Free Pretty Witches All in a Row by Lisa Olsen

my question?  If you’re not guilty then what do you have to worry about?”
    “Either charge me and let me call my lawyer, or get out of my way.  Either way, I’ve said all I intend to say,” Seraphine returned, fixing those dark eyes on him.
    If looks could kill...   “Alright, you’re free to go.”  Nick stepped aside.  “But thanks for stopping by, it was very illuminating.”  He fixed her with a smug smile, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure from the flicker of doubt that registered in her lovely eyes at his tone.  Damn, he was gonna owe Park ten bucks…
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
    Hours later found Nick poring over the same information, looking for something he might have missed.  His eyes were drawn back to the white board which held the picture of the other girl to have died in a fire, Zoe. 
    There was precious little information in the investigative report into her death.  Twenty-six, five foot eleven inches tall, long medium brown hair, brown eyes, Caucasian.  She’d lived alone in the house that burnt down and she’d purchased it two years ago on her own.  She worked for a local company that specialized in environmental science as an engineer.  There wasn’t any information on her personal finances yet, but he imagined she must have been pulling in a pretty decent salary to afford the house all by herself.   
    Once the fire had been ruled accidental there hadn’t been so much as a single interview with her friends and family.  Just like Skye’s fire, there was no trace of accelerants to be found; the cause an overabundance of unattended candles.  The only difference being with no neighbors close by, Zoe’s house burned nearly to the ground by the time the authorities responded, obliterating most of the physical evidence. 
    Nick stared into the girl’s dark eyes…  Had she been murdered along with her coven member?  Or was it an incredible coincidence?  Odds were there had to be a connection, someone who wanted both girls dead for reasons that might only make sense to the killer.  But in his experience, it usually boiled down to the basest of motivations; love or money.  Love and hate were opposite sides of the same coin, wrapped up in jealousy and envy; it was all related once you understood their motivation.  Money was just as powerful, whether it was a case of not enough or too much is never enough; it never ceased to amaze him what people would do for a few bucks. 
    It was later than he would have liked when Nick pulled into the driveway of his home.  The modest, three bedroom house was all ablaze with light, and he could hear the music all the way out in the car before he even opened the garage door.  “Sounds like V’s home,” he murmured, leaving the car.  The music swelled as he opened the door into the hallway, the music dark and throbbing. 
    Nick ventured deeper into the house, finding his teenaged daughter at the kitchen table, head bobbing to the music, bent over a textbook.  How she could study with all that racket was beyond him, but he had to smile at the way her little spiky ponytails bounced, oblivious to his presence. 
    Not for the first time, he fretted over her appearance, thinking she looked more like a college co-ed than a high school girl in that get up.  Her naturally wavy, medium brown hair was dyed a vibrant red color that didn’t occur in nature; straightened within an inch of its life so that the ends of her ponytails stuck out at odd angles making him think of a burst of fireworks.  A black velvet choker wrapped around her pale throat, and her ears boasted three sets of piercings apiece.  Nick flat out put his foot down on piercing any other part of her body until she was eighteen, and he had two years left to hope she grew out of that phase.  As per usual, she wore a short skirt, not indecently so, but shorter than he would have liked on principle. 
    Her outfit du jour consisted of a black denim miniskirt, frayed