Diana’s stomach roiled. My first trip to Versailles, my first body cavity search. Wonderful. “Of course. Do you know . . . was it insured?” she asked carefully. “What I mean is, how does this work? Am I going to be on the hook for the whole cost?”

The woman just glared at her with an expression that said, As well you should be, you careless fool. Diana felt about two inches tall.

A moment later, the young woman returned with . . . perfect. Inspector Clouseau. Diana and he had remarkably similar reactions to seeing one another: they both rolled their eyes as if to say, You again?

He strode over to her and said, “Madame St. James. Are you the one with the missing necklace?”

“That’s right.”

He motioned to the police officer beside him. “All right, I want you to track Mme St. James’ movements from the moment she left the tent with her. Map out every single step. Let’s pull the security footage for those locations,” he said. “No one is coming in or going out until we’ve found that necklace.”

“You really think if someone took it, they’d hang around here?” she asked, incredulous.

He didn’t answer. He was busy staring at her purse.

She handed it over. He took it from her and opened it, glanced inside, and gave it back.

“You’ve had an eventful evening, now, haven’t you?” he asked with a condescending lilt in his voice. “You should head on back to your hotel, now. Get some rest. But don’t go too far. We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth to speak but then caught sight of them. All of them. A little circle had gathered around—police, clerks who worked in the tent, a few straggling ball guests.

She was used to being in large groups, commanding attention. But usually, the people in her meetings regarded her with respect. With appreciation. The looks on these faces was so different, all Diana wanted to do now was melt into the scenery and disappear. They regarded her with close-lipped frowns. They averted their eyes from her whenever she looked directly at them. It was like they believed there was something wrong with her.

Like they believed she was guilty.

And she knew, right then, that if she wanted to change their minds, she was going to have to do something about it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following morning, Diana rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling. What an unforgettable evening, Diana. Really, way to start this trip off with a bang.

Though without the corset she could finally breathe freely, she felt like there was an elephant sitting on her chest.

The necklace. One-point-four million dollars of necklace, and according to what the police had told her last night, because she’d lost it, she was on the hook for every last cent of it.

Back in New York, when Macey had gushed about how fun her little jaunt abroad was, she’d neglected to mention things like this. She’d probably never had to deal with such things. The most she’d had to endure was a missed train to Lisbon. She probably hadn’t had a single murder or theft on her trip. But Diana had had both—in one night. Some girls had all the luck.