Chapter 3
Sunday, May 16, 1999
Palm Beach International Airport
9pm

"I wish I didn't have to get back," Lyam sighed as he and his son headed for his departure gate.

"I wish you wouldn't come back next week, it's not going to be fun." Tom tried not to hurt his father's feelings. The truth was he wanted his parents there for the Internal Affair hearing for support, but didn't want them to hear all the gory details that were going to come out. At least he didn't want his mother to know about his sick and depraved behavior.

"Son, we're going to be here to support you. There's nothing your mother can't handle." Lyam put his hands on his son's forearms.

"I know..." Tom trailed off. His father felt his muscles tense beneath his hands.

Curiously, Lyam turned and looked at what had caught his son's attention. Or rather, who. Cassandra St. John's shimmering blond hair caught his attention immediately. He could feel his son's pulse begin to race and his breath became audible.

As the father and son watched Cassy, who was debarking from an arriving plane at the next gate, ran a tired hand over her forehead and gingerly sat down in one of the uncomfortable gate chairs. Lyam, still clutching his son's arms could feel his son begin to move forward. Just then another passenger, a man, came to stand before Tom's ex-wife. From Cassy's reaction it was obvious she knew the man. He leaned down and stroked her shoulder and spoke to her. Cassy looked up at him and smiled. Tom and Lyam could see the man wink and lean down to pick up her carry on bag. He held out his hand, which Cassy took, and he assisted her to a standing position and followed her towards the baggage claim area. Neither noticed the two men watching their every move.

"I don't have to leave." Lyam turned his attention back to his son.

"Well, I shouldn't have expected that to take long." Tom swallowed and schooled his features to unconcern.

"You don't know they're together." Lyam tried to comfort his son.

"Cassandra St. John wouldn't take the hand of a stranger or let him carry her bag," Tom continued to pretend to be unaffected. "You're going to miss your flight. I'll see you next weekend. I love you." Tom hugged his father.

"Sure, Tom. I'll call you when I get home." Lyam embraced his son back.

"You do that." Tom pasted on a smile before turning and practically stalking away.

>>>>>>

Cassy smiled as Brian handed her baggage to the taxi driver.

"Thank you so much, I usually don't have a problem when I travel," she said again as she prepared to leave.

"No problem, it was my pleasure. You have my number. Maybe when you're feeling better you'll give me a call and we'll have some real food." Brian smiled charmingly.

"I'll do that," Cassy promised as Brian, still a gentleman, helped her into the taxi.

"I'll count on that." Brian winked again, something Cassy noticed her seat companion on the plane did a lot. She suspected he thought it made him more charming. As the taxi drove away she leaned back and closed her eyes. Ever since take off in Houston she had been feeling horrible. Even the relatively smooth cab ride was bringing her stomach back to the brink. 'Must be a bug,' she thought to herself as she rested a palm on her stomach.

Brian, her seat companion, was an architect who lived in West Palm who had taken pity on his obviously uncomfortable seat mate and not bothered her with too much chatter and let her turn off the light and sleep. When she was awake, he provided a welcome distraction from her discomfort. At the airport he had taken pity on her and helped her with her bags, something she definitely would never allowed if she hadn't felt so ill.

Part of her wondered whether it was nerves on her prodigal return to Palm Beach, but certainly she wasn't that out of control of her emotions?

>>>>>>>

Cassy entered the dark townhouse feeling like a stranger, already. She left the lights off, letting the chill of the darkness seep into her bones. She would be leaving this place at the end of the month for good, she needed to disconnect herself from the feeling of home this place had given her over the years.

Now that all movement, other than by her own feet, had stopped she could feel her stomach begin to settle down. She didn't quite feel up to a big meal or calisthenics, but neither did she feel like spending the night over the porcelain-god either. A hot bath was what she was craving. Hotel tubs, not matter how pretty, just weren't home.

"Not home for long," she reminded herself as she headed for her temporary haven.

>>>>>>

Tom Ryan slammed the door to his new apartment with extra force, trying to work off his excess tension. He had been cautious on the way home from the airport, not wanting to get a ticket to add to his troubles, but the caution and the sickening sight of Cassy and her new lover were adding up into raw energy that he needed to burn off.

"A run," he mumbled as he headed for his new bedroom to change.

>>>>>>
Three hours later

Tom slipped his sodden t-shirt around his neck as he dug into the pocket of his tight running shorts for his key. Under the light of the moon his sweaty chest gleamed as rivulets of sweat made their weary path down his muscles. The waistband of his shorts pulled downward as his hand continued to dig around revealing his taut stomach and the hint of a widening trail of hair.

"Yes!" Tom exclaimed as he finally pulled the key from his tiny pocket. Entering his apartment he rubbed his shirt over his chest, ruffling the hair in its wake. As he entered his bathroom he dropped the poor article of clothing into the laundry hamper, something he had bought with his former habits and Cassy's annoyance in mind. As the strange new practice impinged on his consciousness he thought of Cassy.

With a frustrated sigh he began to push his shorts and underwear over his hips. While thoughts of his ex-wife and ex-partner, he supposed she was his ex-partner now, and their last encounter made him harden. Naked and stiff, he leaned into the frosted glass stall and turned on the shower. In a minute the room began to fill with steam. With an athlete's dexterity he slid into the stall and under the water and closed the door in on emotion.

Streams of water slid over his sensitized skin taking dirt and sweat with it and leaving behind the feeling of being caressed.

Leaning his face under the water Tom tried to pretend that his lower body wasn't remembering the feel of Cassy's fingers and the satin sheets of her bed as they both slid over his skin.

>>>>>>>
Tuesday, May 18, 1999
Palm Beach, Florida

"I can't believe you're moving to Houston. I thought you hated Texas and lived for the day you got out." Claudia St. John shook her head and took a sip of her glass of whisky as she and her sister sat outside on the second floor deck overlooking the beach.

