The chef had his back turned, plating the last of the desserts, and she took a small, sharp paring knife off a cutting board. The contours of the hilt fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, like the hand of an old dance partner. She slipped the serrated blade snuggly up the long sleeve of her Alexander McQueen blouse. Pressed against her flesh, the cold metal stung lightly, raising the tiny hairs on her arm. It had been years since she’d felt this sort of charge.

Then she was gone into the night after the bartender.

Henry

Jules was right. It had to be Claudine who brought the statue. But she was wrong about why. The motive wasn’t shielding her guests from a bad present. It was to send him a message. Keep him in line. She had concocted an impressive, elaborate scheme to intimidate him. She had thought of everything. Except Zara wanting the statue. That’s when she slipped up. Trying so hard to keep it from Zara. She never imagined that. Now their murder weapon was in the hands of a stranger. And not just any stranger. One of the most famous people on the planet. Henry could just see the tabloid photos of Zara returning home to L.A. with the statue under her arm and how wild social media would go with rumors about what it was. Look at how those true-crime junkies and amateur detectives online managed to solve the Golden State Killer case. It wouldn’t take long for people to figure it out. Him and Claudine put away by a pop star’s super-groupies. He had to admit, it was pretty funny.

At least, it would be if that was how it happened. There wasn’t a chance Zara would be leaving with the statue. Claudine wasn’t one to accept her fate, most likely she already had a plan. Not until she had it. Henry was worried about Zara, but he was also worried about Claudine. He couldn’t help it. The bodyguard would need distracting, the dog, the guests—if she was going to pull something off there were a lot of details to contend with. She would need his help.

Henry looked around for her. They needed to talk. To figure this out. Together. Like she said, nobody could beat them when they worked as a team.

He caught a glimpse of her as she followed someone out of the living room. He couldn’t tell who it was. Someone in a coat with an upturned hood. A new recruit? Drink in hand, he started for the door.

Claudine