“There has to be a reason, and it has something more than curiosity behind it.”
“I thought I saw someone wearing an outfit like that one night.”
Another weighty pause. “I think we should talk about this in a session. In the office. If you’re having hallucinations again, then—”
“I’m not hallucinating. She was there. In my room. In that uniform, and she even left an earring.”
“An earring?”
“Yes! Red. In the shape of a cross.”
“And you know it was hers?”
That stopped her. Was it possible that someone else could have dropped it?
“Most of the nurses wear earrings.”
Had she seen the earrings on an actual caregiver at the hospital and then created them in her nightmarish dream? No, no, no. Steven Rinko had seen the nurse, too. He even knew the kind of car she drove and . . . but he suffered from delusions and hallucinations and boundary difficulties between what was real and what wasn’t.
Cassie’s throat went dry. She didn’t know what to say. Had she really put all her faith in a genius of a boy who often lived in a fantasy world?
“Listen, Cassie.” Dr. Sherling’s voice was soft again. Kind and caring. Or so it sounded. “Call my office in the morning. I’ll tell the staff I want to see you and they’ll fit you in tomorrow after rounds. I really do think it would be a good thing if we talked again. About your treatment. If not in the hospital then outpatient.”
All the spit dried in Cassie’s mouth. The doubts that were always with her assailed her again and she heard herself saying, “I will.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” And then she clicked off. Cassie was left holding the phone and staring out the window. The fire was burning low in the wood stove, the dog curled into a ball and Trent . . . where was Trent? She heard a floorboard creak overhead and remembered he’d gone upstairs to sort out bills in the bedroom he used as an office.
She wanted to tell him about the phone call, but told herself she should deal with it herself; she couldn’t always go running to her husband. Hell, what a mess!
A headache started to form behind her eyes. She found the remote for Trent’s television, clicked on the flat screen, and scrolled through the stations until she found the cable channel that was hosting mystery shows. Sure enough, slated to be aired within a few minutes was Justice: Stone Cold. The subtitle read: Terror in Ice. The caption read like a horror story from her past: Reporter Whitney Stone reviews the case that terrorized a small town in Oregon where celebrity actress Jenna Hughes was hunted and kidnapped by a serial killer who had targeted her and her daughters.
Cassie’s heart sank. Jenna’s stalker was part of a month-long marathon of shows on serial killers. It seemed from the menu that the hour-long shows were running back-to-back, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And as she checked the listings, she realized that this week, every twelve hours the show about the freak who had held her and her mother hostage ten years ago would run.
Over and over.
She shivered. Remembered the fear, the stark terror of waking up in his ice-cold lair, knowing that both she and her mother were doomed.
She dropped the remote and stared at the television as the program started. First there was Whitney Stone’s face, perfect makeup, long, black hair, hazel eyes staring into the camera’s lens. She was serious. Dressed in black. The screen behind her in shadows.
“We all know that Allie Kramer is missing, her whereabouts unknown, her condition undetermined. Police are investigating her disappearance as a missing person’s case, but there is always the fear that she may already be dead, her body hidden, maybe never to be found.”
Cassie’s throat closed and she felt faint.
But Whitney Stone plowed on. “We at Justice: Stone Cold are currently investigating Ms. Kramer’s disappearance and the bizarre events that happened in and around the set of her latest film, Dead Heat, which premieres soon. I promise you, we at Justice: Stone Cold will ferret out the truth, through exclusive interviews with Allie Kramer’s sister, Cassie, an actress in her own right, but with far less star power than that of her sister. There are questions about her relationship with her estranged sister and rumors of a love triangle between Allie and Cassie Kramer and Cassie’s husband, Trent Kittle.”
