“I’ll let you know tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Samantha—”

  With a deep sigh she stood, tugging him to his feet beside her. “Bed, please.”

  “It’ll be all right, you know.”

  She mustered a small, grim smile. “I know it will be. I’m going to make it that way.”

  “We will make it that way,” he amended, hiding his alarm in a tight hug. If Samantha went over to the dark side, God help whoever crossed her.

  Samantha’s first stop of the morning was to Ungaro’s, where she purchased an expensive emerald necklace in an antique gold setting that matched the pictures she’d seen of the Gugenthal collection pretty closely. Then she went to a teeny bopper accessories store and bought a big cheap ruby necklace. That done, it only took a few of her more delicate thieves’ tools to replace the emerald with the glass ruby.

  It was a big hunch she was going to play, but it was the best one she could think of. For most of her life she’d lived by relying on her instincts, and she wasn’t going to alter that just because it was Stoney’s life at risk as well as her own.

  Rick hadn’t looked all that pleased to see her putting on a sleeveless flower print Valentino dress that morning, but since he’d been busy donning a black Armani suit and a deep blue tie for his meeting, neither of them had spent much time on conversation. He hated when she wished him luck, probably for the same reasons she hated the term, so she’d settled for a simple “You look yummy” and left to run her errands.

  For stop number three she drove to the Chesterfield Hotel. It surprised her that John Leedmont had agreed to meet there, especially with the rest of the Kingdom Fittings board of directors roaming the halls. On the other hand, Leedmont had a big meeting in a few hours, and he probably wasn’t up for a clandestine rendezvous in a coffeehouse.

  Leedmont answered his door just a couple of seconds after she knocked. He was nervous—though she wasn’t sure yet whether it was because of her or because he was within two hours of meeting an Addison charge full on.

  “Miss Jellicoe,” he said, stepping back to motion her into the room. “Were you able to find my blackmailer?”

  She nodded, handing over the envelope containing the photo and negative. “There you go.”

  Leedmont opened it, pulling out the contents and examining the two items. “Did you have any trouble?”

  Sam shrugged, resisting the urge to touch her bruised forehead, buried under an inch of makeup. “He wrecked my car, but I kicked his ass, so all in all I’d say it worked out.”

  “He won’t…cause me any further difficulties?”

  “No. He had quite the business going with his little candid camera game. I imagine he’ll be heading to jail for a couple of years.”

  “And my involvement?”

  “No such animal. You’re one hundred percent not involved.”

  “You didn’t keep any copies of the photo for yourself?”

  Sam offered him a smile, though she wasn’t particularly amused. “So I could blackmail you into working with Rick, maybe? This is between you and me. I didn’t keep anything, and he doesn’t know anything. Hell, you could even not pay me and I wouldn’t say anything to him.” She let her smile deepen. “But I wouldn’t recommend going that route.”

  “I don’t imagine you would.”

  Leedmont reached into his jacket pocket and produced a check, which he handed to her. She pocketed it without checking the value.

  “By the way,” she added, heading for the door, “I believe you about the circumstances. Your photographer set more guys up than just you. And Miss Hooker’s gonna have some long, nervous evenings while the cops look for her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Shrugging, she pulled open the door. “You seem like a good guy. I’m glad you came to me.”

  “Miss Jellicoe?”

  She stopped halfway into the hall. “Yes?”

  He motioned her back into the room. “Might I ask you a private question?”

  “Okay. I can’t guarantee an answer.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Sam closed the door again, leaning one hand on the handle. With a ton of other shit to take care of today, she really didn’t have time for this. On the other hand, she was trying to start a business, and it couldn’t hurt to make a good impression on her first paying client—even if this hadn’t been remotely related to building security.

  “Richard Addison,” he said.

  “Like I said, this is between y—”

  “You and me. I know. I only wanted to ask your opinion of him.”

  Deeply surprised, Samantha considered her answer. “I’m living with the guy, so I must think he’s okay.”

