd was stationed.

In turn, Lloyd fostered Trevor's growing interest in forestry and forest ecology. Combined with Phil McKenzie's encouragement, that interest led to the course of study Trevor now pursued at the University of Montana. He already had a job lined up as soon as he graduated. Phil needed someone with a background in biology, especially ecosystems, to round out the team at BakTrak, Inc. Too bad Phil would be gone to Canada this next summer. She'd miss her regular visit to Edge of the Earth and he'd miss seeing her.

"If I'm not mistaken, Trevor. You were the one who contacted TJ for his help. You know Spring Break's the only time you could have made the trip and not missed any of your classes."

"I know, Mom. I just wish I could get in some skiing."

"Don't we both. Don't we both." She grinned at her son and he joined her laughter. "At least it gave us this opportunity to see each other." Casey smiled up into the face of her son. "It's been very lonely without you. I've missed not having you around."

A gleam entered Trevor's eyes. "Maybe you should do something about that--about being alone."

"I thought you wanted us to slow down a bit," Casey laughingly reminded him.

"Well, I do, but...I don't like for you to be alone. Have you thought about where you're going to move to?"

"I..."

"Are you ready to go?" Ray joined Casey and Trevor in the front hall. "Benny's fending off Frannie. And Dief...well, Dief's finishing off the rolls. I tell you that wolf is..."

"...a sweetheart." Casey finished for him.

Ray scowled. "That's not what I had in mind."

The hurried patter of boots reached them before Ben barreled out of the kitchen. "I see we're ready to leave. That's good. I'll wait for you in the car." Shooting out the door, Ben disappeared in a flash of red.

"Benton? Now where did he go?" Frannie burst out of the kitchen, the joy of the hunt evident in her eyes. "Where'd he go, Ray? Benton?" She peered up the stairs before heading up. "Are you up there? Benton?"

"Let's get out of here before she realizes he's escaped." Ray herded Casey and Trevor before him. Calling over his shoulder, he summoned the wolf. "Hey, Furface, we're leaving now. You coming or staying here with Frannie?" Dief stuck his head around the door of the kitchen then

disappeared back into its recesses. Ray quirked an eyebrow before closing the door.

* * *

Ray hurried to join Ben and Casey near the entrance of The Sampler, a small eclectic bookstore. "We're a little early and they're not quite ready for us."

"That's fine, Ray. We can wait." Casey glanced around the store. They were so early that even Flo hadn't yet arrived.

"I'll stay here and see to the security arrangements. Why don't you take Casey for a walk, Ray?" It was hard to mistake the looks shared between Ray and Casey and Ben knew the couple would enjoy some time alone. "You don't need to be back here for another hour."

Ray smiled at his friend. For someone who pretended to not understand the intricacies of love, Benny understood him well enough. "Thanks, Fraser. I owe you." He wrapped Casey's arm around his and they left the bookstore arm-in-arm.

Ben smiled after his friend. He was glad Ray had finally admitted to the feelings he felt for Casey. A brief shadow of regret passed over his thoughts. He hoped Ray wouldn't make the same mistake he had made all those years ago. He closed his eyes as the memory of a crooked smile and lavender scented hair momentarily warmed him. Shaking himself, he silently called after his friend, ‘Don't let her go, Ray. You may never find another love like her.’

Ray and Casey wandered in the direction of a small park a short distance from The Sampler. Although winter still held sway, there was a definite taste of spring in the air. Passing a small flower shop, Ray impulsively pulled Casey inside and bid her close her eyes. Impatiently, she waited until she felt a small bouquet pressed into her hands.

"Open your eyes, Casey," Ray's sultry voice requested.

She did so and gazed at the small cluster of blossoms. Tears sparkled in her eyes. Did Ray know that red tulips were a declaration of love? She gazed into his hazel eyes and read the answer there. "They're beautiful, Ray. Thank you."

Ray lifted her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it. "Not half as beautiful as you are."

The couple continued their walk to the park and sought a bench overlooking the small body of water euphemistically called a lake. Ray draped his arm across Casey's shoulders and pulled her close to his side. Casey leaned her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the peacefulness of their tiny oasis. Unfortunately, it wasn't to last long as a cry for help reached them from the jogging path that circled the lake.

