Sizzle and Burn

fall.”
    “For trying to kidnap me?”
    “No,” Zack said. “For staging those spectacular murders that she wrote about in her books.”
    “Good grief. Cassidy killed those people herself?”
    “And then set up the suspects for the police to find, according to Niki.”
    Horror shot through Raine. “Those people who were arrested for those ghastly murders—they’re all innocent?”
    “According to Niki they are.” Zack smiled slightly. “Luckily, thanks to the molasses-like speed of the criminal justice system, none of them has made it as far as the death chamber. You’d better believe Mitchell is excited.”
    “I’ll bet he is. If Niki told him the truth, he’s just been handed the career-making case of the decade. There’s a book and probably a movie deal, as well, in this thing.”
    “He said Plumer gave him more than enough to open an investigation. With luck and maybe a little discreet help from J&J, in a few months Mitchell will be the hero who solved several front-page crimes and got some innocent people out of jail.”
    “Amazing.” She had been dreading the return to Shelbyville for the entire drive from Oriana but now she was suddenly feeling a lot more cheerful. “I sure hope Niki wasn’t lying.”
    “I think there’s a good chance she was telling the truth.” Zack unfastened his seat belt and reached into the backseat for his jacket. He pulled it on over his shoulder holster. “She didn’t have any motive to implicate herself in those murders.”
    “Good point.” She unclipped her own seat belt, grabbed her long black raincoat and opened the door. “On that note, let’s go see if I’m right about Wilder Jones’s mask.”
    They walked quickly through the misty rain toward the entrance to the house. It was colder than it had been the last time she was there, Raine thought. The looming trees whispered in anticipation of snow.
    A strip of shredded crime-scene tape fluttered from one of the posts that supported the roof over the front door. Raine paused on the step and dug out her keys.
    “You’re sure it’s okay to go inside?” she asked.
    “When I called Langdon this morning he said the forensics people had finished. He didn’t have any problem with us going back into the house.”
    She opened the door. Cold shadows illuminated the small entry hall.
    Zack looked around curiously. “Where did you pick up the bad vibes last time?”
    “The kitchen and the basement. The killer used the back door.”
    They went past the fireplace that Vella had never used and up the stairs to the second floor. Because of her injured ankle, Raine was forced to use the banister to steady herself. She dimmed her senses as much as possible. Nevertheless, she would have preferred not to touch the wood with her bare hand. Although Vella had not left any intense hot spots, the heavily used surfaces in the house, such as railings and doorknobs, resonated faintly with the disturbing echoes generated by years of her depression, anxiety and despair.
    Zack put his hand on the banister and immediately withdrew it. “I can see why you don’t like this house very much.”
    “I wish I could sell it quickly but I’m afraid that’s going to be next to impossible now. Unfortunately, the taxes don’t stop just because the owner is deceased.”
    “Tell your real estate agent to look for a client who is interested only in the property, one who won’t mind tearing down the house and building a new one.”
    “Good idea,” she said.
    “You won’t get nearly as much for the place, probably a fraction of its worth, but at least you’ll be out from under the taxes.”
    “That’s all I care about now.”
    She hobbled to the top of the stairs and limped down the hall to the bedroom that Vella had used. The door stood ajar. She pushed it open and went inside.
    The interior of the small room was even gloomier than the rest of the house. The drapes were drawn across the windows. Raine reached out to flip on the lights, automatically bracing herself for the psychic static she knew would be clinging to the switch.
    Zack’s hand closed abruptly around her wrist, stopping her. Startled, she turned toward him, mouth open to ask why he did not want the lights.
    He shook his head once and put his fingertips to her lips.
    Then she, too, heard the faint sound from downstairs. Someone had opened the kitchen door. Tension sizzled through her. Instinctively her parasenses opened wide.
    “Miss Tallentyre?” Doug