he air and the scowl etched deeply onto Linda Sterling's face. She was rearranging th

onation, Linda," Lucas mumbl

that hung off one shoulder and a pair of black leggings. Leo

from his phone. He let out a low whistle, his eyes track

n said without breaking stride. She

eed an application for welfare, dear? Or perhaps a les

ces of toast from the center platter

ignificantly. "The 'Midnight Orchid' painting is the final lot. The buyer... the buy

sant with aggressive strokes. "She doesn't have a gown. Sh

g no room for argument. "I need her there t

le. "Fine. I'll have something sent to her room. Something from the st

r laptop. She connected to a secure server. A message fr

as painted over an older work. Our scans show the original contains a ledger

political problems anymore. It was about her children. That l

price? s

millio

om the sale of her mother's hidden jewelry collect

the auction. She had to stall, or

uld only be described as a pepto-bismol nightmare. It was pink, covered in cheap sequins, with

nkling her nose. "Are

it up. "No

heavy-duty fabric shears. Her eyes narrowed.

a roll of black gaffer's tape from her kit and wrapped it tightly around the waist, creating a m

intentional. Aggressive. She applied dark red lipstick,

ving room that evening, sil

the words died in her throat. Imogen didn't look like a poor relation. She looked l

lightly open. Linda reached

o," Imog

converted into a high-security event space. The line to get in was slow

ystem," Imogen wh

in," Lucas s

cas's own. As she approached the scanner, she held it at a slight angle. T

rating in her chest. The lights

again. The pric

l, a man was standing with a drink in his hand. He was lo

on Re

e woman in the slashed pink dress and combat b

he school?" Quentin asked

ks like it. What is she doing here? Hunting f

laughed. "Bold outfi

dn't move like she was looking for attention. She

" Branson said. "She