Ray sprang to his feet, ready to tackle the situation. He paused then turned to Casey, the indecision plain on his face. He couldn't leave Casey. He was here to protect her. Yet, that call for help echoed in his ears.

"Go...go, Ray. You're a cop. I'll be alright." Still he hesitated. Casey shooed him away. "Honest! I'll be fine. Go...go."

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." Ray raced to answer the call for help.

Blanding smiled at Casey. He watched her shade her eyes and look in the direction Ray had taken. He waited until she turned back to him, a question on her face. "I come here often, Cassandra. I jog on the path around the lake several times a week."

"That's nice, Steve. I really need to get back into jogging. I just haven't had time lately." She turned back and gazed in the direction of the small stand of trees where Ray had disappeared. She did not see Steve pull a hypodermic from his pocket and approach her. Maybe it was some sixth sense that alerted her to his presence. Whatever it was, it came far too late. She struggled briefly but it was a losing battle. The sedative took effect quickly. Barely conscious of what was happening, she allowed herself to be drawn from the bench and led away. The red tulips fell from her hands playing a bright staccato on the drab brown of the grass beside the bench.

Ray burst through the screen of brush that hid the jogging trail from sight. He hurriedly scanned both directions searching for the source of the cry for help. There was no one in sight. He hustled down the path a short distance looking both to the left and right for something to show him which direction to take. Nothing. A commotion behind him resolved itself into a pair of joggers. He hailed them and questioned them concerning the cry for help. Neither had seen nor heard anything. Frustration etched itself on his features. Maybe he was just hearing things.

He traced his way back to the bench where he left Casey. There was no one there. He stopped and turned a complete circle. Surely this was the right bench. There weren't any others within view. Where was Casey? This must be the wrong bench. Casey wouldn't leave.

Ray approached the bench, apprehension building. Fearfully he scanned the area again but Casey was nowhere in sight. All he could see was a scattering of red flowers on the grass that reminded him of spattered drops of blood. Fear clutched his heart and he shouted into the light breeze, "Casey?" knowing that she wouldn't answer him. He dropped to his knees and gathered the tulips together and cradled them to his chest. Casey was gone. He'd sworn to protect her and keep her safe. He'd failed miserably. Casey was gone.

* * *

Casey roused to feel the prick of a needle against her arm. A vague shape moved into the range of her vision. A hand reached out to stroke the side of her face. "Don't worry, Cassandra. Soon everything will be all right. I'll make you happy and we'll be together forever," the raspy voice whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Blanding rocked back on the side of the bed. The sedative would keep Cassandra amenable to his plans. A flash of hot anger burned across his thoughts as he stared down at the woman on the bed. How could she betray him with that cop? After writing all those books about him, how could she betray his love for her with that cop? Admittedly, he had worried when the police were first called in. But after watching the cop and the Mountie yesterday, it had been extremely easy to fool them.

Of course! He would gladly guard the rear entrance. That only made it easier for him to slip his love letter into the pocket of her coat. It had also made it easy to keep track of her whereabouts and to plan their elopement. He knew she loved him. How could she write all those romances about him if she didn't love him? Why could she not see that? Why did she reject his love letters?

Blanding knew the cop and Mountie would be searching for Cassandra but he had that contingency covered as well. Hunt as much as they wanted, they would be too late. Cassandra was his and he would make her his permanently. No one would come between them and wrest her from his care. No one.

He slid to the edge of the bed and stood. Time to prepare for the ceremony. He shivered in anticipation. He had waited for over a year for Cassandra to acknowledge his love and devotion but she had run from him. Why then did she continue to write her love stories? Confused, Blanding turned back to the bed and watched Cassandra for a moment. Women? Who could understand them? He knew what she wanted and he was going to give it to her.

Reaching into the depths of the closet, Blanding withdrew a white satin gown. It was beautiful in its simplicity. Draping it over his arm, he carried it to the bed and spread it carefully across the foot. He knelt on the side of the bed and lifted one of Cassandra's eyelids. Satisfied with what he saw, he began to undress her. Gently he removed her jacket then pulled her up into his arms and, reaching behind her, pulled the zipper down on the floral dress she wore. He slipped it off her shoulders and down to her waist. Grasping the hem of the dress, he pulled it the rest of the way off. Reverently, he removed her slip then stepped back to stare at the partially clad woman.

