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“It’s obvious you still frequent this place,” Cassie said when the young woman left.
“I wrote part of my book here.”
“You did? The noise wasn’t distracting?”
“I’m very good at tuning others out when I need to. But I found inspiration watching the different people, especially when I got stuck.”
“When is your book coming out?” Cassie pushed her hair behind her ears.
“Not for another year.”
“Why a murder mystery?”
“When I worked as a reporter, I covered several murder cases from beginning to end, so I drew on my experience.”
“Write about what you know?”
His smile transformed his face, erasing the hint of sadness she often saw lurking in the depths of his eyes. “I can’t say I’ve actually been involved in a murder case. Just as an observer.”
“And now we have our very own murder case at the college.” A tremor snaked down Cassie’s spine when she thought about the unknown woman found in August who was still unidentified.
The waitress placed their orders on the coffee table in front of them, giving Jameson a big grin and a shy once-over before leaving. Cassie wondered if the young woman had taken any of Jameson’s classes. He seemed oblivious to his effect on the female population, but she’d seen the look on the waitress’s face and knew what it meant. When she had been in his class years ago she’d probably had the same silly grin on her face.
He took his mug and sipped his drink. “Even though it’s been nearly two months, everyone is still talking about the murdered woman.”
“People love a good mystery.”
“That’s what I’m hoping with my novel.”
“Thinking of giving up teaching when you become a success?”
“First, most writers don’t make a decent living with their writing, and second, the business is fickle.” He drank a swallow of his coffee. “Now, it’s my turn. Why are you taking my class?”
She’d always been straightforward, and this time she couldn’t be any less than that. “When I saw you at the fund-raiser, I remembered how much I enjoyed your classes, so I signed up when this short course became available. As a teacher I can always use persuasive techniques in dealing with students.”
She curled her hands around her mug of tea, her gaze drifting toward her brother, engrossed in a conversation with the two young men. The impression he was working on a story was still strong. So what did these two students have to do with it?
“When we came in, you seemed surprised to see Scott here.”
Jameson’s observation drew her attention back to the man beside her on the couch. “Yes. He stopped by the house earlier, but he didn’t say anything about coming here.”
“In the past month I’ve seen him here several times.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. You didn’t know he was visiting Magnolia Falls?”
“No.” Again she glanced toward Scott. What was he up to? “Is he meeting with the same people?”
“No, different ones. But I’ve found most of them are connected with the basketball team. I thought at first he might be helping out this season. Practice has started, and although he couldn’t go pro, he can still play.”
“But he doesn’t. When the accident happened, he blamed himself for the team not going any further in the NCAA tournament that year.”
“If I remember correctly, we had a good chance of winning the tournament.”
Cassie felt uncomfortable being reminded of that awful time four years ago when her brother’s life came crashing down around him.
“Granted, Scott was the star player, but as I told him then, he was only one member of the team. Winning is a team effort and so is losing.”
“I said basically the same thing to him, but it didn’t make any difference. He walked away from the game. He rarely even watches it. So why is he talking to members of the team?”
Jameson arched an eyebrow, a gleam glinting in his eyes. “A good question. A story?”
“Possibly. Is there a player who has a chance to go to the NBA?”
“I gather you don’t follow basketball, either.”
“No, just gymnastics. I only followed it when Scott played.”
Jameson tilted his head to the side and thought for a moment. “Maybe. There’s one who has a shot. Marcus Reed. He’s a junior.”
“Reed? Any relation to the Kevin Reed who was involved in Scott’s injury on the basketball court?”
“His younger brother. He has a lot more talent than Kevin did.”
“Is Marcus one of the young men he’s with?”
“No, but a reporter often interviews people around a subject.”
“Then maybe he’s doing a story on Marcus. If so, that’s a good thing.” Cassie finished the last sip of her tea.
“Why?”
“I didn’t think it was good that Scott walked away from basketball altogether. He lived and breathed it before the accident. He also harbored a lot of anger toward Kevin because of what happened. They were best friends, and now Kevin has dropped off the face of the earth.”
“I imagine Kevin had a hard time dealing with the accident, too. Sometimes when something is too painful, you have to cut yourself off totally in order to survive.”
Cassie suddenly realized they weren’t just talking about her brother and Kevin. What had been so painful in Jameson’s life? His wife’s death had occurred almost a year ago, and yet she’d sensed that deep pain even back when she had been in his class as a college student. “You can’t run forever. You have to face the problem and deal with it. It won’t go away.”
A distant look dimmed his eyes. “True.”
So intent on Jameson, she didn’t hear or see her brother approach until he cleared his throat and said, “Cassie, I didn’t know you were going to be here. I thought you were taking a class….”
Her gaze swept to Scott on the other side of the coffee table. “I am. I signed up for Jameson’s persuasive writing class.”
Her brother’s glance fell on his mentor, then back to Cassie. “You forgot to mention that.”
“And you forgot to mention you’ve been coming to Magnolia Falls on a regular basis. Working on a story?”
Scott’s expression went blank. “I’m always working on a story. Well, I’d better be going. I still have to drive back to Savannah. It’s good to see you, Jameson.” He nodded toward them, then left before Cassie could say anything else.
“I think I scared him off with my question.”
“I think you did, too.” Jameson stared at Scott as he made his way toward the door. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, I have papers to grade. May I walk you to your car?”
When he removed his wallet to pay, Cassie put her hand over his, stopping him. The touch singed her fingertips. “This is my treat. I invited you.”
He started to say something but looked into her eyes and decided not to. Sliding his wallet back into his pocket, he rose. “Thanks. Next time will be my treat.”
The idea there could be another time made her heart flutter. Then she caught sight of his wedding ring