for working alone?”
“No.”
Judson’s irritation was palpable. “You can read that kind of personality trait in an aura?”
“I didn’t get that information from your aura.” She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “Five minutes in your company was more than enough to reveal that aspect of your character, believe me.”
She jumped down and slammed the car door a little harder than was necessary.
* * *
J UDSON CRACKED OPEN the driver’s-side door and got out. Together they went up the steps, crossed the porch and stopped at the door.
He watched her take the key out of her tote. When she got the door open, he moved into the front hall ahead of her. Energy whispered in the atmosphere, cold and intense. She knew that he had heightened his talent.
“The electricity is still on,” she said. She stepped into the hall behind him and flipped a switch, illuminating the small space. “No need to work in the dark.”
“Which way?”
“Down the hall to your right.”
Judson moved along the hallway. “What happened to the Ballinger study?”
“Evelyn stopped it after the second member of the study group was found dead. She realized that something awful was happening, and she sensed that it was connected to her research.”
“I’m going to want to hear about the three people who died two years ago,” he said. “Especially how you came to find the bodies.”
She had known this was coming, she reminded herself. She was prepared.
“I assumed you would want the details,” she said.
He looked back over his shoulder. “Show me where you found Ballinger’s body.”
“All right, but I think I should show you this picture first.” She took a photo out of her tote and handed it to him. “I found this on the floor beside her this morning. I’m not sure what to make of it but I think it might be important.”
Judson studied the photo. “I recognize you. Who are the others?”
“It’s a group shot of the members of Evelyn’s research study. She kept it thumbtacked to her bulletin board. The fact that it had been ripped off the board and dropped on the floor bothered me for some reason.”
“Ballinger is not in the picture.”
“She was the one who took the photo. Three of the people in that picture are dead. Mary Henderson, the blonde on the left, Ben Schwartz, the man standing next to her, and Zander Taylor. Taylor is the good-looking dark-haired man in the first row.”
“You’re standing next to a serial killer.”
She shuddered. “Don’t remind me. His goal was to take us down in the order in which we were posed in the picture. It was all a game to him. He was annoyed because he had to make me his third target. He said I had interfered with the proper sequence of play.”
Judson’s eyes heated. So did his ring. “He told you that?”
“Shortly before he went over the falls. Yes.”
“All right, we’ll finish this conversation later. Let’s take a look at the scene.”
Gwen kept her talent tamped down so that she would not see the ghost in the mirror. She reached around the corner of the door frame, found the wall switch and flipped it.
Shock lanced through her when she registered the chaos inside the office. Desk drawers and cupboard doors stood open. Books had been swept off the shelves. Files had been pulled out of the metal cabinet and dumped on the floor.
“Good grief,” she whispered, stunned.
“I take it things didn’t look like this when you got here this morning?” Judson said.
“No,” she said. “Someone searched this room sometime after I left today.”
She was already tense and on edge. Her startled response to the scene in the office kicked up her talent. It was an intuitive reaction. Before she could suppress it, she was looking into the mirror.
The ghost appeared in the glass.
“Well, you knew that this was going to get a lot more complicated, didn’t you, dear?” the ghost said. “That’s why you brought along your very own
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