The Mephisto Club

them. If I’d known—”
    “Were you lovers? You and Dominic?”
    Lily’s face went white with rage. For one knife-edged moment, Jane thought the woman might actually lunge at her.
    A loud ringing suddenly cut through the silence. Everyone glanced at Sansone.
    “It’s our intruder alert,” he said, and rose to his feet. He crossed to a control panel on the wall. “There’s a breach in the garden window.”
    “Someone’s in the house?” asked Jane.
    Lily said softly, “It’s him.”
    Jeremy came into the dining room. “I just checked, Mr. Sansone. The window’s locked.”
    “Then maybe it’s just a malfunction.” Sansone looked at the others. “I think it’d be best if you all stayed right here for the moment, while I check the system.”
    “No,” said Lily, her gaze darting from doorway to doorway, as though expecting an attacker to suddenly burst through. “I’m not staying. Not in this house.”
    “You’ll be perfectly safe. We’ll protect you.”
    “And who’s going to protect
you?
” She looked around the room at Maura, Edwina, and Oliver. “Any of you? You don’t even know what you’re dealing with!”
    “Look, everyone just sit tight, okay?” said Jane. “I’ll go outside and take a look around.”
    Sansone said, “I’ll come with you.”
    Jane paused, on the verge of refusing his offer. Then she thought of Eve Kassovitz, dragged bleeding across the icy walkway, her weapon still strapped to her waist. “All right,” she said to him. “Let’s go.”
    They pulled on their coats and stepped outside. Beneath streetlamps, pools of light glistened with ice. It was a frozen world, every surface polished and gleaming like glass. Even if an intruder had walked this way, they’d see no footprints tonight. Her Maglite beam skimmed across pavement hard as diamonds. She and Sansone circled around to the iron gate and stepped through, into the narrow side yard. This was where the killer had brought down Eve Kassovitz. Along this path, he’d dragged her body, the blood from her torn scalp smearing across the granite pavers, freezing in streaks of red.
    Jane’s weapon was already out of her holster, the gun an extension of her own body, magically materializing in her grasp. She moved toward the back garden, her light slashing the shadows, the soles of her shoes skating on ice. Her beam swept across winter-shriveled wisps of ivy. She knew Sansone was right behind her, but he moved so silently she had to pause and glance over her shoulder, just to confirm that he was really there, that he was watching her back.
    She edged toward the corner of the building and swept her Maglite across the enclosed garden, across the courtyard where, only a few weeks ago, Eve had lain, her muscles stiffening, her blood freezing on the cold stones. Jane saw no movement, no hulking shadows, no demon in a black cape.
    “That’s the window?” she asked. She aimed her beam and saw light bounce back in the glass. “The one your system says was breached?”
    “Yes.”
    She crossed the courtyard for a closer look. “No screen?”
    “Jeremy takes them down for the winter.”
    “And it’s always kept latched on the inside?”
    “Always. Security is of paramount concern to us.”
    She ran the light along the sill and spotted the telltale gouge in the wood.
Fresh.
    “We’ve got a problem here,” she said softly. “Someone tried to force this.”
    He stared at the sill. “That wouldn’t have set off the alarm. The only way to do that is to actually open the window.”
    “But your butler says it’s locked on the inside.”
    “That means…” Sansone stopped. “Jesus.”
    “What?”
    “He got in and relatched it. He’s already
inside
the house!” Sansone turned and ran back along the side yard, moving so fast his shoes skidded across the walkway. He almost fell but caught himself and kept running. By the time Jane came through the front door, he was already in the dining room, urging everyone to their feet.
    “Please get your coats,” he said. “I need you all to leave the house. Jeremy, I’ll help Oliver down the steps, if you could bring the wheelchair.”
    “What on earth is going on?” asked Edwina.
    “Just do it, okay?” ordered Jane. “Grab your coats and go out the front door.”
    It was Jane’s weapon that caught their attention, the fact it was out of her holster and in her hands, a detail that screamed:
This isn’t a game; this is serious.
    Lily was the first to bolt.