  “That’s not precisely what I meant.”

  She grimaced. “All right. I don’t trust many people, but I trust Rick Addison. How’s that?”

  He nodded. “Better. Thank you again.”

  “Sure.”

  She returned to the Bentley and headed out on her last errand of the morning. Thankfully, Patricia was already dressed and waiting for her in the lobby of The Breakers. Samantha eyed her for a moment. “You’ll do,” she said.

  “Oh, praise from the mutt,” Patricia returned, holding out her hand. “Where is it?”

  Sam handed her the necklace. “Just remember, it was a gift. Don’t be self-conscious about it.”

  The Ex fastened it behind her neck. “I know how to wear jewelry, thank you very much.”

  Gazing at Patricia’s neck critically, Samantha nodded. “Looks good. And where did you get it?”

  With a pained sigh, Patricia followed her to the Bentley and recited, “Daniel gave it to me at dinner the other night. He said I should be showered in rubies and emeralds.”

  “Bathed. He said you should be bathed in rubies and emeralds.”

  “What?”

  “Being showered in them would hurt.”

  “Bitch,” the Ex muttered, allowing herself to be handed into the passenger seat by a valet.

  “Slut,” Sam returned, tipping the other valet and climbing in on her own. This valet thing wasn’t all that bad, though she’d hate to rely on having her car delivered to her while she was trying to make a getaway.

  “I still don’t understand how this is going to help anything,” Patricia said, fiddling with the short hem of her white and yellow Ralph Lauren.

  “It’s simple. A charity lunch with us sitting at the same table as Laurie Kunz. She’ll see you wearing the ruby, ask where you got it, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “But you said Daniel robbed his father.”

  “I’m betting Laurie will think so, too. I want to see her reaction.”

  “I think you don’t know anything, and you’re just trying to ruin my life again.”

  “If I’m wrong, then you get a nice necklace.”

  “It’s not even real.”

  “The setting’s real gold.” Ruthlessly Samantha kept her growing annoyance in check. This was for Stoney. And it was for her, though she couldn’t help thinking that if she’d just dropped her pursuit of Charles’s killer, none of this subterfuge would have been necessary.

  Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to the gated drive of Casa Nobles. Samantha showed the guard at the gate her invitation—which had actually been sent to “Miss Samantha Jalico and guest” at Rick’s address. Hell, it wasn’t perfect, but it did signal that she’d been accepted into Palm Beach society to some degree.

  “I still can’t believe I’m attending as your guest,” Patricia muttered as they pulled into the curving drive.

  “I’m sure you would have been invited if they’d known you would be in town,” Samantha said soothingly. “But this way, you’re the secret weapon in a robbery and murder investigation.”

  “Yes, I am.” Patricia led the way up the shallow Spanish-style steps to the double front doors of Casa Nobles. “And don’t you forget it.”

  The luncheon at Casa Nobles was hosted by Mrs. Cynthia Landham-Glass, the daughter of the inventor of vending machines or some such thing, and the wife of the owner of the largest string of Lexus dealerships in the country. Cynthia herself stood in the doorway greeting the all-female guest list.

  “Patricia!” she exclaimed, giving the Ex the traditional two-cheek miss-kiss. “I had no idea you were in town. I’m so glad you were able to attend.”

  “Yes, Samantha asked if I would join her. She’s new to this sort of thing, so I agreed to be her guide.”

  Samantha smiled as the stretched-tight face and Botox lips turned in her direction. “Hello. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “My pleasure, Samantha. Rick Addison is well-respected for his philanthropy.”

  “He’s been encouraging me to become more involved in local society,” she returned, adopting the lofty airs of the two women. “He even sent his checkbook with me today.”

  Well, he hadn’t objected when she’d lifted it from his pocket, anyway. She’d tell him later.

  “Splendid. SPERM will be delighted to see how generous Rick Addison and Samantha Jellicoe are.”

  “‘SPERM?’” Samantha repeated in a low voice as she followed Patricia through the house.

