On the surface it looked like a successful party at a lovely club. But was it? Stanley was catching all the fun with his video camera, while the reporter who’d broken the scandalous story in the New York World hadn’t dared to show up.

Regan was circulating, keeping an eye out for Georgette. So far there had been no sign of her. Clara was sipping a vodka martini. Thomas and Janey were doing their best to act as hosts. Lydia was chatting with a group in the corner, no doubt trying to recruit them for her own soirées. Maldwin watched over his butlers as they made sure everyone had a drink and was well taken care of. Daphne had not been seen at all. She had been so upset with Thomas about the sheep and her lost opportunity in Jacques Harlow’s movies that Regan felt a little sorry for her.

Now if only Jack would get here, Regan thought as she joined the group around her mother and father.

“Those sheep are so interesting,” Nora said. “I like them.”

“So did the movie director who didn’t want to give them back. I guess they’re much more valuable than one might think at first glance.”

“Their eyes do have a certain sparkle,” Nora said.

Regan looked over and noticed a dark-haired woman hanging around by the sheep and occasionally staring up at them. Something about her seemed familiar, but Regan was sure she hadn’t been at the singles party.

“Oh, here’s Kyle Fleming,” Nora said as she spotted Kyle coming through the door. “Regan, you should meet him. He gave the best lecture on con artists.”

“I’d love to,” Regan said.

Thomas was scheduled to give a toast right before they started the buffet line at eight. He went into his office to get out his notes. He’d worked hard on his little speech. If they were ever going to rustle up any new members for the club, now was the time to motivate them.

Thomas shut the door, walked over to his desk, and sat down. When he looked up, Daphne was leaning against the opposite wall, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Daphne!”

“Can you come out back with me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I need some air. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“Of course!”

“Where’s Thomas?” Janey asked Regan.

“I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s not in his office and he’s supposed to give a toast.”

“Excuse me!”

Everyone turned to see a man who looked as if he’d had a few too many drinks climb the ladder near the sheep. He waved his arms at the crowd.

“I’d like to make an annoucement,” he slurred. “My name is Burkhard, and I know that some of you are here from Lydia Sevatura’s singles parties. I just thought that you should know that she has been making fun—”