Sizzle and Burn

Robin and Batman uneasily.
    Niki was taller than Cassidy and a few years older, probably thirty-six or thirty-seven. She was dressed in a rumpled-looking pantsuit. Tortoiseshell glasses framed her dark eyes. She clutched a heavy-looking leather briefcase in one hand and wore a perpetually harried air.
    Raine scooped up Batman and Robin. “I’ll put them in the library,” she said.
    “Oh, please don’t worry about the cats,” Cassidy said quickly.
    “I’ll be right back,” Raine assured her.
    Niki gave her a pathetically grateful look.
    She hurried down the hall and deposited Batman and Robin in the library. They were not pleased.
    When she returned to the living room, Cassidy and Niki were seated on the sofa.
    “I’ll get some coffee,” Zack said.
    Cassidy turned to Raine.
    “Bradley has told me so much about you,” she said. “I’m thrilled to meet you. I’ve never talked to a genuine psychic before. Bradley says you do amazing things at crime scenes.”
    Out of the corner of her eye Raine saw Zack emerge from the kitchen. She knew he was working hard to conceal his amusement. She ignored him and Cassidy’s comment.
    “What can I do for you?” she asked, keeping her voice smooth and cool.
    “I apologize for showing up unannounced like this,” Cassidy said. “As I just told Mr. Jones, I hope I’m not interrupting breakfast. I took a chance coming here early today because I wanted to catch you before you went to work. Bradley mentioned that you own a costume rental shop here in town.”
    “You want my help with the book you’re writing about Bradley,” Raine said.
    Cassidy did not seem the least bit disconcerted by the directness of the statement.
    “Yes, I do,” she said, assuming a more businesslike tone. “What’s more, I’m prepared to make it worth your while.” Her brows rose in gentle disapproval. “I understand that Bradley never compensated you for assisting him with those cold cases.”
    “I didn’t do it for the money,” Raine said quickly.
    “Obviously. But I believe in paying for services rendered. And, believe me, given the advance my agent got for this book, I can afford to make it worth your while to take part in the project.”
    “I’m a little busy at the moment, Miss Cutler.”
    “I understand. Bradley told me that there was a recent death in the family. Please accept my condolences.”
    “Thank you.”
    Cassidy folded her hands in her lap and looked at Raine with a very serious expression. “I also realize that you use your psychic talents not for money but because you feel a responsibility to help the families of the victims find closure. All I’m asking is that you help Bradley give that peace of mind to the Dellingham family. You are the only one with the power to do it.”
    The damn guilt card, Raine thought.
    “I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now,” she said. She knew she sounded weak.
    Righteous indignation seemed to crackle through Cassidy. Her chin came up, her shoulders stiffened and steel glinted in her eyes. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what the Dellingham family has heard from law enforcement for the past five years, Raine. Are you going to shatter their hopes again?”
    Raine snapped out of her guilt trance. She smiled coolly. “We just went over the part where you stand to make a lot of money on this book project, remember? That’s the real reason you’re here today, isn’t it?”
    Cassidy’s mouth tightened. “I won’t deny that I make money on my books, but that isn’t the main reason I write them. I would have written crime fiction, not true crime, if money was the only thing that interested me. I write my books for the same reason that you assist Bradley. I, too, feel compelled to speak for the forgotten victims.”
    Another wave of guilt rolled through Raine. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t have a personal interest in the cases.”
    Cassidy’s expression softened. “There’s another reason I do what I do. We, as a society, need to examine criminal behavior and figure out ways to identify and deal with vicious psychopaths before they slaughter their victims. Do you know what Lynda Dellingham’s murder did to that family? It absolutely shattered those poor people.”
    “I’m not saying that you don’t have a calling to write true crime,” Raine said hastily. Damn it, she was feeling the pressure, the way she had when Bradley tried to talk her into helping