Not satisfied with what he saw, he pulled on the waistband of her pantyhose, divesting her of them. Still not satisfied, he reached across her and felt behind her with his hand. Locating the clasp of her bra he released it and removed the undergarment. Smiling slightly, he fondled her

breasts, pinching the nipples into rosy hardness. Liking what he saw he grasped the scrap of panties she wore and tore them from her. Running his hand over her stomach, he delved between her legs and forced his fingers into her. His other hand worked the zipper of his slacks and soon he was pleasuring himself as he violated the woman.

* * *

"One minute she was there, the next she was gone." Ray's voice shook with fear.

"Calm down, Ray. We'll find her." Ben squeezed Ray's arm before scanning the ground in front of the park bench. There were no signs of a struggle, nor could he make out any footprints in the grass.

*Woof*

"Diefenbaker! Am I glad to see you!" Ben looked past the wolf and spotted Frannie running across the open area to join them. She waved something held in her hand.

"Here's the blouse you wanted, Benton?" Frannie wheezed as she caught her breath. "What do you want it for? I have several that are a lot prettier than this one."

"We need it for the scent, Francesca."

"The scent?" Only then did Frannie turn to her brother. "What's happened?"

Ray ran his hands over his face. "Casey's gone. Someone must have taken her." He shuddered to think that it might be that pervert that had stalked her for so long.

Ben accepted the blouse and knelt down beside Dief. The wolf sniffed the blouse then raised his muzzle to sniff the air. Breaking into a lope, he raced across the clearing in the direction opposite to the jogging trail Ray had investigated earlier. Ben and Ray followed closely behind.

"Hey, wait for me," Frannie called as she tried to follow the men. Hampered by the high heels on her shoes, she soon gave up. "You go on without me. I'll just wait here. On second thought, I'll wait at home." She started back in the direction of her car. "Just look at that. I've broken the heel of my shoe. You'll pay for this, brother dear." Several other imprecations were hurled at Ray as Frannie limped back to her car. When she reached the solidness of the parking lot she turned and watched the indistinct forms of her brother and Fraser. She silently prayed that they would find Casey. It was all too evident to her that Ray was in love, deeply in love, with the woman. ‘Please, God, help my brother find her. Please.’

* * *

After the spasms from his release subsided, Blanding withdrew his fingers and he carefully clothed Cassandra in the white satin gown. He arranged her legs in an appropriately modest line and crossed her hands on her stomach. He stepped back to admire his work then set about dressing himself. He stood in front of the full-length mirror and openly admired himself. He was tall, blonde, and muscular just like the covers of several of Cassandra's books. How could she possibly prefer that thin Italian cop to his perfection? He removed his clothes, admiring his body as he did so. He was so obviously superior in everything, how could she not love him? Standing naked before the mirror, he postured displaying his muscular physique to himself. No there was no comparison between his perfection and that insignificant Italian cop. He ran his hands over his chest and down his stomach to grasp himself. No, there was no comparison at all.

Donning a simple black suit, Blanding ran his fingers through his hair then opened a small box on the dresser. He removed a small nosegay of white rosebuds and carried them to the bed. He placed the small bouquet in Cassandra's unresisting hands then climbed onto the bed with her.

Stretching out beside her he took her limp form into his arms. Nuzzling her neck, he whispered into her ear. "I, Steve Blanding, do promise to love and cherish you. I'll protect you and keep you ever mine. You, Cassandra Hope, do promise to love me and only me. You promise to be mine forever. Amen." He kissed the unresisting lips then lay Cassandra's limp body back on the bed.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Blanding began to remove his clothes. A feral gleam entered his eyes as he stared at the unconscious woman on the bed. Finally, naked once more he crawled onto the bed. "Time to consummate our marriage, Cassandra." He carefully removed the satin dress--Cassandra's wedding dress--then kissed the lips that invited his touch. His hands moved across the curves of her body.

* * *

"Dead end. How are we gonna track him now, Fraser?" Ray stared in disgust at the empty parking lot.

