Framed and Burning (Dreamslippers Book 2) by Lisa Brunette Page B

spare us that legwork, since it most likely won’t turn anything up.”
    Cat filled a teapot with hot, boiling water from the kettle and then let it steep as she cut fruit and cheese for a snack. Grace was famished and snuck a piece of plum and bit of goat cheese off the tray.
    “I agree with Alvarez on the possible scenarios,” Grace said. “But my hunch is that someone either wanted to kill Mick or at least hurt him, by torching the place where he makes his art.”
    “And you think this Candace could have done that?”
    “What did the evidence report say, Cat? Was it the work of an amateur?”
    “It seems so. I’ll let you have a look yourself.” Cat went over to the couch and picked up the file. She carried it over to the counter for Grace, who opened it.
    “What is this? Six-point type? Fetch me my reading glasses, would you, doll?”
    Cat handed Grace the red Art Deco frames she’d brought with her from Seattle.
    “There, that’s better.” Grace read down the page, turned to the second page, and then announced, “Here it is. ‘Ease of identification of accelerant despite obvious opportunity to hide it suggests the work of an amateur arsonist.’ Oh, for goodness sake.”  
    “You just read the part about the Coleman fuel, didn’t you? That’s how I finally decided Uncle Mick is innocent. In his dream, he used a can of gasoline to set the fire.” She set two teacups down and poured them both a spot from the pot.  
    “The arsonist brought in his own accelerant. Camping fuel. Something Mick didn’t have on hand. He ignored the flammable liquids Mick already had there in his studio.”
    “The mark of someone who’s never done this before,” Cat said.
    “Exactly,” said Grace.  
    Cat laughed. “It sounds like our arsonist did an online search for ‘How to Commit Arson.’ Maybe Mick’s wrong. Maybe Jenny did do it.”
    “Or Candace,” Grace said. She couldn’t get the woman out of her mind.  

    >>>

    While the police tried to find more solid evidence against Jenny Baines, Grace decided it would be best to follow up on some of the other people on Mick’s “hate list,” as they’d taken to calling it. So the two sleuths planned a quick trip up to New York, where the next three lived.
      Cat had never been, but Grace had been there many times. She’d lived in the Big Apple for a few years in her thirties. It was the Sixties then, and she had experimented on numerous fronts, using her dreamslipping ability to become a sort of mystic within a band of hippies centered around Washington Square Park. She told this to Cat on the train, which Grace insisted on instead of the plane for a change of pace, and ease of the journey, as they could get up and stretch their legs—even practice some yoga—more readily on the train. Grace wasn’t sure she could keep up this pace and wondered if she should have waited a few more days before embarking on another trip.
    But it was too late for second guesses, and she’d never been one to dwell on the past, even the recent past.
    “I once met Jack Kerouac at a party,” Grace announced. “But honestly, I didn’t find him very interesting. His girlfriend, on the other hand… Now there was a gal.”
    Cat laughed. “Only you, Gran. Half the time, I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”
    “Oh, my dear, everything I tell you is the unvarnished truth.”
    “Now let me see… His girlfriend was blonde and from the country, as I had been. We compared our strict religious upbringings. She was Protestant, but unlike regular people, whom we called ‘squares’ back then, she didn’t hold me at a distance for my Catholic upbringing. Though it probably helped that I was busily trying to shed it.”
    “So how did you use your dreamslipping with them?”
    “Oh, I was a bit of a charlatan, I’m sorry to admit.” Grace smiled, enjoying the opportunity to tell Cat a story she’d never heard. “Several of us girls would share an apartment, you see,