the top deck. The next few pages were set on the beach, but the theme was the same. There were no photographs of Ben and Stella together until I got to the middle of the album. It was a party at their home. He had his arm around her waist, his face turned to hers. She was leaning away, facing the camera. Her gold locket glowed against her tawny skin. Her smile was unnaturally stiff, as if forced.

There were more shots of Stella and Alisha at the same party. One included a dark-haired man with intense eyes and a thick, muscular build. Standing between the two women, he was about a foot taller than my sister and looked at least ten years older. He had draped his arm over her shoulder and tipped his head toward hers. Her smile seemed genuine and relaxed.

“That’s Adelmo Balsuto. See, I wrote his name here.” She pointed to the caption: Adelmo with us at the party in my honor. “He’s one of Ben’s business associates. Very handsome and super-rich, but he gave me the creeps. Always lurking. Ben totally sucked up to him. But Stella, well, you can never tell if she really likes someone or if she’s just being Stella.”

“You’re right. I couldn’t tell she wanted the man I planned to marry.” I knew how bitter that sounded, but I couldn’t help it. How many times had I excused my sister’s behavior because it was Stella just being Stella? All the times she’d been late or failed to show because something better came along or the projects she started and never finished or the people she finished with.

Alisha’s face turned a vivid shade of pink, providing a splash of color in the otherwise colorless room.

“I doubt if you care and I don’t blame you, but she seemed pretty miserable. She and Ben hardly spoke to each other, and he was jumpy and weird.” She picked a long strand of cat hair off the pillow beside her. Then she lowered her voice and asked, “You don’t think Ben would hurt her, do you?”

“What makes you say that? Did you see something?”

I thought of the times I’d had a peek behind the curtain at what Ben looked like when he lost his temper. My stomach roiled. If I hadn’t ignored those little warning signs that the man I loved might have a dark, ugly side, I would have never agreed to marry him. And if I hadn’t wanted him, would Stella have found him as appealing? Somehow, I didn’t think so.

“No, no. I never even saw him touch her unless they were posing for pictures. It was little things like the way she jumped when he came up behind her or laughed too loud at his jokes. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what goes on between a couple when no one else is around.”

She paused and ran her fingers through her perfect ponytail. It struck me her marriage might not be so perfect.

“It’s hard for me to put my finger on it. She just wasn’t her old self. You remember how popular she was.”

She looked at me as if she expected a response. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, now she doesn’t have any real friends. I felt sorry for her and offered to stay longer. But she said she was fine, and I should go home to Greg. I’m certain there was something she wasn’t telling me. I tried to get in touch with her for weeks after I got home, but she never returned my calls.”

She looked at her watch and leaped to her feet. “Oh, my God! It’s almost one! I’m sorry, Grace, but I can’t be late for this appointment. Svetlana is the absolute best. Almost painless. Why don’t you take the album? When you bring it back, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

She hurried me through the Arctic tundra and held the door open for me as I slipped back into my shoes. “I shouldn’t have said anything about Ben. He would never hurt Stella. Right?”

“I don’t know what Ben might do. But I guess I’m going to find out.”

Chapter 6

That night I dreamed of Stella. We were in the house we shared with Gran after my parents divorced. My sister and I were playing in the small backyard. She was hanging upside down from a tree branch. The day was so brilliant, I had to shield my eyes. Dark clouds appeared out of nowhere, and rain pelted down. Thunder rumbled in the background. I tried to call out to her, to insist she come down. The words stuck in my throat. I wanted to run to her, but a slash of blinding light cut across the sky, rendering me immobile. My sister smiled up at me from her topsy-turvy angle just before another flash of lightning split the air. The branch electrified with the fiery blast, and Stella was gone.

When I bolted up in bed, a cold wet nose pressed against my cheek. I was eye to eye with the Doberman.

“I’m sorry, Miss Scarlett. I didn’t mean to wake you.” I rubbed her smooth snout. She put her paws on the bed and scooted herself up with her hind legs. She stepped over me, lay down, and placed her foreleg over my hip, her muzzle on my shoulder. I’ve never been much of a spooner. But this was the first time Scarlett had approached me in such an intimate way. I accepted her gesture as the gift it was and fell asleep to her gentle snoring.

.     .     .     .     .

When I woke, my cell was buzzing. I rolled onto the space where Scarlett had been and answered it. It was my client and friend Carla Frazier, owner of a boutique lingerie shop that catered to women who, like Carla herself, were more than well endowed. Like Lesroy, she had refused to give up on me. She used her status to lure me to lunches and dinners that

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