Dief had followed the scent to this location and now he stood, muzzle in the air, searching for a continuation. There was none. Whining his disappointment, Dief padded over to join Alpha Male and his friend.

*Whine*

"I know you're sorry, Dief. You did the best you could. At least we know, she was taken away in an automobile of some sort."

"Yeah, that's a lot of help, Benny." Ray spun around and stared toward the traffic on the street.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sure something will turn up to aid us in our search."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Perhaps an eye witness?"

"Yeah, and that eye witness will even know the pervert." Ray shook his head. Even after all this time, he still could barely believe the things that Fraser often said. Sure, someone would walk right up to them and describe the make and model of the car in question. Better yet, someone would be able to ID the man who had taken Casey.

Ben scanned the area surrounding the parking lot once more. There had to be a clue. He just needed to look harder. He started across the parking lot, examining the pavement as he walked. Ray sighed, shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and followed.

Suddenly, Ben's head shot up. He cocked it to one side and listened.

"What?" Ray asked.

Ben shushed him to silence. "I believe...I hear...a...shopping cart." Ben paused frequently to listen. "I believe ...it's coming...from...over there." Ben motioned toward a pair of dumpsters at the far end of the parking lot.

"Oh, no you don't, Benny. I ain't climbing in no dumpsters with you." Nevertheless he followed the Mountie across the lot to the twin trash receptacles.

"I do not believe we will need to explore the dumpsters, Ray. I believe all we will need to do is question that woman."

Ray followed Ben's outstretched arm to spy the bag lady tugging on a shopping cart. A wheel was wedged in a crack in the sidewalk behind the dumpsters.

Ben hurried to the woman. "May I be of some assistance, Ma'am?"

The woman glared suspiciously at the Mountie but accepted his help. Ben quickly extracted the wheel and set the cart on the sidewalk.

"Thank you." The woman turned to leave.

"Excuse me?" She turned back at the question. "Maybe you could help me?"

"Oh, I don't know about that, sonny. I don't know much about anything."

"Well, would you give it a try." Ray wasn't exactly on best terms with the homeless. The bag lady sniffed and turned to go.

Ben stepped in front of her cart. "Please excuse my partner. He's very worried about a friend of ours." The woman seemed mollified by Ben's apology. "Have you been here long?"

The bag lady raked Ben then Ray from head to foot. "Since about three hours ago," she warily answered.

"Did you by any chance see a young woman in this parking lot? She disappeared from the bench by the lake about an hour ago."

The woman's face broke into a wreath of smiles. "That would be the woman that nice young Mr. Steve was helping. Yes, she was very sick. Mr. Steve almost had to carry her."

"Do you know where this Mr. Steve took her?" Ben asked.

"He said she was his sister and he was going to take her home so she could rest. He's such a nice young man. He gave me a twenty to keep my mouth shut. He said his sister would be very upset if anyone knew she was sick. I said he should take her to the hospital but he said she would be fine. All she needed was some rest."

Ray was ready to throttle the talkative bag lady. First you couldn't get crap out her, now you couldn't shut her up. "Do you know where Mr. Steve lives?" He cut into her recitation.

"Not exactly, I don't. I heard he lives over on Beaumont. An acquaintance saw him over there."

"Beaumont? Got an address?"

The bag lady glared at Ray. "No I don't, Mr. Pushy."

"My friend is sorry, Ma'am. As I've said, we're very worried about our friend--Mr. Steve's sister. Could you by chance describe his car?"

"You're such a polite young man." She held out her hand.

"Yeah, he's Canadian. They're born polite. Can you describe his car?" The hand shifted in his direction. Ray grimaced before digging in his pants pocket. He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through it. "How much is this gonna cost me?"

The bag lady tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow. "Mr. Steve gave me a twenty."

"All right, I'll give you forty." He held out the two twenty dollar bills. The bag lady smiled and reached for the money only to have it jerked out of reach. "The car?" Ray asked.

"Mr. Steve has a real nice car. Not one of these fancy ones with all the gadgets. Just a nice normal car."

"For crying out loud, lady. What kinda car?"

Miffed, the bag lady hesitated. What the hell, she could use the money. "Mr. Steve drives a green Ford Fairlane."

