“There you are!” a voice called from down the hallway.

It was Chevrolet, heading toward her, a none-too-pleased look on his face.

She gave him a wave, feeling dumb. “Oh, hello! There you are!”

His gaze shifted to the officer, and back to Diana. “I was looking for you.”

“Funny. I was looking for you,” she replied, her smile on the verge of cracking.

“I thought I told you to wait outside my office. What happened to you?”

She pointed to the restroom. “Sorry. Powdering my nose. I must’ve missed you?”

He followed her outstretched finger and nodded slowly. “Oh. Okay. That’s right.”

“Well, anyway, thanks so much for your hospitality,” Diana said sweetly, stepping toward the exit. “But I guess I should be going . . .”

“Mme St. James?”

She cringed at the mention of her name. Plastering that fake smile back on her face, she turned, knowing the next question out of his mouth would probably blow her house of cards down. “Yes?”

He put his hand on the doorknob for his office. “Did you not want to check the lost and found for your wrap? I brought it for you to look through. It’s in here. Remember? Your family heirloom.”

She cringed. He is definitely on to me. “Oh! Yes.” That was really stupid, Diana.

She followed him in lamely, desperately wishing she could just leave before she did something else to announce her guilt. She was sweating profusely as she picked through the items in the box. A gold foil mask, a single shoe, a lace coin purse, someone’s hat. There was a lacy fabric thing that could’ve been a wrap, but she didn’t want to chance it by taking it, pretending that it was hers, and finding out it wasn’t one. Of course, she already knew none of it would belong to her, but she put up the act and pretended to be really disheartened when her search came up empty, sighing big.

“Oh, too bad, it’s not here,” she said after a minute. “I must’ve left it elsewhere. But thank you.”

“Anytime,” Chevrolet said, sitting back in his chair and studying her closely. Suspiciously.

“I guess I’ll be going,” she said, backing away as if he was a panther, getting ready to leap at her.

“Yes . . . I guess you will. But if you give me a description of it, I can keep an eye out.”

There was still something about the tone in his voice that told Diana that he didn’t believe a word she said. That he knew exactly what she’d been up to. That he’d maybe even seen her, lying on the floor beneath his desk, but was playing along for the sheer entertainment of watching her twist in the wind.

“Well . . . it was . . . black,” she said awkwardly, recalling a wrap she’d once had in her wardrobe. Ugly thing, she’d only worn it once before donating it to Goodwill. “With gold in it. And a fringe?”