And maybe he was right. The Duchess’s plan did seem strange. Her collection was priceless, and it would be a huge loss to River Heights if the big-city guests took all the best pieces and resold them in their galleries for millions of dollars. I caught more than one guest scanning the walls with an appraising eyeball, considering which piece they’d take home. Or how many they could carry. Was this elegant party about to become a free-for-all?

CHAPTER TEN Lights Out

WE NEVER GOT TO FIND out. Before Mr. Gatewood could speak, the grand chandelier shut off, plunging the ballroom into darkness. The lights in the gallery snuffed out all at once. Someone screamed, and the crowd panicked, stampeding the snack table, grabbing purses, and racing for the exit, where George and I were standing. I held on to the doorframe as people pushed past, pouring out into the gallery, where enough moonlight streamed in through the skylights that the blackout didn’t seem as frightening.

I heard the Duchess’s booming voice cutting through the noise.

“Lesley, help me down!”

“Coming, coming,” replied Mr. Gatewood.

Chief McGinnis was hollering, trying to calm everyone down.

“Please stay where you are, everyone. I’m sure this is just a temporary outage, right, Mrs. Strickland? We’ll get the power back on as quickly as we can!”

Duchess Strickland did not reply. Instead I heard scuffling—the sound of a large, ungainly object sliding over a smooth surface. Then something heavy slammed down. The crash echoed through the emptying space. What had fallen? Where was the Duchess now?

Someone shoved my shoulder from behind, pushing against the tide into the ballroom. I whirled around, but the person’s face was in shadow and their body seemed to be entirely covered in a strange furry material.

“Excuse you!” I called out, but they didn’t stop. I heard other people yelp, one after another, their complaints marking the shover’s path through the darkness. Whoever it was, they were making their way toward the Duchess’s throne.

“Is this a second art heist in progress?” I asked George. Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew she’d replied with a shrug.

“I don’t know. Why would someone rob the Duchess when she was going to give everything away for free?”

“Stop! Thief!” I called, but my voice was swallowed in the crush of frightened people pushing their way out of the ballroom. I heard something that could only be described as slithering, like the sound of a snake moving quickly through grass, or a satin ribbon coming undone. …

With the help of the security guards, his officers, and a lot more shouting, Chief McGinnis managed to corral everyone in the gallery. Gradually, the guests settled down into impatient complaining.

George and I stayed where we were, watching everything. Even if that rude stranger was an art thief, they wouldn’t be able to carry anything out past us in the doorway and the crowd in the gallery. Unless there was another way out of the ballroom.