"A Ford Fairlane?" Ray squeaked. An emphatic nod, then the bag lady grabbed her money and hurried away. "Sonofabitch, Benny. I haven't seen a Ford Fairlane in...in years!"

"That should make it fairly easy to trace."

Hurrying back to the Riv, Ray got on the radio to Elaine. "Elaine, I need an address for the owner of a green Ford Fairlane, no plates. Address on Beaumont."

"So you want me to pull an address out of the hat or what?" The tinny voice asked.

"Just do what you can. Please, Elaine?"

"Is Fraser there with you?"

"No, I'm riding around the better part of Chicago with a giant Mountie doll in my car. Of course, he's here with me. Haven't you heard? We're on assignment together." His usual sarcasm could not conceal the concern in his voice. A simple babysitting assignment. An assignment he'd blown.

"I'll get back with you as soon as I come up with something."

"Thank you kindly, Elaine."

"Yeah, thanks, Elaine."

In the meantime they had but one choice--drive up and down Beaumont in the hopes that one of them would spot a green Ford Fairlane. They could only hoped that that car was not hidden in some garage.

* * *

Casey gradually regained consciousness. Her head throbbed with a headache that threatened to split her skull. Moaning, she brought her hand up to rub her temple.

"I'm sorry I had to drug you, Cassandra. But there was no time." The raspy voice whispered in her ear.

Startled, Casey tried to pull away from the man that lay with his leg draped across hers. Realization flooded over her and she burned with shame. She was as naked as the man who now fondled her breast and kissed her neck. She pushed away from him, but he kept his arms tightly around her. "No, get away from me. Leave me alone." She pushed against his bare chest once more to no effect. Arching her fingers she scratched at the face that now nuzzled her breast.

With a roar of pain, Blanding jerked to a sitting position. He felt his cheek. How dare she scratch him? He was her husband and he owned her. She had no right to refuse him. Maybe she didn't understand that. "Don't worry, Cassandra. I'll be gentle with you." And he brought his lips to her breast and took the nipple into his mouth.

Casey screamed and beat on the man's back. His hand came up and covered her mouth. She raked his back with her nails. He reared up and struck her across the face. Angry that she continued to defy him and deny him his rights, he struck her again and again. He finally stopped when she no longer struggled against him. Smiling he returned to her breast, kissed it then moved lower.

The repeated blows dazed Casey. Each time she pushed against the man's body, he hit her. Finally she could no longer lift a hand to push him away. Realizing she couldn't defend herself, she crept into a dark corner of her mind and divorced herself from what was happening to her body. That was the only way she knew she could survive.

Blanding lavished caresses and kisses on Casey's body with no response from her. Even the most intimate of kisses failed to elicit anything. It was as if he was making love to a lifeless manikin. Angry, he shifted up her body, forcing his knees between her legs. He roughly grasped her hips and plunged into her warmth. No thought except for his pleasure, he pumped and grunted until his release exploded into Casey's unresponsive body.

Blanding collapsed on top of Casey. He tenderly kissed her lips and whispered in her ear, "See, I told you I'd be gentle. I love you, Cassandra. You're mine now. I've made you mine and no one can take you away from me. No one."

Kissing her once more, Blanding rose from the bed and haphazardly threw a sheet over Casey. "Don't go anywhere, my darling. I'll be right back and then no one will be able to separate us." He padded to the door of the bedroom, reconsidered, and approached the woman on the bed. He lifted an eyelid. He gently slapped her face until she moaned in pain. He went into the bathroom and returned with a hypodermic. "Sorry, Sweet, but I have to make sure you'll stay here." He injected the sedative and waited a few minutes. Satisfied that his new bride would not leave him, he again set about preventing their separation.

Blanding hurried to the basement and gathered the last of his supplies. Carrying the gasoline can up the stairs to the living room, he drenched the sofa, armchair, and rug with gasoline. Blanding carefully arranged candles on every flat surface. Finally, he lit the candles and stepped back to admire the glowing illumination of the candles.

