Chapter 71

Thomas had been orchestrating an endless succession of outings with Cassandra for the past few weeks—dinner reservations at intimate bistros, aimless strolls through brightly lit shopping malls, guided tours of the local landmark, and even a day spent shrieking on roller coasters at the amusement park. Yet, despite their conspicuous presence in every conceivable public venue, not a whisper of their unseen adversary surfaced. Whatever twisted mind had been hounding them seemed to be purposely ignoring their bait. Cassandra, radiant in her new sundress on one evening and wrapped in a cozy scarf on another, floated through these occasions with gentle smiles and polite conversation. Thomas, however, wore the tension of a man on watch: his gaze darting to every figure in the crowd, his fingers nervously tapping the painted rim of his wine glass. But no text messages arrived. No ominous shadows followed them home. It was as if the threat had simply evaporated into thin air.

That lac