"I never hated Texas, I couldn't stand the small town we were stuck in when I graduated high school." Cassy shrugged away the argument.

"Still, I thought you loved Palm Beach. I thought you loved Tom. And I bet it was hard being so popular." Claudia swished the ice and remnants of her drink around in the glass.

"Nice to talk backwards." Cassy refused to rise to her sister's bait. It was taking all of her energy, though.

"Whatever, maybe if you have a drink you'll lighten up. When you suggested I go to Mom's, pick up the car and meet you here I thought maybe we would have some fun. I didn't expect to watch you walk around like stepford wife." Claudia refilled her glass with the decanter she had conveniently settled at the side of her lounge chair.

"Stepford wife?" Cassy finally looked at her sister, but with an exasperated look on her face.

"Everything is wonderful. Yet you're suspended, you're moving to Houston and you're never going to speak to Thomas Ryan again. Hardly seems wonderful to me." Claudia waved the crystal decanter to punctuate her words.

"It's time to move on with my life." Cassy shrugged and began to reapply suntain oil over the skin bared by her skimpy bikini. "There's no sense in moping around about it. I did plenty of that before I went to Houston, ask Mother. You would have been proud."

"It's going to come crashing down," Claudia said ominously.

"What?" Cassy rolled her eyes under the sunglasses.

"Your repression is going to cause you to implode or something," Claudia promised.

"I am not repressed!" Cassy bit her lip at the unintended response.

Claudia just snorted and took another slug of her drink.

"And what's with the drinking?" Cassy changed the subject.

"I'm on vacation and you're making me crazy," Claudia replied, but put her glass down and resumed her sunbathing pose. She shook out her mane of blond hair and stretched her arms over her head, emphasizing her more voluptuous figure. "We've been here for two days, when do you think he'll show up?"

"Who?" Cassy's teeth dug deeper into the inside of her mouth. She knew very well who her sister was referring to. Her heart pounded

Claudia just snorted again and the sisters fell into silence.

>>>>>>>>

Tom Ryan sat in his car across the street from Cassy's town house. He knew she was there, although her Boxer wasn't in the driveway only a car with Miami plates. The piece of paper in his pocket explained all that. For four weeks had been walking around with the uncashed check Cassy had sent him by way of Harry. The brief note enclosed said it was a "refund" of their divorce settlement. He had known immediately that she had sold her dream car. The realization was a punch in the gut. She had begun the process of wiping him out of her life, much like she had done when she had left him and sold their wedding rings and gave him his half of the money back.

"Claimed she had," Tom reminded himself. After waking up in intensive care the nurse had told him about the ring his partner had placed under his pillow. For the couple of weeks he had remained in the hospital he had slept with it in his fist. But he never mentioned to Cassy that he had known that she had kept it and left it like a talisman under his pillow.

"Maybe if I had..." Tom mentally kicked himself for the billionth time and hit his steering wheel for the twentieth since stopping in her neighborhood.

"Ahem," Harry Lipshitz audibly cleared his throat.

"Harry." Tom smiled weakly as his former and hopefully future boss sat down in the passenger seat of his Mustang.

"What are you doing?" Harry ignored Tom's weak attempt at social pleasantry.

"Just taking a drive?" Tom grimaced at his own lame excuse.

"Have you even tried to go in?" Harry asked in a sympathetic tone.

Tom draped his hands over the steering wheel and stared unseeingly out the front window as he shook his head in the negative. "Why are you here?" he asked a minute later.

"She called me," Harry told him. "She said she had some news for me that she wanted to give me in person and she didn't want to appear at the Department. I don't think she knew I had resigned."

"When are you going to do something about that?" Tom asked.

"When they give you full reinstatement!" Harry said forcefully.

"I appreciate the support Harry, but it's not necessary. I got myself into this, I don't want you to sacrifice your career for me," Tom looked at his mentor gratefully.

"This is not solely for you. I'm sick and tired of being pushed around by IA and the Mayor. Burmeister and Ballard are the ones who should have their asses in slings for their shoddy work and unprofessional conduct. I'm not working under these conditions anymore," Harry sternly informed his friend. "Do you want to come in with me?"

"No, I don't think she'd appreciate it. Do you know what she wants to talk to you about?" Tom declined the offer.

"She didn't say," Harry said evasively.

"But you have some idea," Tom concluded. "Tell me Harry," he pleaded when he saw Harry's hesitation.

"I got a call from the Houston, Texas PD asking about Cassy and her suspension," Harry reluctantly told him.

Tom just closed his eyes and didn't respond.

"Nothing is set in stone." Harry put a comforting hand on Tom's arm. "Frannie hasn't even spoken to her yet."

"Frannie is good, but I don't think even she can get Cassy to trust me." Tom looked like his world had just fallen apart, again. "Ten years and I haven't been able to succeed fully and I think I've gotten closer than most."

"She's a tough case, but you've solved tougher, Tom," Harry observed.

A gleam came into Tom's eyes as he looked at his friend. He had never thought about solving the mystery of Cassandra St. John as he would any case he got handed on the job. After over ten years of intimacy, certainly he had an advantage?

"I'm going in. Why don't you come to dinner tonight? It'll stop Frannie from making me start this new diet she's talking about, she likes to feed you good food," Harry suggested.

Tom thought for a minute before responding. "Sure, I might as well have a good meal while I interrogate friends of the the...er...subject." Tom grinned.

"If you tell Cassy I had anything to do with this I'll deny it," Harry said in warning before exiting the car.

"A good investigator wouldn't be caught," Tom mumbled under his breath as he started his car and drove away.

End of Chapter 3