"I'm flattered," he said, very curious but willing to let her get to it in her own time.

She shook her head. "I've done my homework. You're descended from the Ryans who founded this town. You left only to go to college and law school, returning here to practice. You became a much admired and highly respected district court judge – obviously at a young age – but chose to retire after only a few years because you felt your true vocation was as a prosecutor. You were elected district attorney for Salem County, and you are very involved in community affairs as well as local and state politics. Your… support would count for a lot."

"My support in what?"

She answered his question with a matter-of-fact one of her own. "Do you believe in the paranormal?"

That was unexpected, and threw him for a moment. "The paranormal? You mean ghosts? UFOs? ESP?"

"Specifically extrasensory perception. Telepathy. Pre-cognition." Her voice remained calm, but she was sitting just a bit too stiffly and her clasped fingers moved nervously. She darted another glance at him, so fleeting that all he caught was a flash of those pale eyes.

Ben shrugged. "In theory I always thought it was garbage. In fact, I've never encountered anything to make me change my mind." It was the fairly cynical mind common to many law enforcement officials, but he didn't add that.

She didn't look discouraged. "Are you willing to admit the possibility? To keep your mind open?"

"I hope I'm always willing to do that." Ben could have told her that he himself was given to hunches, to intuitions he found difficult to explain rationally, but he said nothing since it was a characteristic he hardly trusted. By training and inclination he was a man of reason.

Still utterly matter-of-fact, Cassie said, "There's going to be a murder."

She had surprised him again, unpleasantly this time. "I see. And you know that because you're psychic?"