Sizzle and Burn

same day that Aunt Vella died.”
    The kitchen had been remodeled recently. It gleamed with the latest in high-tech appliances. The old countertops had been replaced with green granite and the cabinet doors were fitted with sparkling glass fronts.
    No amount of superficial change could alter the feeling Raine got whenever she walked into the room. This was home. Although, growing up, she and Vella had lived across the street, the truth was that she had spent most of her time here, wrapping herself in the security and warmth that Andrew and Gordon provided. She had done her homework and learned to bake cookies in this kitchen.
    She and Zack had arrived in Oriana a few hours before. The invitation to dinner had come as soon as she called Gordon to tell him what was going on.
    “Bring him over for dinner tonight,” Gordon said.
    “But you two are busy packing for that travel convention,” she reminded him. “You have to leave for the airport at five in the morning. You don’t want to entertain us tonight.”
    “If you think we’re leaving town without checking out your Mr. Jones, think again.”
    Zack had taken the summons to dinner with surprising equanimity. “They want to get a look at me. That’s what families do.”
    Raine had experienced a little rush of pride and satisfaction when he said that. She had a family, just like he did. True, hers consisted of only two people, neither of whom shared any of her DNA, but that didn’t matter. The three of them were linked together with other kinds of bonds. Tonight her clan was circling the wagons, gathering protectively around her, sending a not-so-subtle message to Zack. Andrew and Gordon were making sure he knew that she was not alone, not vulnerable.
    The saffron-scented aroma of the paella wafted out of the open oven. Raine sniffed appreciatively.
    “Smells great,” she said.
    “It’s coming along nicely.” Andrew closed the oven door. “The rice is almost done. Another ten minutes and I’ll toss in the shrimp and clams.”
    In his late fifties, with a receding hairline, he was a neatly made man, trim and distinguished.
    “I can’t believe that after all these years, J&J is suddenly interested in you,” he said.
    “It’s not me they’re interested in,” she said. “All they care about is their missing researcher. They’re trying to track him down.”
    “The way they tracked down your father?” Andrew said, his face grim.
    “Yes.” She opened a drawer and took out a whisk. “They gave me a file to read. I have to admit that it does look like Dad was involved in some potentially dangerous research.”
    “Doesn’t matter, Raine. J&J isn’t the FBI. It’s nothing more than a private investigation firm. It doesn’t have the legal authority to invade a man’s private property and destroy it.”
    “I know.”
    “I just can’t see any way Vella’s death could be connected to that missing researcher. Not after all these years.”
    “You have to admit it’s a little weird that he was here in town on that day.”
    Andrew’s eyes tightened with disapproval and concern. “I don’t like any of this, Raine. Jones makes me very uneasy.”
    “You don’t like him?” she asked, paying close attention because, although Andrew claimed no psychic gifts, he was an excellent judge of people.
    “To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of him.” Andrew picked up the wineglass on the counter and took a sip of the expensive cabernet. He lowered the glass. “He’s not anything like Bradley, though, is he?”
    “No.”
    “I could tell that much just meeting him tonight. With Bradley, everything is on the surface. But Zack is a thousand miles deep. You only see what he wants you to see.” Andrew looked at her. “He’s a lot like you in that regard.”
    Raine focused on whisking the rich balsamic vinegar into the pricey olive oil that Andrew insisted on using for everything from cooking to salad dressings.
    “If I was a bad guy,” she said, thinking about it, “I wouldn’t want either one of them on my trail.”
    “But of the two of them, which one would you worry about the most?”
    Raine stopped whisking. “Okay, now that’s a strange question.”
    “Got an answer?”
    She shrugged. “I’d worry more about Zack.”
    “Why?”
    She tapped the whisk lightly against the bowl. “Probably because I know he wouldn’t quit, even if the trail went cold on him. Bradley would be more pragmatic. He’d cut his losses and go look for