  “Sam!”

  She looked up as a petite blonde emerged from the patio and the spread of tables beyond. “Kate,” she returned with a genuine smile as Donner’s wife embraced her. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “And no one told me you were attending. SPERM is a favorite cause of mine.”

  Samantha leaned closer. “And what the hell does SPERM stand for?”

  Kate Donner chuckled. “The Society for the Protection of the Environment and Range of Manatees,” she recited. “I like them because they have a sense of humor. And it is a good cause.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Hello, Kate,” Patricia said. “What a nice surprise.”

  Kate glanced in the Ex’s direction. “Patricia. I heard you were lurking around town.”

  “I don’t ‘lurk.’”

  “Skulking, then.” Wrapping her arm around Samantha’s, Kate guided her toward the patio. “What are you doing with her?” she whispered, her fresh, tanned face folding into a frown.

  “Rick knows,” Sam returned. “It’s business.”

  “Thank goodness. When I saw the two of you together the other day, I—”

  “You told Yale, and he ratted me out to Rick. Thanks for that, by the way.”

  Annoyed as she still was at the complications that had caused, Sam couldn’t help but like Kate. She had from the moment they’d met. Even better, Kate obviously didn’t like Patricia. At the same time, satisfying as ditching Patty would be, Sam needed her.

  “Tom doesn’t keep things from Rick. And at heart he’s a huge gossip. I should have called you first, but I was so…surprised, I didn’t think of it.”

  “No problem.” Samantha took a breath. “Kate, would you mind…sitting elsewhere? I need some space around Patricia and me. I can’t exp—”

  “What you’re doing won’t get Rick into trouble, will it?” she asked. “Because I won’t allow that. Especially because getting Rick into trouble will get Tom into trouble.”

  “It won’t get Rick into trouble. I swear it.” Samantha hoped she wasn’t being overly optimistic. Crossing her fingers, though, would be a bit blatant.

  Without a backward glance, Kate returned to the group of women with whom she’d been chatting. The invitations all had table numbers on them, though Samantha had erased hers and Patricia’s. They were going to sit at Laurie Kunz’s table. If Laurie didn’t see the necklace, they might as well be at Taco Bell.

  Finally she spied Charles Kunz’s daughter, seated at table number eleven. Swiftly, she pulled a pen from her purse and etched the corresponding number onto her invitation. “Let’s go,” she said over her shoulder.

  She’d taken a few steps before she realized that Patricia wasn’t following.

  “What is it?” she said, returning.

  “I did not come here to be embarrassed and humiliated,” Patricia snapped, her voice shaking a little.

  “I didn’t embarrass you. I will if you don’t go through with this, though. And not just because you’re dating Daniel. I haven’t forgotten that whole stolen ring thing, Patty. I still have the tape, so I pretty much own you.”

  “I’m not talking about you. I meant Kate Donner. She used to be my friend. All these women used to fall over themselves to be my friend. And now they invite you to their parties.”

  Samantha gazed at her for a minute. “Under other circumstances I might feel some compassion for you,” she finally said, “but today I’m trying to get my friend out of jail. You made your bed, Patricia.”

  Patricia stomped her yellow sandal. “I made a mistake. A stupid mistake. And you stepped in to take advantage when you had no right. You’ve ruined everything.”

  “So make it right.”

  Patricia pinned her with a pale blue glare. “What a stupid thing to say.”

  Sam grinned. “It made sense to me. Help me, and I’ll give you credit for discovering a murderer. That’s the beginning and end of this partnership.”

  “It had better be.”

  Four other women were already seated at the table, and another three were headed in that direction. Grabbing Patricia’s hand, Samantha towed her to their chairs and sat before anyone could dispute their ownership of the seats.

  “Miss Kunz,” Samantha said, “I wanted to give you my condolences again. It’s nice that you’re not giving up your charitable activities.”

  “My father was a great supporter of wildlife,” Laurie returned. “I didn’t realize that you and Patricia really are friends. How…interesting.”

