Bess nodded, beaming.

Diana, meanwhile, had put away her tablet and shimmied down from the hood of the car. She tapped Zeke on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. A look passed between them, and then Zeke turned back to us. Diana unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. She started the engine. Then, when Zeke still hadn’t joined her, she gunned it once, twice, three times. The truck roared. Zeke laughed and waved her away.

“Hold your horses, girl. I’m coming!”

He turned back to us. “Nancy, Bess, it’s time for us to part. You have dinner waiting, and I have my own business to take care of. Good to meet you both. You especially, Bess. See you at the Duchess’s party.” He bowed and swooped the wings of his green wool cape like a sorcerer, disappearing into the truck’s cab. Diana pulled out of the spot at top speed and peeled out of the gallery parking lot, headed for the highway.

They’d left so quickly that I hadn’t had time to ask Zeke what he’d meant about the Duchess’s auction.

By the time Bess and I got back to my house, Hannah was already taking a huge tureen of mac and cheese out of the oven. The house smelled buttery and heavenly. My dad and Ned hadn’t arrived yet. Dad was probably making Ned comb through his legal books for one last crucial detail. He was a taskmaster, but that was what made him such an excellent lawyer. He never left anything to chance, preparing for every possible argument the opposing side might throw at him. Sometimes that meant he was late to dinner.

In the kitchen, George was slicing oranges for fruit salad under Hannah’s watchful supervision. George couldn’t always be trusted with pointy objects.

“So what did you hear, Nancy?” George asked. “Do the police have any leads?”

“Officer Gutierrez said there’s not much to go on. And, worse, she thinks the thief won’t stop at stealing one statue. The Duchess’s party is the perfect opportunity for a major heist.”

“Oh, goodness. The poor Duchess,” Hannah fretted. “She must be distraught.”

“Mona Pearl said her grandmother didn’t know the statue was missing in the first place,” I said.

“Why would she? There’s so much art in that house. One little old lady couldn’t possibly keep track of it all,” George said. “Do you have any suspects, Nancy?”

“It must have been someone there at the gallery. The statue went missing while Mona Pearl and Diana were dancing.”

“So it wasn’t Mona Pearl this time, then,” George said.

“No, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility that she had an accomplice. She stole the statue once already. It’s the simplest explanation. Somehow, though, I don’t think this case is simple.”

“You haven’t even told George about our new friend, Zeke,” Bess said, a dreamy look on her face.

“Who’s Zeke?” George asked.

“He’s a poet and a painter,” Bess answered breathlessly. “We met him in the parking lot. He wrote me a poem and made me swallow it.”