Sizzle and Burn

and scholarly journals. He was the director of St. Damian’s Psychiatric Hospital. Over the course of the year that Vella had been a patient at the hospital Raine had come to like and respect him.
    He was a compassionate man steeped in traditional medical and psychiatric practices. She knew that he’d never had a clue as to the true nature of Vella’s mental illness. To fully comprehend her pathology, he would have been forced to believe that Vella possessed psychic senses. Raine knew that he had never been able to make that leap. To the end Ogilvey had considered Vella’s claim of hearing voices a symptom of her illness.
    Nevertheless his approach to what had to have been one of his more unusual and challenging cases had been surprisingly open-minded and wide-ranging. It had included nutritional aspects such as vitamin supplements as well as cutting-edge psychotropic medications, traditional talk therapy and, above all, a tranquil environment. Raine knew that she would always be grateful to him. Ogilvey had done what she and Gordon and Andrew had been unable to do on their own in the past year. He had given Vella a degree of mental and emotional peace for the first time in years.
    He had clearly been surprised to see Raine and Zack walk into his office a short time before but he had offered condolences again.
    “I understand that you are still grieving,” Ogilvey said to Raine. He folded his hands on the desk and studied her through a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. “Sometimes the process makes us demand answers where there are none, at least none that the medical world can provide. You might want to consider consulting a religious or spiritual adviser.”
    “We’re not here to ask those kinds of questions,” Raine said quickly. “We want to know more about what happened the night my aunt died.”
    Ogilvey began to look troubled. “As I recall, you requested and were given a copy of the file relating to your aunt’s case.”
    Zack looked at him. “We know that Vella Tallentyre suffered cardiac arrest shortly before midnight. We also know that extreme resuscitation attempts were made but failed. We’re not questioning the cause of death or your staff’s efforts to revive her.”
    Ogilvey frowned, bewildered. “Then what do you want from me?”
    “We’d like to talk to the members of your staff who had contact with Vella during the twenty-four hours before her death,” Zack said.
    There was an edge to his voice. Raine knew that it wasn’t just because he was now in full investigator mode. Like her, he was dealing with the swirling chaos of psychic energy that permeated the lobby and the office. Like any hospital, St. Damian’s had absorbed the psychical essence of desperation, fear, anxiety, rage, pain and just plain craziness given off by patients and their families over the years. The energy had literally soaked into the very walls.
    Ogilvey stiffened in reaction to Zack’s tone. “Surely you don’t expect me to subject the members of my staff to questioning by a private investigator? If you suspect criminal negligence, there are procedures that must be followed.”
    “No,” Raine said, interrupting before Zack could alarm Ogilvey any further. “That’s not what this is about. We understand that you have an obligation to protect your staff. But, as you probably realize, I have been dealing with my aunt’s estate for the past month and certain questions have arisen.”
    Ogilvey was watching her with grave caution now. She knew he was giving serious consideration to calling his lawyer. At this rate she and Zack would soon be asked to leave.
    “You should be able to answer the single most important question we have,” Zack said. “Did Vella Tallentyre have any visitors on the day of her death?”
    Ogilvey hesitated, dubious but uncertain.
    Raine leaned forward earnestly. “Please, Dr. Ogilvey. It’s very important. I know you keep careful records. As far as I am aware, in the year that my aunt was here at St. Damian’s the only people who came to see her aside from me were Gordon Salazar and Andrew Kitredge. We always had to sign in and show identification.”
    “The family has a right to know if the patient received any other visitors,” Zack said with an air of quiet authority.
    Ogilvey’s jaw flexed but he nodded once, brusquely. “Yes, I can give you that information.” He punched the intercom on his desk. “Mrs. Thomas, would you please bring in the log of all visitors who