about you. But “It’s still the best description ever” was all she said. Then she shifted her gaze—reluctantly—to Rafe. He was watching them rather assessingly.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” she said quickly.
“You have history,” he said simply.
Oh, yes. And I just got smacked with the fact that for me, it’s not history at all.
“How long has this been going on?” Rafe asked her.
Jace felt oddly relieved that he was bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. He wasn’t sure why—he’d known there would be memories involved, simply because Rafe had been right, they had history.
“Almost three weeks,” Cassie answered, then quickly amended, “That I’m aware of. It could be longer. I might not have noticed right away.”
“Where?” Rafe asked. “Work, home?”
“Both. At least, I think it’s the same guy. I haven’t really seen him here, only his shadow. At night.”
Jace frowned. “His shadow?”
“He—assuming it was him—was outside my bedroom window.”
Jace swore under his breath.
“That’s...when I called you. I got scared that night.”
“I would think so.”
“Where did you first notice the guy?” Rafe asked.
“Outside the shop. He was just hanging around. And he looked...”
“Sketchy? Edgy?” Jace asked.
“More...watchful. Like he was waiting for something. But he wasn’t looking at the street or sidewalk, he was looking at the shop.”
“And what did you think he was there for?” Rafe asked.
“No idea,” she said.
“But what did you think?” he asked again, gently.
Cassie looked puzzled. “Usual stuff, I guess. He was waiting for someone—we had a couple of customers inside. Or he wanted to come in and hadn’t worked up to it yet.” She smiled. “Some guys have an amazingly hard time deciding to buy flowers for someone.”
“I buy them for my mom,” Jace protested.
Cassie blinked. Looked as if something had clicked in her mind, but she only said, “That wasn’t aimed at you.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He grinned rather crookedly. “Must have been from being around you guys growing up. I never thought flowers were scary.”
“I know,” she said, and this time her voice was soft, her smile fond. “I remember you used to ask my mother what they all were called. And the lilies were your favorite.”
Now he was embarrassed. “Yeah,” he said. “I liked how they looked so delicate, but if you didn’t take care they’d mark you forever with that orange stuff.”
“Attack of the Tiger Lilies.”
He had to laugh as she quoted the old title he’d made up as a kid for a horror film starring the tiger lilies simply because he liked the name.
And yet again Rafe had to steer them back to the matter at hand.
“What else did you think or wonder about him that first day?” When she hesitated, Rafe leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Sometimes your brain processes things faster than your conscious mind is aware of. So you have a thought that seems out of the blue, or baseless, when in fact there was an entire thought process that brought you to it.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Cassidy said.
“He means—I think,” Jace added with a glance at Rafe, “like when you see a bluebird. You think you instantly know it’s a bluebird, but really it’s a process. First you see that something’s there, then recognize that it’s a bird, then that it’s blue, and then that it’s not a blue jay, and voilà, you arrive at bluebird. But you’re not conscious of all those steps.”
She was smiling by the time he was halfway through. And Rafe, thankfully, was nodding, so he’d been right.
“Okay, I get it. But—” she gave Rafe a doubtful glance “—I’m not sure how it applies here.”
“When he kept hanging around, did your thoughts about what he might be up to get worse?”
“Oh. Yes,” she said with a small laugh. “I started wondering if he was working up the nerve to steal something, or rob us.” As if she’d heard her own words, her eyes widened. “Do you think that’s what it was? That he was...what, casing our shop? That would be pointless—we really don’t have much cash on hand. Most people use credit or debit cards.”
“Assuming the shop’s cash is what he was after,” Rafe said.
“But what else?”
“Did he make you nervous?” Jace asked. “In a...personal way?”
“You mean did I feel like it was me specifically he was watching? Not then. Not until I started feeling watched around here, at home.”
“What made you think it was the same man?”
Cassie let out an audible breath. “That’s what the police asked. And since I’ve never really seen him when he’s been here, I still don’t have an answer other than odds.”
Jace knew she meant the odds that in a small town like this there would be two men hanging around the two places she frequented most. He agreed, but he wasn’t sure the clearly experienced and likely more suspicious Rafe would. But the man was simply nodding, looking thoughtful.
“Too coincidental,” Jace said.
“Yes.” Cassie sounded relieved that he understood.
“I need to ask you some questions,” Rafe said. “And some of them might seem not pertinent, maybe even impertinent.”
Cassie drew back slightly, looking at the man. “Not a word I’d dare to apply to you.”
Rafe smiled, just slightly, and Jace had the thought that it wasn’t exactly a pleased smile. And Cutter shifted suddenly, from his polite, alert posture to leaning slightly against Rafe’s knee. The man’s hand went to the dog’s head, to scratch behind his right ear, and it had the feel of an automatic gesture, done so often it didn’t require thought any longer.
It was almost like the dog had also sensed that smile hadn’t been a happy one and had moved to comfort. He remembered how his childhood dog, Max, had always seemed to know when he was sad
