The next two hours on the Row passed with excruciating slowness. Thaddeus"s soap opera provided very little relief from the image of Cassidy cowering in the corner of the sleeping porch. Even when Alistair offered to let me watch him paint, I declined, instead preferring to sit on the sofa and search for an explanation for Cassidy"s dismissal. But no matter how deeply I searched, I found no answer. I don"t know how long I had been on the sofa when the door opened and Christopher Downing walked in.
“Billy, would you join me in the dining room for a minute?” he asked. I agreed and we made our way across the patio to the dining room. Downing held the door open for me. “Have you talked to Cassidy?”
I shook my head. “Not since this morning.”
“She won"t talk to me. The last time I checked on
