Running Hot

could no doubt detect the power of the Queen’s aura, if not all the detailed lights and darks. He could probably see the crazy stuff, too.
    He shifted a little and tugged lightly on her hand, indicating that he intended for them to leave. She tugged back, letting him know that they could not walk out while the Queen was onstage. There was too much risk that their departure would be noticed.
    When the scene changed, they slipped out of their seats and made their way back up the aisle. Grace pretended not to notice the glares of disapproval. She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the lobby.
    “Tough crowd,” Luther observed.
    “Opera has a lot of audience protocols. Walking out in the middle of a performance is frowned upon.”
    “If those people knew what the Queen of the Night could do with her voice, they’d all be stampeding for the exits.”
    “I’m not so sure,” she said, struggling to calm her breathing. “This is opera. People expect larger-than-life performers. Now what?”
    “Now, as ever, we call Fallon.”
    They went outside, crossed the street and entered the discreetly landscaped parking garage. In spite of the fact that the Queen was still onstage and would be for some time, Grace found herself scanning every shadow with her senses. When they reached the rental car, Luther got behind the wheel and took out his phone.
    Fallon answered on the first ring.
    “Well?” he asked.
    “Grace says it’s her,” Luther said. “No question.”
    “Damn.” Shock reverberated in Fallon’s voice. “Is she sure?”
    “I know it’s hard for you when things don’t work out the way you anticipated,” Luther said. “Get over it. We’re the ones sitting here half a block from a woman who can kill us with a lullaby. What now?”
    “Harry Sweetwater says he hasn’t been able to turn up anything on anyone in his line who fits the description of the Siren.”
    “Probably because Grace was right all along. She isn’t a professional hit woman. She’s a professional opera singer.”
    “It just doesn’t make any sense. Why the hell would she go all the way to Hawaii to kill Eubanks if she’s not a pro?”
    “Maybe Craigmore knew what she could do with her talent and was somehow able to convince her to take out Eubanks for him. Maybe he was her lover. Grace says she’s had a long string of them. The bottom line is that she’s a killer.”
    “There are just too damn many questions here,” Fallon insisted. “A big piece of this puzzle is missing. We need to find the connection that brought Craigmore and an opera singer together. Your diva has a town house in San Francisco. I’ll get someone inside as soon as possible.”
    Luther checked his watch. “La Sirène is going to be tied up onstage for quite a while. After that, Grace says she’ll probably spend another hour backstage with her fans. Then she’s scheduled to attend a private reception. Plenty of time for me to see if I can get into her suite at the hotel where she’s staying.”
    Grace turned very suddenly, gripping the back of the seat with one hand, her eyes huge in the shadows.
    “No,” she whispered.
    “Do it,” Fallon said. He ended the connection.
    Luther gave Grace a reassuring smile.
    “Relax,” he said. “What could possibly go wrong?”

FORTY-TWO
    Grace stalked back across the hotel room, arms twisted around her middle. She could not seem to stop shivering. Luther had dropped her off nearly twenty minutes earlier. Surely he was inside Vivien Ryan’s suite by now. He was an ex-cop, she reminded herself. He knew what he was doing. Besides, the second act of The Magic Flute hadn’t even concluded yet. Right now the Queen was probably onstage singing her shattering aria about making her own daughter kill her father.
    There was plenty of time, Grace thought. Ryan would not leave the theater until she had received her awed fans in her dressing room. She was a diva in the truest sense of the word; she needed adulation the same way she needed oxygen. It was all there in her aura.
    Grace reached the far wall, turned and started back across the room. Why couldn’t she get rid of this terrible, creeping unease? All her senses were raw. Only deep breathing and the near-constant pacing were keeping the incipient panic attack at bay. It dawned on her that what she was experiencing was something quite new. She was used to looking out for herself. But now, for the first time since her mother had died, she was terrified