"No one can separate us now, Cassandra. No one can take you away from me. No one." He caught a glimpse of himself in the ornamental mirror over the fireplace. Candlelight flickered across the sheen of sweat on his body. Unable to resist a narcissistic urging, he paused and postured before the mirror. How could any woman possible resist his perfection? His eyes traveled over his muscled chest and abdomen, finally gazing with pride on the evidence of his

virile manhood. Unable to resist, he watched the image in the mirror grasp that manhood and apply a familiar rhythm to it. Building to his climax, Blanding sank to his knees and gave into the pleasure of his hands and the resultant shuddering release. Only when his breathing slowed did he take his eyes from the image in the mirror. How could anyone not find him desirable?

An increase in the glow from the candle flames pulled him away from his fantasies. Some of the candles had burned down and would soon ignite the gasoline soaked furnishings. He turned back to the mirror and ran his hands lovingly over himself once more, gratified as his desire built again.

Blanding glanced one last time about the room noting the shortness of the candles. Not much longer and flames would consume this room then spread to the rest of the house. He glanced toward the bedroom where his bride waited. A sly look settled on his features as he stroked himself to hardness once more. Cassandra needed him. She needed the gentle touch of her husband. Stroking himself, Blanding hurried toward the bedroom and his bride. He would pleasure her until the fire claimed them in a perfect union.

* * *

Frustrated, Ray beat on the steering wheel of the Riv. "She's here, Fraser. She's here somewhere. I just know she is."

Ben laid a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. "We'll find her, Ray. We'll find her."

Ray rested his forehead on the steering wheel. "I know we will, Fraser. I just hope that pervert hasn't hurt her."

The pair had driven the entire length of Beaumont looking for a green Ford Fairlane. Neither one had spotted that particular car. Making a U-turn, Ray began retracing their steps. The wail of a siren reached them and both men sought for the source of the noise. Pulling over to the curb, Ray let a fire truck pass then pulled in behind the truck. He flipped his siren on. "Might as well check this out, Benny. You can never tell. We might just get lucky."

"Ray, you know I don't believe in luck."

The green Riv sped down the street in the shadow of the fire truck. When it pulled to the curb in front of a '60's ranch style house; the Riv pulled in also. Ray and Ben flung themselves out of the car. A middle-aged woman hurried toward them. "Please help my neighbor. I saw him drive his car into his garage. He never came out. I'm afraid he may still be in the house."

"What kind of car does he drive?" Ray asked.

"I don't know. It's big and green."

"Is it a Ford Fairlane?"

"I don't know. I think it's a Ford. It's an old car. I haven't seen many like it. Do you think he's still in there?"

"Does your neighbor have a name?" Ben asked.

"Oh my, yes, how careless of me. His name is Steve Blanding. He's such a nice young man. I hope he got out."

Ben stared at Ray. The name, Steve Blanding, hung in the air between them. "Shit, Benny. He worked at that bookstore yesterday."

"He watched the back entrance. Casey's coat was in the back."

"Blanding's the pervert that's been stalking Casey." Both men stared at the house as smoke billowed from the basement casement windows.

A roar of rage tore from Ray's throat. "He's got Casey in there. We've got to get her out, Benny."

"We will, Ray." But Ray was no longer there. Ray jumped the hedge that bordered the perimeter of the neat yard and rushed to the door.

"Stop that idiot! Who does he think he is?" A fireman rushed over to Ben.

"I'm sorry, sir. But there are two people trapped in the house..."

"Trapped? Why didn't you say so?" The fireman scurried off and soon a rescue team prepared to enter the house. Flames licked through several of the windows and smoke billowed from several locations.

Ben ran after Ray. They had to rescue Casey now. Covering his face, Ben flung himself through the large window on the front of the house. Ray had already disappeared around the back of the house in search of a way to gain entrance.

As he hit, Ben rolled and came to his feet. The odor of gasoline permeated the air. Candles of various lengths burned about the room. The kitchen was already consumed in flames that licked toward the room where he now stood. Shielding his face, Ben dodged flames and raced down the hallway, checking each room as he passed. He barreled into the last room at the rear of the hall. Coughing, he fanned the smoke in the room to clear it.

"Don't come any closer," Blanding threatened.

Through watering eyes, Ben saw Blanding kneeling in the middle of the bed. Casey hung limply in his arms. It was obvious she had been severely beaten. It was also obvious that Blanding had just raped her.

