I turned in, driving slowly, my attention drawn to the gulley where Jane Doe's body had been found. I could see now that a section of the road angled off to the left, ending in a cul-de-sac, and I remembered the passing reference to the VW van that was seen parked in the turn-around. Also, a red convertible with out-of-state plates. Offhand, I couldn't remember the name of the fellow who'd called it in, but the report might bear revisiting, as Arne had suggested. Somebody Vogel. I'd have to look it up. I eased the car up the hill, following the route Arne had taken in his Jeep. I was really hoping the No Trespassing signs didn't apply to me.

The house came into view, looking like something in an old horror film. I parked in the driveway and approached with a curious mix of anxiety and excitement. Bare wooden trellises affixed to the porch rails at intervals suggested that roses or morning glories might have climbed there once. Now the beds were overgrown. I climbed the front porch stairs, which seemed remarkably sound. The house, though a shambles, had been built to last. I remembered talk at some point of moving the house into the city limits, restoring it as a possible tourist attraction. I could see where the city would be reluctant to make a claim. Even the idea of renovating the house in situ would be an expensive proposition. To what end?

I tried the front door and to my surprise I found it unlocked. I pushed it open and went in, assaulted by the dense smell of soot and mildew. I spent the next thirty minutes wandering from floor to floor, sometimes awed at the grandeur that remained. High ceilings, the sweeping staircase in the foyer, all the marble and mahogany still gracing the rooms. A large butler's pantry opened into a vast kitchen with servants quarters built on behind. A second staircase led up to the second floor from there. I could feel memory stir. Vague images, shapeless and filled with shadows, moved at the edge of my vision. I could hear sounds, talking and laughing in another room, without being able to distinguish the words.

I was standing on the wide second-floor landing when I heard someone walking in the hall below. From the bottom of the stairs, someone called, "Kinsey?"

For one wonderful moment, the voice was my mother's and she'd returned from the dead.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I crossed to the banister and peered over the railing. Tasha stood in the stairwell, looking up. "I saw your car parked outside."

"I'll come down."

I descended the stairs, embarrassed that I'd been caught poking around the house uninvited. She'd taken a seat on the third step up, leaning against the wall. I settled on the same step, sitting close to the rail.

"How'd you know I was here?"