Whirlpool

Cass McLeary wrote about dead people. They couldn't retaliate, being nicely dead, and the criminal mind fascinated her. But Mark Barrington's tale was becoming an obsession, and he wasn't dead. Nor, she was sure, was he a criminal. There was much more here and she wanted the story. Her son was not happy about it.

            Mark Barrington wasn't happy about it either. The woman had written to him several times while he'd served his sentence and was after him again now that he was out. There was a very good reason he'd pled guilty and that still stood. At least until his sister decided it didn't. Something had to be done to help her daughter and Mark was the one who needed to do it.

            Mark's request didn't sound like much, but Cass knew it was. Ashley was at the center if it all and she could so easily screw up. She agreed, not for selfish reasons, but because if she could help the girl she wanted to. She wouldn't mind helping Mark either. By all reports whatever had happened all those years ago had changed him. His family missed him. His friends missed him and she knew bad men weren't granted the title of friend by the sort of people that considered him one.

            So she stepped into the Whirlpool.