"Don't come any closer. I won't let you take her away from me. She loves me. She belongs to me. You can't have her."

"Mr. Blanding, your house is on fire. We must leave here immediately. We must get Casey out of here."

"No. Cassandra stays here with me. Soon we'll be together forever. No one can separate us." A fever bright madness burned in his eyes. He pulled Casey with him as he scooted to the head of the bed. "No one can take her from me. If I can't have her, no one can." His hand delved under a pillow and came up with a gun. "No one can have her. She's mine."

"Mr. Blanding, we can talk this over. We must leave before the fire reaches this room."

Blanding placed the gun to Casey's temple. "You don't understand. We were made for each other. She loves me. She wrote all those stories about me. We must be together." Grinning like one possessed, he whispered, "She's mine. I've made her mine. No one can have her. No one." His voice rose until he shouted. Cocking the gun, he whispered once more, "She's mine!"

Ben lunged toward the bed. Blanding turned the gun upon the demon in red that had disrupted his wedding ceremony. Aiming at the demon, he grinned and squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang loudly in the confines of the smoky room. Ben jerked then sank to his knees. He drew in a shaky breath, surprised that he still lived. The sound of shattering glass drew his attention to the window.

Ray broke the last of the glass from the window. Reaching through, he unlatched it and shoved the window up. Holstering his gun, he clambered through the window and approached the bed. Ben was already there separating Casey from the man who'd stalked her for over a year.

Ben wrapped Casey in the sheet from the bed while Ray examined Blanding. Ray smiled in grim satisfaction. Even as badly as his hand shook, the shot was true. Blanding would never stalk another person.

Flames roared through the door, hungrily feeding on the carpet. Ray quickly climbed back out the window and took Casey's limp form from Ben. Ben joined him outside. Hurrying away from the house, they turned and watched the house as it was engulfed in flames.

Ray sank to the ground and held Casey in his arms. He stared at the fire then back at his friend. "I think you said it all right there, Fraser."

Ben shook himself and turned to face Ray. "Oh, I didn't say that, Ray. It's a quote from the Book of Revelations." He stared back at the house as the ceiling joists groaned and collapsed in on the house. A great flurry of sparks and flames shot up. "It somehow seemed appropriate."

* * *

Sunlight flooded across the bed and the woman occupying it. She stared out the window at the blue expanse of sky framed by that opening. So much had happened to her. So much horror and ugliness that it threatened to overwhelm her. How could she face anyone once they knew what had happened to her? She felt violated, dirty.

He mind drifted to those hours after her rescue. Smiling, she held onto the memory of Ray's possessive hold on her. Even the ambulance ride couldn't separate him from her. He sat across from her holding her hand as the EMT puttered around her. His strength, his support, his love had made the difference. Surely she would have lost herself in the recesses of her mind if he hadn't been there to hold her. Even now she could see the fear and worry that fought with the love in his eyes--such beautiful hazel eyes, eyes in which to drown. Casey slipped into healing rest, confident that she could weather anything as long as Ray was there to hold her hand.

Quietly, Trevor stirred in the chair beside the bed. He watched his mother as she settled into sleep. Running a hand over his face, he fought the momentary fear that filled him. Where was Ray? If he loved his mother as much as he claimed, then where was he? Probably off helping somebody. Just like he was when his mother was kidnapped. He'd promised to protect her but he had left her alone to run to some unknown person's aid. Who did he think he was? A cop?

Startled realization struck him forcibly. That's exactly what Ray was--a cop. How would he have felt if the cry for help had been his mother and Ray just sat on that bench with a woman and turned a deaf ear to her plea? He shook himself. It must be terrible to be a cop and have to make choices like that. He wondered if he would have the kind of strength Ray must have to leave her and go to aid an unknown person. He bowed his head. He had grossly misjudged Ray. Something his mother hadn't done. She had seen the rightness of his actions all along.

Ray stood in the door and stared at the woman in the bed. The bruises on her face were stark against the fairness of her skin. His heart ached with a pain he thought almost unbearable. He had failed to protect her. How could she ever forgive him for that? He wiped at his eye then turned to go.

