Sizzle and Burn by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

whirled around and pressed her ear to the panel.
    The door opened in the outer room.
    “Sorry,” Bradley said, startled. “Wrong room. Could have sworn the guy at the front desk said number six.”
    “Looking for someone?” Zack asked a little too helpfully.
    “A woman. Must be the door across the hall.”
    “There’s a woman in this room,” Zack assured him. “Raine’s in the bathroom at the moment, about to take a shower. We just got up.”
    “Raine Tallentyre?” Bradley was uncharacteristically flustered. “She’s here?”
    “Right,” Zack said. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go back downstairs? I’ll let Raine know you’re here. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll meet you in the lobby after she gets out of the shower.”
    “Listen, I don’t know who the hell you are, but I can tell something’s wrong here. I’m Bradley Mitchell with the—”
    “Oriana PD. I know. Nice badge, by the way.”
    “I want to speak to Raine,” Bradley said. “Now.”
    Raine winced. Bradley was using his hard cop voice. That was not good.
    “Is this police business or personal?” Zack asked, politely curious.
    “This is official business.”
    “In that case, maybe she should talk to her lawyer first.”
    “That’s enough, I’m coming in.”
    “I don’t think so.” Zack’s voice was suddenly ice cold.
    “I don’t know who the hell you are,” Bradley growled, “but as far as I’m concerned, I’ve got probable cause to think you may have harmed Raine Tallentyre. Get out of my way.”
    So much for her little moment of feminine revenge. The adrenaline and testosterone in the other room had reached toxic levels. It was time to intervene.
    With a tiny sigh of regret because she had just begun to enjoy herself, she opened the bathroom door and put her head around it.
    “Bradley,” she said brightly. “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing here in Shelbyville?”
    Bradley looked past Zack, staring at her. Confusion and anger tightened his photogenic features. He looked like a homicide cop off a television series: hard-eyed and square-jawed. His dark hair was just long enough to touch the back of his collar. This morning he was dressed in jeans, an open-throated shirt and a slouchy sports jacket.
    “What the hell is going on, Raine?” he asked. He seemed mesmerized by the sight of her in her robe. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she assured him. She folded her arms and lounged in the doorway, going for total nonchalance. “What are you doing here?”
    “I got a call from the local chief.” Bradley frowned. “Guy named Langdon. He told me that you and some real estate agent found one of the Bonfire Killer’s victims in your aunt’s basement. That right?”
    “Yes. I gave the chief your number as a reference. I thought that would be the easiest way of staying off the list of suspects. Do you mind if we talk about this later? I’m headed into the shower.”
    Bradley flicked a suspicious glance at Zack. “Who’s he?”
    “A friend,” she said. She couldn’t resist giving him her special smile.
    “Good friend,” Zack corrected helpfully. “The name’s Jones. Zack Jones. By the way, does it piss you off when she smiles at you like that? It sure pisses me off when she does it to me.”
    Bradley rounded on him, looking ready to explode.
    “Please go downstairs, Bradley,” Raine said quickly. “I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”
    Bradley’s face tightened further but it was obvious he was out of practical options.
    “Twenty minutes,” he said.
    “Or thereabouts,” she said sweetly.
    Without another word, he turned and stalked off toward the staircase. Zack closed the door very gently behind him and looked at her.
    “I’m guessing the two of you did more than just find a few bodies and track down some killers together,” he said without inflection.
    “Not a great deal more,” she said, choosing her words with exacting care. “My fault.”
    “What went wrong?”
    “I’m what went wrong. Bradley and I had a nice little friendship thing going on. I made the mistake of