As I shifted, the blanket scratched my cheek and it made me think of why I was covered in one-because I wasn't in a trunk, meaning someone could look into Molly's SUV, see the rear seat folded down and a bound woman in the luggage compartment. Goal one, then? Remove the blanket.

I'd just moved when a voice stopped me.

"You got home from school okay? And your sister?"

Molly. In the driver's seat. On her cell phone. Talking to her children. I allowed myself a flutter of relief before I started wiggling again, squirming out from under the blanket.

"There's a box of Twinkies in the cupboard over the stove, but don't let Tish see where you found them. They're meant for school. Tell her it's a special treat and Mommy's sorry she wasn't home to see her after school."

A sliver of light appeared above my eyes. I kept wriggling until the edge of the blanket slid down past my nose, then took a deep breath of cool air. In front of me Molly's head was hidden behind the headrest, only her arm visible as she held her cell phone.

"I might be late, but I'll pick up dinner and call you on the way to find out what you want."

The blanket slid down to my neck. There. Finally. Another deep inhale through my nose as I relaxed. Then I looked up… way up…

at the tinted window, and realized the chances of anyone peering in from a passing transport and seeing me here were next to none. I had to get closer to that window.

Using my feet, I pushed toward the side. Then I twisted around so I could use my bound hands to pull myself up-

Molly's gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.

"Hon? I have to go. I'll call you as soon as I can. Look after your sister, okay? Love you."

She disconnected, then, without a word to me, cast a spell. An energy bolt slammed into me, and I dropped into darkness again.

CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

I WOKE TO MOLLY SLAPPING MY FACE.

At first, I could only moan. Everything hurt, as if I'd been dragged over rocky ground. As I inhaled, that's what I smelled: damp earth. Trees too, that crisp odor of autumn. And another scent, fainter and not nearly so pleasant-rotting vegetation and brackish water.

Quiet. Very quiet. The sigh of rustling leaves yet to fall. The soft, almost tentative call of a bird. The creak of a broken branch in the wind.

Lying on the ground. Damp earth, the ripe smell of it surrounding me. Something digging into my spine-a rock or a twig.

Another smack, harder.

I opened my eyes to see trees, and more trees. No sign of the SUV. Or the road. Or people. Just Molly, crouched in front of me.

She grabbed my hair and wrenched my head to the side, calling my attention to the source of that rotting smell-a swamp visible through the trees. "Who sent you?"

The threat was clear: if I didn't talk, there was a convenient body-disposal site nearby. She ripped the duct tape off my mouth, taking a layer of skin with it. When I gasped and paused to catch my breath, she cuffed me again and I glared at her.

"I don't know what this is about, but-"

She slapped the tape back on, then laid her hands on my forearm and recited a spell. It was like I'd spilled boiling water on my arm- a moment of confusion followed by blinding pain. I screamed behind my gag, more outrage than fear.

When I turned a fresh glare on her, she only smiled. "Didn't like that much, did you? Maybe I should come up with an inducement better suited to the lovely Jaime Vegas."

She backed up on her haunches, looked around and found a twig. Another spell, then she lifted it and put her finger to the end, making it glow like a lit cigarette. She brought the burning end so close to my cheek I could feel the heat.

My heart hammered but I resisted the urge to shut my eyes.

"I'll bet you wouldn't find it so easy to make a living with scars on your pretty face."

She moved the twig even closer. An ember dropped onto my cheek and I jumped, then held firm. Molly wielded the twig like a pen, pretending to write.

"Perhaps a nice big W. Let the world know what the rest of us think of you-a whore who uses her gifts to make a quick buck."

The tip touched my skin. I gritted my teeth and steeled myself. I wouldn't think about what she could do-to me and my career.

"Or maybe that's still not incentive enough…" Molly said.

She lifted the stick until it was level with my right eye. I instinctively tried to close it, but found myself caught in a binding spell, my eyes glued open, that brand coming closer, the end glowing red hot.

My brain went wild with panic.

Molly laughed. "That's better. Now, let's get this over with or you're going to have a hell of a time fumbling your way from this forest blind." She said it as casually as if she were threatening to break my fingernails.

She stood, stretching her legs, and circled me. "The person who sent you here. It was Mike, wasn't it?"

For a second, my brain just whirred. Who was Mike? Then I remembered. Her dead common-law husband.

She made no move to remove my gag, just kept circling me, brandishing the burning twig. For one moment, I felt the almost irresistible urge to giggle, thinking I've seen this scene. Only this wasn't a b movie and, no matter how ridiculous it looked-this suburban mom playing evil interrogator-there was nothing funny about it. She could do exactly what she was threatening, and from the look in her eye, she would. She'd put out my eyes to get the information she wanted, kill me and dispose of my body in the swamp, then call her kids to remind them to finish their homework before she brought dinner.

"Mike contacted you," she continued, "then you decided to come to me with this silly story about needing help with trapped spirits in return for 'contacting' him. What I want to know is why. Did the council send you? Or are you acting on your own, hoping to collect a bribe for not going to the council?"

With a jolt, the pieces fit together in the only way that made sense. What could her dead lover tell me that the council would investigate? Or that I could blackmail her with to avoid an investigation? Proof that the grieving widow wasn't so heartbroken after all.

"Ready to talk?" Molly said, crouching in front of me.

I nodded. As she ripped off the gag, my brain raced. I could point out that murdered ghosts rarely remember the circumstances of their deaths, but that would only confirm I knew he'd been murdered.

"It's a council investigation," I said. "I was walking past your house scoping it out, waiting for my partner, when you opened the door and I had to approach alone."

From her expression, I knew this was what she'd feared. If it was blackmail, that was easy. Kill me and the situation was resolved. It wouldn't be so simple if others already knew.

She eased back on her haunches. "So Mike told you what happened, and you contacted your delegate partner…"

In other words: please tell me there's only one other person involved.

"I took the problem to the whole council at the last meeting. That's proper procedure and, being new, I always follow protocol. They assigned an investigative partner-the werewolf Pack Alpha-" I added for good measure, "-to accompany me."

Fear, maybe even panic, touched Molly's eyes. Good.

"I don't know what Mike told you," Molly said, "but that bastard earned it. After five years of living in my house, he decides he's tired of me. But he's not tired of my money. So he offered me a deal. Give him fifty grand and he'd leave quietly, without telling the council… a few things. I told him I didn't have that kind of money lying around and you know what he told me to do? Empty the girls' college funds."

Flecks of saliva flew from her mouth as she snarled. "He spends five years in our house, winning my girls over, getting them to call him 'Dad,' and then, as his parting shot, he's going to steal their college tuition? Over my dead body." Her snarl twisted into an ugly smile. "Or over his, which was much more to my liking."