Three days later, Jessa sat in Retta’s conservatory. The glassed-in room overlooked the expansive backyard and a pool too pristine to use. Not a towel, pool toy, or human in sight.

Today wasn’t about the auction. This counted as day one of Jessa’s official training to join the group. She bumbled her way through most of her interactions with Retta, hoping to say and do the right thing. The facts she didn’t understand about the organization, who was in it, or exactly how the work got done, struck her as huge holes she needed to fill.

They’d already engaged in a few minutes of filler conversation. Done the whole tea-versus-coffee thing. The anxiety burning through Jessa signaled it was time to jump in. “Is the group publicly tied to the charity in any way?”

“No, not publicly. I always think of our private group as the foundation behind the Foundation. Two distinct organizations with very different priorities and values. One files paperwork and is subject to all sorts of disclosure laws. The other not beholden to any sort of formal rules or regulations.”

Not the kind of details Jessa had hoped for, so she tried again. “So none of the members attended last night?”

“A few did.” Retta crossed one leg over the other. Today’s pantsuit was an emerald green and fully professional, as if she’d just stepped off the bench and into a designer’s swanky dressing room. “But I wonder why that matters to you.”

“I’m inquisitive.” When Retta’s expression didn’t change Jessa knew that wasn’t the right answer. “I’d like to know who else is in the group. That’s a normal reaction, isn’t it?”

“You know what you need to know at this point in the process.”

She was off-balance and flailing, but she was starting to suspect that’s exactly what Retta wanted. Jessa felt the pull, like being reeled in until it was too late to shake loose. “How long is the membership process?”

“As long as it takes.”

Okay, then. A conversation where she poked around for answers and Retta threw a roadblock up with every answer didn’t exactly bring clarity. Jessa hoped a discussion of the cases Retta gave her to study might help. The fact scenarios were varied, some horrifying, dealing with children and abuse. One about a father who killed the man he thought kidnapped and murdered his daughter.

None of the fact patterns matched Baines Fielding’s suicide, but Retta had already stated the group wasn’t involved in that. Trying to reopen the discussion only invited Retta’s wrath.

“I read the sample cases you gave me.” Jessa didn’t have them because that’s not how this game worked.