Trevor watched Ray stop in the door and stare at his mother then turn to leave. "Ray. Please wait." Trevor rose from the chair by the bed and hurried across the room. There was no way he would let Ray slink off into obscurity. His mother needed him. He caught up with Ray in the hallway.

Ray continued toward the elevator, Moses parting the sea of nurses and orderlies. There was nothing for him here. He had failed Casey. He could never forgive himself for that. How could she? He had failed the woman he loved.

Trevor grasped Ray's arm and steered him into a quiet alcove. "Ray? What's the matter? You look like you've lost your best friend."

Ray leaned against the wall of the alcove before sliding down to sit in one of the chairs. Trevor settled into the other. "I've lost worse than that, Trevor."

"What would that be?"

Ray motioned with his head. "Her."

"Mom? You think you've lost Mom? What would give you that idea? You saved her from that bastard."

Ray buried his face in his hands. Dragging the fingers down his face, he peered over them at Trevor. "It's my fault he got to her. If I hadn't left her alone..."

"You're a cop, Ray. You were simply responding to a call for help. What kind of cop would you be if you didn't? Mom understands that."

"How can she possibly understand?"

"You'd be surprised. She's often harder on herself than she is on others. Just like now."

Ray focus on Trevor's face. "Now?"

Trevor compressed his lips letting some of the fear he felt surface in his eyes. He nodded then spoke in hushed tones, "She thinks she’s to blame for what happened. She's sworn to never write another romance novel as long as she lives."

Ray quirked an eyebrow. "No more romances?"

Trevor shook his head. "She's such a good writer, I hate to see her quit. Maybe she just needs some time. Maybe she can forget what happened and go on with her life."

"That may be hard for her to do. She's been through more than any one person should have to face."

Trevor nodded before speaking, "She needs someone to lean on, someone to love her. She needs you."

Ray leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. "Oh shit, Trevor. She doesn't need me. I'm the one who let her down. She's here because of me. How could she need me?"

The barely concealed agony of Ray's thoughts touched Trevor. If he'd been unsure before, he was certain now. Ray Vecchio loved his mother. That was all that mattered now. "She loves you, Ray."

That's not what he wanted to hear. How could she love him after he'd failed her? Maybe she could forgive him but he couldn't forgive himself. Every time he looked at her he'd be reminded of how he'd failed to protect her. He rose to his feet and turned to go. At the entrance to the alcove he turned and stared back at Trevor. The pain and recriminations burned in his eyes. "That's not enough, Trevor. That's not enough. I can't forgive myself for what I let happen. Maybe someday I can, but until that day I could never face Casey and feel like a man." Ray turned to go.

"That's not true, Ray."

"Maybe, maybe not. That's the way it is. I have to deal with it. Tell your mother..." Ray paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Tell her that I love her."

Trevor nodded his head. He understood Ray's reasoning. He only hoped his mother would. "I'll tell her, Ray."

"Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome...Dad."

* * *

Casey sat on the bank just above the eddy on the river where her life had begun anew. Summer had come to the mountains and Casey relished the warm sun on her fair skin. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the water as it tumbled over the falls, swirled around her eddy, then continued its journey over the boulder trains and through the rock cut below. After five more miles of whitewater, the river would calm itself as it passed the mouth of the tiny valley that sheltered Edge of the Earth.

She listened with her whole being, searching for the one sound she knew wouldn't be there. Five months had passed since Chicago, five months of trying to forget, five months of putting her life back together. She shook herself. Who was she trying to fool? Herself? Joseph and Emily? Trevor? They all knew the truth. She left a part of herself back there in Chicago. Her life would never be complete until she reclaimed that part.

She dug through her backpack searching for her notebook and pen. She opened the pad to the letter she'd begun earlier that morning. Reading it brought to mind the man she left behind--Ray Vecchio. Shaking her head, she pondered the ironies of life. Ray, beloved Ray, refused to see her because of some mistaken notion he had about failing her. How could he have failed her? He rescued her from that depraved creature--he and Ben Fraser. Now there was a pair, as unlikely a pair as anyone could imagine. Strange how opposites could mesh together to form a friendship as strong as theirs.

FINI

***Sophocles--"Philoctetes"

Copyright January 1998 by SL Haas

Revised June 1999

North Trilogy and Transitions