Free Gift of Fire by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

you've had a chance to freshen up, please join us downstairs. I want to introduce you to my friends before dinner."

    Jonas nodded, eyeing the stone staircase in front of him. He picked up his duffel bag and Verity's small

    suitcase. Then he gave Maggie Frampton one of his easy grins. "Lead the way, Miss Frampton."

                The older woman nodded once and turned toward the stairs. Maggie had a grandmotherly figure, Verity thought, the sort of shape people used to label "buxom." Her faded blue eyes held a shrewd, knowing expression. She was wearing a flower-spattered housedress that appeared to date from the 1950s, and a thin metal chain around her neck disappeared beneath the collar.

                "Right this way." Maggie moved heavily up the wide staircase. "Got a nice room for you, it overlooks the garden. Course, that ain't no big deal. Every room in the whole damn place overlooks the garden. Digby always said those old Renaissance types couldn't trust anyone but family, and that's why they built their houses the way they did. Lots of stone walls on the outside to keep the neighbors from breaking in, and plenty of room inside to enjoy the gardens and privacy. But I expect a few of 'em learned you can't always trust family, either."

    Jonas smiled. "A few of them sure as hell did learn that, Maggie. Family can be treacherous."

                Maggie paused, one hand on the stone banister. She cocked a brow as she glanced back over her plump shoulder. "Is it true what Little Miss Sunshine down there says? You some kinda weirdo psychic?"

    "No, ma'am," Jonas said blandly. "I am definitely not some kinda weirdo psychic."

                "Good. We got enough nuts in this place right now as it is, don't need another one running around. Taking orders from Little Miss Sunshine is bad enough. Don't know what Digby woulda thought of all this, just don't know."

    "Little Miss Sunshine?" Verity repeated curiously.

                "The Warwick girl. I call her Little Miss Sunshine 'cause she's always smiling and saying how the whole universe is workin' together just to make her life perfect. That kind of cheerfulness just ain't natural, if you ask me. Course, I don't hold much with this hocus-pocus malarkey or the kind of folks who get involved with it. Ain't nothing new about it anyway. We had the same type of kook around when I was a kid, but at least most of 'em had the decency to work in a circus or at the county fair."

    "I'm with you, Maggie," Jonas said. "What did Digby Hazelhurst think about all this psychic stuff?"

                Maggie resumed climbing the staircase. "Old Digby was just fine up until about two years before he died. Then he started turnin' a mite weird, I'll grant you that much. But the man was in his eighties. Had a right to be a bit touched, I say. Besides, it didn't affect us one way or the other."

    "Us?" Verity asked quickly.

                "Him and me," Maggie explained with a wistful chuckle. "Digby and me used to have some good times together. We spent more years than I want to count stuck here on this island with only each other for company, and we weren't neither one of us bored. I'll tell you, when it came to certain types of activity, that old man had the energy of a high school senior in the backseat of a car. Had us some rare old times down in the torture chamber. My, my, yes, we did." Maggie reached the top of the staircase and trudged down a dim corridor.

    Verity shot a highly amused glance at Jonas, who leered back comically.

    Maggie opened the heavy wooden door of a room halfway down the corridor, revealing a large suite

    with huge, arched windows. A wide, canopied bed occupied the center of the room. The cold stone walls were hung with a faded tapestry and a couple of grime-encrusted paintings. The stone floor was bare.

                "This do for ya?" Maggie asked expectantly. " 'Fraid it's the best I've