The moon was hanging low in the sky, a perfect crescent, the pinprick of light that was the planet Venus sparkling at its tip. The evening was clear, crisp and chilly, the air sharp in Taylor’s nose.

She and McKenzie talked a little as they drove into Green Hills, the night streets of Nashville flashing by.

“What do you think he’s going to do next, McKenzie?”

“I don’t know. He might be on the run, especially when he realizes his compatriots are behind bars. He could stand and fight. I just don’t know.”

“Is he finished? That’s what I want to find out.”

He didn’t answer, just looked out the window. They were on Twenty-first Avenue, the streets remarkably clear for this time of night. Postholiday letdown; the city was sleepy after their long night on Friday.

“You called Ariadne?” he asked.

“I tried. She didn’t answer.”

“We need to keep an eye on her. She might take it upon herself to try and track him down. You blew her off earlier, and she probably doesn’t trust you anymore.”

“Listen, I know you don’t put any stock in the occult, McKenzie.”

“I don’t. But I know enough about it to recognize that some people do. Look at these kids. They’ve been practicing witchcraft. They believe. They think this boy Raven has put a spell on them so they can’t talk. It’s not that they don’t want to talk, they do. But they honestly believe that they can’t. It’s fascinating, the phenomenon. Practically Stockholm syndrome.”

“You think he has that kind of power over them?”

“I do. Over the girl, Fane, at the very least. They were all in on this plan, all four of them. I think Raven took it upon himself to hurt Ember’s brother, and that’s where it all went south. He might have thought she wanted him to, but it was a miscalculation anyway. He overstepped his bounds, found the one thing that would break their group apart. You heard what they said about the sex rites. Fane and Raven have been sleeping together. There’s going to be a strong link between them. Incestuous relationships like that are sometimes overwhelming for those in them. She loves him because he’s her family and she’s in love with him as a man. She’s not grown-up enough to separate out love from sex. He makes her feel good and makes her feel ashamed of that at the same time. I’ll bet money that the dad was abusing her, too. She might have turned to her brother for protection.”

“She doesn’t seem like much of an innocent to me.”

“Innocent, no. But abused, yes. Looking for love any way she can get it? I assume the boy was mistreated too-look at his bisexual tendencies. He equates sex with love. In someone this young, that pathology is oftentimes learned.”

Taylor turned on Woodmont, then turned left onto Hilldale Drive. The Merritt house was only a few blocks in, she could already smell the smoke. The usual fall scent of Nashville-burning leaves and rotting grass-was overlaid with the heady stench of gasoline.

The house was unmistakable-black, sooty smears around the front door, a crowd of vehicles, some with lights flashing, others with doors flung wide. The ladder truck was regrouping, the firefighters rolling hoses, the fire hydrant being set back to rights. They’d contained the blaze quickly, gotten it under control and extinguished. Taylor knew how hard their fire department worked, was glad that they’d been so responsive tonight.

She and Simari arrived at the Merritts at the same time, from two different directions. She let Simari pull over, waited for her to secure Max. Marcus was waiting for them, brown eyes haunted.

“What’s up?” Taylor asked.

The fire chief was behind Marcus, back to her. When he heard her voice, he turned with a huge smile. He took the few steps over to her, shook her hand. She could feel the small bones in her fingers scrunch together.

“Lieutenant Jackson. Helluva night. You been out here all this time?”

“No, sir. We just got here. Chief Andrew Rove, meet Detective Renn McKenzie, my newest acquisition.”

The chief stuck out a meaty hand, grimy with soot. McKenzie shook it, smiled and then surreptitiously wiped his hand on the side of his jeans. Rove looked like a bear in his full fire suit, his hat perched precariously on his round head. His small blueberry-colored eyes were bloodshot and tired, but his smile was sincere.

“Glad to have you, son. We’re finished in there. We’ve been working the place over with a fine-tooth cornb. Definitely arson. Your crime-scene techs are in there, gatherin’ evidence.”

“Great. Any ideas how the fire started?”

“No doubt that gasoline was the accelerant. Ole Sniff found the point of origin where the gasoline had been originally spilled. Started in the basement. Amateur hour. Whoever did this thought the whole house would go up if the fire started low. May have been in a hurry, may have just been lazy.”

He turned to McKenzie. “Ole Sniff’s our combustible gas detector. Best tracker in the business, can tell any kind of accelerant that’s been used. But we did find an empty gas can. If there’s more, we’ll get it.”

“Thanks, Chief. I appreciate you coming out here for this. One of your guys will send the report over?”

“Sure thing.” He yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth, and ambled off toward his car.

Tim Davis wandered out of the house with several bags in his hands. Taylor jogged over to him. ‘Hey, Tim. What’s in the bags?”

He gave her a tired smile, held up the bag in his left hand. “Soot and ash.” He held up the right. “More soot and more ash.”

“Great.”

“This is just the beginning. There are two bodies in the basement. The bulk of the fire was down there. The first floor got some damage, but the fire burned out quickly. It’s more a smoke problem.”

“Whose bodies?”

“Middle-aged male and female. That’s about all I could get ME should be here in a few minutes.” He lumbered off toward his vehicle. Poor man, his night was just beginning.

Taylor turned to McKenzie. “Wanna bet it’s Schuyler Merritt Senior and his ex-wife, Jackie Atilio?”

“Tm not going to take that bet,” he said, eyes grim.

A crowd of people had gathered to watch the fire burn, a few leaking away into the night now that the excitement looked to be past. When the ME’s van pulled up, the crowd got thick again. The vehicle stopped. Sam hopped out.

“What’s happening, hot stuff?” Sam said, cracking a smile at her. “Hey,” Taylor said, surprised. “I figured you’d be home by now.”

“My turn for night shift. I switched with Dr. Fox.”

“Well, great. There are two bodies in the basement.”

“Burned?” Sam asked, pulling protective gear over her clothes.

Marcus shook his head. “A little singed around the edges. They were buried in the basement in a shallow grave, a layer of thin-set concrete on top of them. The fire burned hot around them, the area looked wrong to the firefighter who was down there. He jabbed it with his pick, it cracked apart easily.”

“If they were buried, I’d assume the fire was set after they were dead.”

“T think you’re right. They’re pretty far gone, a couple of weeks at least. Smells pretty nasty down there.”

“Okay. Taylor, you want to come?”

“No,” she said, but she’d already pulled on booties and purple gloves, secured her hair back. McKenzie waved her on, motioned toward the crowd. He was going to check what people had seen first.

Simari excused herself to go run the perimeter of the scene with Max, just in case there were any more surprises.

Marcus said, “I’ll walk you in. They still have a couple of hot spots, but they were able to get here quickly. I do have one witness, said there was apiece-of-crap car that’s usually around that’s missing. Said the kid who lived here drove it. They can’t remember the last time they saw Merritt Senior.”

“Be sure you get the registration records for the car so we can put out a BOLO. So Schuyler Merritt was here today. Damn. We were so close.”