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  “Damn,” Egan said, glancing at Livia with wonder on her face. “You didn’t tell me you were a prophet.”

  Livia shook her head. “I’m not. This is just some freaky coincidence.”

  “Sure, it is,” Egan said, rolling her eyes.

  Lt. Danvers emerged from a pack of press, his brows knit together.

  Livia swallowed and tried to clear her face of any emotion that might make Egan suspicious. She hardened her features, attempting to look serious.

  “Any idea who did this, Lieutenant?” Livia asked, deepening her voice, as he came to a stop in front of them.

  He shook his head. Livia tensed as he looked her up and down. “They actually think it might be arson. Can you believe that?”

  “Not for a second,” Egan mumbled. “Arson, in a morgue?”

  “You look like shit,” he said, staring at Livia with more than professional interest.

  Livia frowned. “That wasn’t my question, but thanks.”

  He didn’t back down. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Livia took a step back when he reached for her. Egan watched them both, her face unreadable.

  Shrugging, Livia folded her arms across her chest. “I’m fine. I just had a rough night.” She shivered, feeling ice cold. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest.

  Egan yawned. “I’ll be back,” she said. “I want to see if I can find any clues.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Rion said, following her.

  Livia nodded, grateful for the privacy. The moment Egan was gone, Lieutenant Danvers took her by the chin and examined her face. With his touch, she warmed and wanted to just melt into his arms and bask in his protection—if only for a little while. But, there were other cops around, as well as firemen and the press. She knew better than to show just how vulnerable she felt.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said, lowering his voice to a gentle tone that made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and weep.

  “Just a bad night. Nightmares. Crazy stuff you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” he said, tenderly. Too tender. It started to break down her walls.

  Livia hesitated as she considered his eyes. Why did he have to be so attractive and sweet?

  “Unbelievably, I dreamed about this fire,” she said. “Only hours ago.”

  He lifted a brow. “What do you think it means?”

  “I wish I knew,” Livia said and chewed the corner of her bottom lip. “I could use just one night of peace. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

  “Hey, I know you’re still thinking about that woman you had to kill at the prison.”

  “She wasn’t just a woman. She had some freaky abilities.”

  “So, you say. All I’m saying is don’t blame yourself. You were doing your job.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Livia said. “Besides, that’s not what I’m doing. This is something different. The nightmare about this fire…It’s something else entirely.”

  “Then, talk to me.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m tired. I’m scared. I want to be free of this.”

  Danvers nodded. “See, that’s a good start. If you can’t talk to me then what we have is nothing more than a fling.”

  Livia lifted her eyes to his. “What do you want it to be?”

  He shrugged. “I think you know the answer to that question already.”

  Silent, Livia searched his face. He wanted her. Not just her body, but all of her. She stepped away.

  “No,” she whispered. “I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I will ever be.”

  Saying those words hurt. Not just Danvers, but Livia’s heart. The moment she spoke them, she knew they were lies.

  Before Danvers could reply, Egan and Rion returned.

  Livia looked away, tears burning her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve.

  Egan shot a glare at Danvers and took Livia by the hand. “What happened?”

  Livia shook her head, forcing a smile. “Nothing. I’m just exhausted. So, what did you find in the debris?”

  Egan stared at her for a moment.

  Livia could sense her formulating her own ideas about her conversation with Danvers. It left her feeling vulnerable.

  “You won’t believe this,” Rion said, as if oblivious to the exchange happening.

  “What’s up?” Danvers asked, shifting to stand beside Livia. He pulled his TechNote from his back pocket, and poised his hand over the display.

  Rion blew out of the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “There’s not a single body in there.”

  “What?” Danvers asked.

  “That’s right,” Rion said.

  Livia frowned and narrowed her eyes as she looked at the destruction before her. “So, what happened to her body?” she asked under her breath. “The body of the woman I killed?”

  “She’s gone. No one’s left in there.” Rion shook his head.

  A sudden chill overtook her. What if she’s coming for me?

