Free This Wicked Game by Michelle Zink

was better than nothing.
    Claire nodded when he pointed to it.
    He stood on tiptoe, peering inside. Then he slid the window upward. A rush of hot air escaped the room.
    He turned to her. “If there’s trouble, you go. You can get help if you want, but you have to promise to go.”
    She nodded. There was no way she’d leave him behind, but he wouldn’t keep going if she didn’t agree.
    He hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, swinging his legs in so gracefully he could have been a gymnast. His head appeared in the window frame a few seconds later.
    “So far so good. Want me to check it out first?”
    She shook her head. “No way.”
    He sighed. “Okay. Need help?”
    “No.” She was already reaching for the sill. After the stucco wall, the window was no problem. She pulled herself up and slid into the room as if she were exiting the deep end of a pool without a ladder.
    Then she was inside, looking around and taking stock of her surroundings.



TEN
    T hey were in a mudroom. The air was heavy and hot, the sound of water rushing in the washer and clothes tumbling in the dryer coming from the corner of the room. No wonder the window had been left open a crack. It was hotter than Hades, as Claire’s mother would say.
    Xander crept to the door, leaning out just enough to see the rooms beyond. Claire stayed near his back, trying to restrain her own desire to look while she waited for the all clear.
    He turned around, his eyes meeting hers. “Stay close.”
    She followed him into a long hallway, the wooden floors partially covered by a long exotic-looking runner. It was quiet, with no sign that anyone was home. To the back of the house, Claire could make out a round table and what was probably a kitchen and dining area that opened onto the patio at the back of the house.
    “Be right back,” Xander whispered, heading for the room at the back of the house. He returned a moment later. “All clear in there, too.”
    They followed the hall toward the front of the house. There was a powder room on the left and a staircase leading to the second floor on the right. They continued past both to a small, high-ceilinged room that stood to one side of the entry. It had probably been a parlor at some point, but now it looked like a living room. A sofa stood in the middle of the room and was flanked by two chairs. A wooden coffee table punctuated the center of the sitting area.
    Something about the room felt off to Claire. It took her a minute to figure it out. The house felt dead. It was like a hotel room, pleasant and clean but with no sign of life. Even the decor was bland and impersonal. She seriously doubted they would find anything incriminating.
    She caught Xander’s eye and headed toward the stairs.
    The made their way slowly up the staircase. Claire was used to living in an old house, and she tested each tread before taking a step, wanting to make sure it wouldn’t creak. They couldn’t know the house was empty until they’d checked all the rooms, and her heart beat a mile a minute, her body prepared to run as they ascended to a generous landing.
    There were five rooms on the second floor, two of them with closed doors. Claire was willing to bet they were empty. The air was too still, the atmosphere devoid of life. She stepped toward the open doors first, peeking inside each before she lost her nerve.
    No one was there, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the two standard-issue bedrooms, each of them holding a bed, bureau, desk, and chair.
    The third open door was a bathroom. She left it alone. No one hid anything important in the bathroom.
    She looked at Xander, raising her eyebrows in silent question and pointing to one of the closed doors.
    He nodded, and she stepped toward the first room.
    She eased the door open carefully, wincing when it creaked. Despite her belief that no one was in the house, she was relieved when an empty room was revealed.
    This was where Eugenia slept, Claire was sure of it. The