Sizzle and Burn

them.”
    He exhaled slowly. “You’re right.”
    “The girl was found in my house, a witch’s house. He knows that I’m the witch’s niece. That makes me a witch, as well. Last but not least, he knows that I was there when his victim was discovered. The upshot is that he holds me personally responsible for ruining his latest witch hunt.”
    “Any other traces here in your condo?”
    “No. I did a quick tour while I was waiting for you.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t have a good look around.”
    “I doubt if he stayed for more than a few minutes. Too risky.” He took out his phone.
    “Who are you going to call?” she asked.
    “First guy on my list is Chief Langdon in Shelbyville. Got a number for him?”
    “Yes, but why bother?” She swept out an arm. “We haven’t got a scrap of proof. Langdon made it very clear that he doesn’t believe in psychics. What’s more, I got the distinct impression that he thinks I’m a leather-and-whip-style bitch. I don’t think he cares for that type.”
    “Obviously a man of limited imagination. Get me the number.”
    She rewarded that with the severe glare he no doubt deserved but she obediently reached into the closet and took out her purse. He watched her dig out a card.
    “Personal issues aside,” she said, handing him the card, “all we’ve got in the way of hard evidence is that fragment of a teacup, which proves nothing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Langdon concludes that I broke the stupid cup and brought the pieces back with me so I could stage an attention-getting scene for the media. I could tell when I talked to him that he was just waiting for me to claim to be psychic.”
    “But you didn’t give him the satisfaction?”
    “Are you kidding? If I pushed that angle, he wouldn’t have listened to anything at all that I had to say about the killer. As it was, I’m pretty sure he thought I invented everything I did tell him.”
    “I’ll call him, anyway. He may not pay attention but he can’t say that he wasn’t kept informed.” He punched in the number on the card.
    A gruff, sleep-heavy voice answered on the fourth ring.
    “Langdon here.”
    “Wake up, Chief. Looks like your killer was in Oriana tonight.”
    “Who the hell are you?” Langdon was fully awake now.
    “Zack Jones. I’m a private investigator.” It was his standard ID when he was on a case and it was true. He had the license to prove it. All J&J agents did. The agency was a legitimate firm, duly registered as such in every state in which it maintained an office.
    He gave Langdon a terse version of events.
    Langdon was not impressed.
    “You’re telling me that Miss Tallentyre believes the killer followed her back to Oriana just because she found part of a broken cup in her coat pocket?” he asked.
    “She didn’t break it herself,” Zack said patiently.
    “How do you know that?”
    “I’m very sure of it.”
    “Is she your client?” Langdon asked, suspicious.
    “Yes.”
    “Then you’ve got a reason to believe her. I don’t. I’ve got a lot of solid leads to follow up. I can’t waste time.”
    “The freak was in her condo tonight.”
    “Why would he focus on her?” Langdon demanded.
    “Excellent question.”
    “Look, as far as the media is concerned, Doug Spicer, the real estate agent, was the one who was responsible for finding the girl. I didn’t give Miss Tallentyre’s name to the press.”
    “Shelbyville is a very small town, Chief. Everyone there knows that she was with Spicer when the girl was found. More to the point, the girl was found in her aunt’s house. It makes sense that the killer would aim his rage at her. Although, come to think of it, you might want to check on Spicer and make sure he’s okay. It’s possible he’s in danger, too.”
    “I’m not buying any of this,” Langdon said wearily, “but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call that detective with the Oriana PD and ask him to stop by Miss Tallentyre’s place tomorrow and check out the broken cup.”
    That was as good as it was going to get. At least Bradley Mitchell would be predisposed to believe Raine.
    “Thanks,” he made himself say, employing an unbelievable amount of willpower to remain civil.
    “No offense, Jones, but your client is a strange woman. Got a feeling the polite term is unbalanced .”
    “Good night, Chief.”
    He ended the call without waiting for a response and looked at Raine. “He’s going to have