  “Are you okay?” Danvers stepped closer, still clutching his TechNote.

  She moved close enough to touch, but not so close as to look obvious. “I’m fine. What do you want us to do next?”

  He scanned his notation device. “Why don’t you head over to the Chambers’ and ask them some questions. Officer Wallis informed them of their son’s death. Maybe you can see about his connection with the dead woman. Rion and I will see to the destruction here.”

  Rion nodded. “I’m sure there’s some DNA samples somewhere in the debris.”

  Livia glanced at Egan. I hate questioning those who have recently lost a loved one.

  Me, too. But let’s get it over with. Unless there’s something else you need to do? Egan’s gaze slid between her and Danvers. Her mouth turned down in a frown.

  Livia quickly stepped away. “No, no. Let’s go where we’re needed most.” She gave a wan smile at Egan and let her attention wander in Danvers’ direction. Even though I need his arms around me, letting me know everything’s going to be okay. The same chill as before rocked her insides. Renner’s on the loose, a woman I killed has disappeared…nothing about the facts of this case were close to okay.

  Egan

  Outside the burning remains of the morgue, stomping her feet to stay warm in the chilly air, Egan ticked off “things that sucked” on her fingers. The first was watching a building burn to the ground—a building her best friend had predicted would burn and nearly lost her life in the foretelling. Questioning suspects whose loved one had been murdered? That sucked big, fat monkey balls. She blew out a huge sigh.

  “Which one of us gets to question the Chambers about their son’s connection with Alicia? Rock, paper, scissors?” She yawned.

  The stress of the long day called its siren song to her, beckoning her to go home and get some rest. Opening her eyes wide and blinking, she shook her head, trying to stay alert.

  “I vote you,” Livia said, not meeting her gaze. Instead, her attention kept surreptitiously sliding toward Danvers who talked to another officer near the charred remains of the morgue.

  Egan stabbed her finger in Danvers’ direction. “I vote him. He’s a man. Men are excellent about delivering bad news and not flinching.”

  Livia didn’t respond. Instead, her gaze drifted like feathers in the wind, toward Danvers.

  “Livia,” Egan said.

  “Uh huh,” Livia said distractedly, her eyes glued to the Lieutenant.

  “Livia!” Egan snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face.

  “What?” Livia’s eyes flashed as they swung to meet Egan’s.

  Egan’s lips fell together in a line. “We need to head over to the Chambers and ask them about their whereabouts on the night of Jason’s death. Ask them a few questions. Like that, remember?”

  “You already said that.”

  “And then you drifted into bed with our Lieutenant.”

  Livia’s face grew red. “I did not.”
r />   “Well, where’d you go, then?”

  “I…we…I don’t want to talk about it.” Livia turned and began marching toward Egan’s car, her heels clacking against the sidewalk.

  Egan lunged after her, seizing Livia’s arm. “Since when do you and I not talk about things?”

  Livia brushed her aside. “Since things became complicated, that’s when. You know what growing up at Psi-3891 did to our ability to form lasting relationships.”

  “Ohhhh.” Egan drew the word out. “So, that’s what this is about.” She put her arm around Livia. “I do know. You know I know. But you and I have made a lasting lifetime friendship. Who says you can’t have that with a guy?”

  Livia’s eyes met hers, looking hopeful. She gave a wan smile. “Thanks, Egan. Who does say that, anyway?”

  “That’s my girl.” Egan squeezed her shoulder. “Now that we’ve solved that, which one of us gets to question the Chambers?”

  “Ugh. Let’s do it together.”

  They clambered inside Egan’s Corvette and drove to the Chambers’ estate in silence. Egan chewed on the idea of Livia and the lieutenant. While she wanted her friend to be happy…Lieutenant Danvers? The idea didn’t exactly evoke warm and fuzzy feelings. She imagined hearing them screwing in Livia’s bedroom. Or, hanging out in the living room while she scurried to get to her room, away from all that lovey-dovey goo-goo nonsense. And then, seeing Danvers at work, trying to pretend she hadn’t seen his black boxers in the dryer or didn’t know he shouted “holy mother of god,” when he came.

