Running Hot

body?”
    Grace contemplated that for a few seconds. “If it had been me, I would have put it into the housekeeping cart and taken it out that way.”
    A round of silence greeted that statement. Wayne and Petra looked impressed.
    Grace frowned. “Did I say something?”
    “No,” Luther said before any of the others could ask Grace why she had known exactly what to do with an inconvenient body. “Moving right along, the other fact we know about our Siren is that she seems to prefer opera because it allows her the high, killer notes.”
    “Okay, that’s interesting,” Petra said. “But what does it tell us?”
    “Well, for one thing,” Grace said, “it tells us that she probably has had formal musical training. It’s not much but it’s something. By the way, there is one thing in our favor.”
    Petra raised her brows. “What?”
    “The laws of paraphysics. Psychic energy can’t be transmitted mechanically. Like the rest of us, the Siren has to project her talent in person. She can’t simply mail her victims a CD and expect them to keel over dead when they listen to her music.”
    Petra wiggled her brows at Luther. “Congratulations, I see you’ve found yourself a real glass-half-full kind of woman.”
    Luther grinned at Grace. “Yeah, I’ve turned over a new leaf. Who says I’m depressed?”

THIRTY
    Damaris came awake with the familiar panicky feeling. Something was wrong. But that wasn’t true. Everything was all right again. The Maui operation had gone off perfectly in the end. Eubanks was dead and La Sirène was back in San Francisco. Her racing heart and the breathless sensation were due to the drug. She dreaded the next injection. It was scheduled for nine a.m.
    The phone rang. She rolled onto her side and grabbed it off the bedside table. One glance at the incoming number iced her blood.
    “What is it?” she said into the phone. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing’s wrong,” La Sirène said impatiently. “Except that I’m running around like a madwoman here getting ready to fly to Acacia Bay. Dear Newlin is sending his private jet for me.” Her voice became slightly muffled as she spoke to someone else. “No, no, not those shoes, you idiot, the blue pair. Blue is my color. I’ll need them for the opening-night party.”
    Like a madwoman. Damaris shuddered, wondering if her sister had any idea just how accurate the description was. Probably not. Crazy people didn’t see themselves as crazy.
    “That’s great,” she said, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm her racing heart. “You’re going to knock ’em dead as the Queen of the Night.” She winced at her own unfortunate choice of words. “I’m looking forward to the performance. I’m sure all the most important critics will be there.”
    “Dear Newlin has promised they will be. Has Daddy found that bitch yet?”
    Damaris closed her eyes. “Vivien, please listen to me. The housekeeper isn’t important.”
    “I told you, forget the hotel maid,” La Sirène snapped. “I’m not interested in her. She’s nothing to me. I want the other woman, the one who protected the housekeeper and tried to resist my singing.”
    Damaris got to her feet, fingers clenched around the phone. “The other woman doesn’t matter, either. Let it go, Vivien. Concentrate on the Acacia Bay performance. Your career is about to take off again. You can’t afford to be distracted.”
    “Not the emeralds, you silly creature, I’ll need the sapphire-and-diamond set that dear Newlin gave me. They go with the shoes and the gown.” La Sirène’s voice grew louder as she spoke directly into the phone. “Damaris, this is the least you can do for me. Let me rephrase that. It’s the least Daddy can do for me. He owes me this much.”
    “The important thing is that the woman has no way of knowing who you are. She can’t identify you.”
    “This has nothing to do with whether she can identify me. She resisted me. I know she must be a sensitive. Don’t tell me that Daddy can’t find her.”
    “He’s still looking for her,” Damaris lied. “I’ll let you know as soon as he finds her.”
    “Promise?”
    Damaris sighed. “Promise.”
    The phone went dead. Damaris stared at it, wondering why it was vibrating. After a couple of seconds she realized that it was shaking because her hand was trembling.
    She made herself take several deep, steadying breaths and went to the window. She stood looking out at the lights of Los Angeles for a long