In 1998 his son got the job.

It was, therefore, a predictable town by and large. Change came as reluctantly as heaven admitted sinners.

There were few surprises, and even fewer shocks.

That's what Ben Ryan would have said. What he believed, after a lifetime of knowing this place and with generations of family history at his back. This town and its inhabitants could never surprise him.

That's what he believed.

"Judge? Someone to see you."

Ben frowned at the intercom. "Who is it, Janice?"

"Says her name is Cassie Neill. She doesn't have an appointment, but asks if you can spare a few minutes. She says it's important."

Ben's very efficient secretary was not easily persuaded by people without appointments, so he was surprised to hear a note almost of appeal in Janice's voice. Curious, he said, "Send her in."

He was still jotting down notes and didn't look up immediately when the door opened. But even before Janice announced "Miss Neill, Judge," he felt the change in the room. It was as if an electrical current had been set loose, making his skin tingle and the fine hair on his body stir. He looked up and rose to his feet in the same instant, noting Janice's disconcerted expression as she gazed warily at the visitor.

They were all three disconcerted.

The visitor was functioning under an enormous level of stress. That was his first realization. He was accustomed to weighing people, and this young woman weighed in as someone carrying a burden too heavy for her.

She was of average height but too thin by a good twenty pounds, a fact obvious even under the bulky sweater she wore. She might have been pretty if her face hadn't been so thin. Her head was bowed a bit, as if her attention were focused entirely on the floor, and her shoulder-length, straight black hair swept forward as if to shelter her face, the long bangs all but hiding her eyes.