“Tonight I’m going to a party across the hall from Nat’s apartment. The woman who lives there is trying to get most of the people back who were there at her singles party last night. I might ask you to do some checks on them.” She pulled the red box out of her purse. It was wrapped in a plastic bag. “Can you run this for prints?”

“I’d be happy to. We’ll do anything to be of assistance.” He paused. “Regan, there’s no record of these diamonds. Pilsner is the only one who saw them. There’s no appraisal slip. This could be much ado about nothing. If they do exist, they might be worth a heck of a lot less than four million dollars.”

“I understand,” Regan said. “But for these next few days I’ll be the in-house detective at the Settlers’ Club. I’ll see what I can dig up.” She stood and extended her hand to him.

“Jack Reilly’s a great guy.”

“I know,” she said, smiling.

22

Janey pulled a sizzling-hot apple pie out of the oven. Her little one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the Settlers’ Club always had delicious smells wafting from it. If it wasn’t the baked goods she was making for dessert, it was one of her specialties such as lasagna or meat loaf or any one of the other comfort foods she enjoyed preparing for her clients.

She loved going into their apartments and filling their refrigerators and freezers with her plastic containers full of food. It excited her to think of them coming home after a hard day and zapping her loving efforts in the microwave. And now she was preparing some special desserts for the anniversary party at the club, including a huge tiered white cake they’d display on a big white table decorated with red ribbons.

Anything to cheer Thomas up.

Hey, I lost two clients yesterday, she thought. Nat and Ben had both loved her cooking. She had even dropped food off at Ben’s apartment yesterday when he was out. Now it’ll just go to waste, she thought.

It had been a busy week, and after she finished preparing the cakes and pies, she planned to go back to the club. Her phone rang just as she was placing the apple pie under the window to cool. It was Mrs. Buckland, a good but demanding client.

“Janey, I’m having three unexpected guests for dinner and I need food.”

“But Mrs. Buckland …” Janey began.

“I know you can do it, Janey. Didn’t I introduce you to all my friends?”

Janey held the phone in her hand, trying to figure out what to do. After a moment, she said, “Okay, Mrs. Buckland. What time do you need it?”

“In a couple of hours. Thank you.”