  “Richard asked me to guide her about society,” Patricia put in, embellishing the lie she’d begun earlier.

  That was fine with Samantha. Just looking at the tables directly around them, she recognized occupants of three houses she’d robbed over the years. She’d hobnobbed with them before, but only when it gave her an opportunity to case their houses. Now they would happily invite her in, because gossip linked her with Rick Addison. Weird.

  “It just so happens that I’ve been guiding Richard around at the same time,” Laurie contributed, favoring Samantha with another smile. “He’s quite the charmer.”

  “You and Richard?” Patricia broke in.

  For once Patricia’s obsession with her ex-husband was useful. It saved Samantha from having to ask that question herself. Whether she would have to beat the crap out of Laurie would depend on how she answered the question.

  “Yes. We’ve been looking at real estate.”

  Samantha rotated her shoulders, forcing herself to relax. One thing was for sure—whether she was good at chitchatting or not, she preferred a straight B and E to all this fake politeness and artifice. And Rick owed her an explanation as to why he’d selected Laurie to be his realtor, especially after all the shit he’d fed her about honesty and questioning whom she chose to hang out with.

  The rest of their table filled up, and two older women were left standing there, looking from one guest to another. “I thought this was our table,” one of them said.

  Samantha sipped iced tea, gave a commiserating look, and kept her mouth shut. Finally one of the hostesses appeared and led them to the two empty seats at table eight, where she and Patricia had originally been assigned. As trays of shrimp salads appeared, Mrs. Cynthia Landham-Glass took the podium by the pool and began her speech about the charity while Samantha kept her attention on Laurie Kunz.

  Ideally Laurie would have seen Patricia’s necklace already and blurted out some sort of accusation about her brother, but she seemed engrossed with lunch and with chatting to the ladies at all the surrounding tables. She was firmly entrenched in Palm Beach society, and if anything, her father’s death had only helped with that. Now she had the sympathy card to play—and that, together with her family’s longtime residence, would get her into practically any-place she wanted.

  After twenty minutes of being charming, Patricia leaned toward her. “She hasn’t seen it,” she murmured, dragging her fork through the chicken capellini.

  “Be patient. She will.”

  “What am I supposed to do, stick my tits in her face?”

  “If it comes to that,” Samantha returned. “Ask her to pass the sugar.”

  Patricia blew out her breath. “Laurie, love, would you mind passing me the butter?” she asked. Apparently substituting butter was her way of improvising.

  Samantha kept her eyes on Laurie and saw the exact moment she noticed Patricia’s necklace. Green eyes widened, then narrowed again. Her next glance was at Sam, who lowered her gaze to her lunch in time to avoid contact.

  “Where did you get that lovely necklace, Patricia?” Laurie asked.

  Patricia buttered a piece of bread. “This? Daniel gave it to me over dinner the other evening.” She smiled. “He said I should be showered in rubies and emeralds, and that this was only the beginning. Your brother is quite the romantic.”

  Not bad. Sam waited a beat, then leaned over to finger the ruby. She gave a low whistle. “That’s quite a beginning.”

  For a moment Patricia simply basked while all the ladies leaned in to look at her neck and offer various compliments. Laurie didn’t, but then she already knew where the ruby had come from—or she thought she did. What was it like, Sam wondered, to realize that your kid brother had killed your dad? She supposed she could have been more tactful about making her suspicions known, but as far as she was concerned, nobody in that house had been cleared.

  For the rest of lunch she watched. Laurie chatted and applauded readily enough, but she picked at both her capellini and dessert, and several times fingered the cell phone on the table beside her elbow. She wanted to call Daniel, no doubt, though Sam wasn’t entirely certain whether it was to accuse her brother of murder or of giving away stolen rubies.

  Lunch began to break up, and Samantha wrote out a donation check. As she replaced the checkbook in her purse, she pulled out the note she’d written that morning and slipped it under Laurie’s cell phone.

  The next step was the hardest. Now she had to wait.