  When they pulled up to the curb, outside the seven-million-dollar townhouse in the Lenox Hill neighborhood, overlooking Central Park, Egan muttered, “I hate rich people.”

  “I don’t.” Livia let out a laugh. “Especially when they’re single.”

  Egan snorted. “Says the woman who’s in a twist about one guy in particular.”

  “Says the woman who lives in a penthouse,” Livia shot back with a grin.

  “That’s different. I’m an ordinary girl.”

  Livia let out a genuine belly laugh, complete with snorts. “Stop. You’re killing me.”

  “Get a hold of yourself.” Egan smirked, set the parking brake, and climbed out of the car. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “Okay, I get good cop, you get bad cop.”

  She grinned.

  “Hey! You know I suck at bad cop.”

  “Give it your best shot.”

  They stepped across the sidewalk and climbed the stone steps to the four-story mansion, complete with Italianate facade.

  Egan pressed the gilded doorbell. She hung back from the door, hands clasped, admiring the street-lit, tree-lined park across the street, until the front door swung open.

  A forgettable looking pale-faced butler, with a military-grade haircut, wearing a ho-hum beige suit and tie, greeted them formally and then led them to a relatively small alcove.

  They perched on the satin, striped armchairs and waited.

  Egan looked around the room, wrinkling her nose. “Can you believe this place? Can you spell pretension, boys and girls? Ugh.”

  “Yes, it’s not my style, that’s for sure,” Livia said, her hands folded primly in her lap. “Turn of the century furnishings have never been my thing.”

  A few minutes later, the butler returned. “The Chambers will see you now.”

  Egan rolled her eyes and stood.

  They were led upstairs to a cozy seating area. Comfortable brown leather sofa and chairs were arranged in a semi-circle facing a fireplace. A heavy, brocade gold curtain had been pulled back, revealing a small, well-tended garden outside the huge arched window. A gigantic framed photo of a laughing Hindu holy man hung over the mantle. The man looked skeletal, like he hadn’t eaten for weeks. He held some sort of beaded bracelet in his hands as he stood, looking out in a forever kind of way, at nothing.

  Egan nudged Livia with her elbow and tilted her head slightly toward the picture. She raised her eyebrows in a “what the hell” expression.

  Livia’s left shoulder rose and fell.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” Mr. Forgettable said, as he backed out of the room.

  “Will do,” Egan said, giving him a thumbs-up. After the butler had closed the double doors, she said, “Let’s stand.”

  “I agree.”

  Egan stepped closer to the picture, studying it in detail.

  “I see you like Krishnakaya,” a smooth female voice said. “He’s my spiritual adviser.”

  Egan turned her head toward the voice, immediately recognizing Alethia Chambers. Coiffed brunette hair and artfully applied make-up, complete with painted eyebrows, sleek apricot linen pantsuit, down to the pastel Jimmy Choo’s gliding across the floor…Egan figured it must take Mrs. Chambers close to two hours to get dressed. She strode toward her and took her proffered hand. It felt as cool and listless as the light blue eyes regarding her.

  “I’m Alethia Chambers. I prefer to be called Mrs. Chambers. Bryant—Mr. Chambers—will be in shortly. He’s consoling Alexandria, Jason’s fiancée.”

  Livia’s thoughts rang through her mind, as clearly as if she’d spoken them aloud. Shouldn’t you be doing the consoling?

  Egan flashed her a knowing smirk.

  “Please….” Mrs. Chambers hand swept toward the chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  “We’ll stand, thanks.” Egan scrutinized Mrs. Chambers.

  Her perfectly painted lips pressed together. She settled onto the sofa in a practiced gesture. “Can I ring Albert to get you anything?”

  “Don’t bother. This will be brief.”

  Mrs. Chambers let out a sigh, her posture sagging. Then, gathering herself together, she sat stiffly upright. She looked toward the door, perhaps hoping for rescue.

  A few minutes of awkward silence later, Congressman Bryant Chambers, a good-looking man in his early fifties, strode through the double doors, his arm wrapped tightly around the stunning socialite, Alexandria.

  Although well-dressed and perfectly groomed, Alexandria appeared out of it, like she’d been on a bender. Her eyes looked red and glazed. Strain showed in the tight lines at the corners of her mouth.

  “What’s the meaning of this intrusion? Can’t you see we’re going through enough heartache?” Bryant spoke like a general.

  Rising to her feet like a silken scarf being pushed by wind, Mrs. Chambers hushed her husband.

  “Bryant,” she said, her voice hinting at sharp reprove.

  “What?” His brown eyes flashed as he looked at her. “Settle down.”

  Mrs. Chamber sat like a scolded child, resuming her seat on the couch.

  “Can’t you see the state she’s in?” He stepped behind Alexandria and put his hands on her shoulders, as if providing proof to a courtroom. Then, he tugged her close, kissing the top of her head, before leading her to the sofa to sit next to his wife.

  Livia sent Egan a telepathic communication. Wow. Are you catching this, Egan?

  Yeah. I think big daddy puppet master’s using his power tools to console the poor fiancée. Egan folded her arms across her chest.

  Livia started to laugh, but managed to cover it with a cough.

  Mrs. Chambers scooted closer to Alexandria.

  Bryant sat on her other side.

  Mrs. Chambers patted Alexandria’s St. John pant-suited leg. “It will be okay, dear.”

  Alexandria leaned forward, clearly uncomfortable at being a pawn in whatever twisted game the Chambers’s were playing.

  Bryant placed his hand behind her back, still claiming ownership. His other hand gestured toward the chairs, and he said, “Sit.”

  Woof. Livia shot her one-word thought toward Egan’s mind.

  Egan forcefully cleared her throat to keep from laughing. “Thanks, we’ll stand. We only need to ask you a few questions. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Good,” he said. “Alexandria needs to rest.”

  Rest. So that’s what we’re calling it. Livia
rolled her eyes.

  Stop! Egan could barely keep it together.

  “You know, a glass of water would be fantastic,” Egan said to Mrs. Chambers, trying to distract herself. She met Livia’s eyes. Let’s hear what these two have to say so we can compare it with Mrs. Chambers’ version.

  Livia gave a nod.

  Mrs. Chambers practically leaped from the sofa, no doubt eager for something to do.

  “We only need to follow up on something,” Livia said. “We got the toxicology report from the medical examiner today.”

  “Yeah. Jason’s bloodstream was full of an exotic drug,” Egan added.

  “That’s impossible!” Alexandria arched away from Bryant.

  “There, there,” he soothed. He put his hand on her shoulder and forced her toward him. “They’re probably lying.”

  She wriggled her shoulders, shrinking away from his hand. “Why would they lie?”

  “Right, Bryant? Why would we lie about something like a toxicology report?” Livia said, sashaying toward him, using her best rolling gait.

  Egan shook her head.

  Bryant’s eyebrows shot up with interest at the oncoming eye candy. His tongue darted out and licked his lips before answering.

  “Because you’re the police,” he managed, tearing his gaze away from Livia’s curvy hips.

  “We’re consultants,” Egan said, striding to stand beside her partner. She and Livia loomed over him.

  Bryant leaned back into the sofa, tugging Alexandria with him. He crossed his ankle over his knee, trying to look casual. One of his fingers slid under his collar and he tugged at it, as if needing air.

  Alexandria straightened her shoulders. “There’s no way Jason could be using again. I’d know it. I’m a recovering addict. Three years sober. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

  Egan pictured the blonde sticking her tongue down Jason’s throat. “You’d be surprised. He was seen with another woman at a club. Akeldama. You know the one?”

  “She knows it,” Bryant said, side-eying Alexandria. His fingers wrapped around her forearm. “But she never goes there.”

  Alexandria’s eyes flashed with hurt, then defiance. She wriggled away from Bryant, bolting to her feet until she was practically nose to nose with Egan.