“Then you’re one of those unscrupulous types.”

“Whose guiltlesse hart is free from all dishonest deeds or thought of vanitie.” Gillard glanced at Jenness. “Thomas Campion,” he said.

“Nice,” Jenness said.

“McKenzie?” Nina said.

“It’s complicated,” I told her.

“It always is.”

“Sorry.”

“I guess I’ll have to go back to worrying again.”

“Nina…” I let the rest of the sentence hang there. We’ve had this conversation so many times in the past. I reached out and rested my hand on top of hers. She turned her hand over so she could hold mine.

“That’s sweet,” Gillard said.

“Does this change of heart have anything to do with Heavenly Petryk?” Nina asked.

“No. Why do you ask?”

Nina released my hand and wagged her finger at the entrance to the club. Gillard and I both turned to look. Heavenly was standing just inside the doorway, unwinding a long muffler from around her neck.

“Who is she?” Gillard asked.

“Oh, perfect,” I said. “Just perfect.”

“She just might be,” Gillard said.

“Oh, puhleez,” Jenness said.

Gillard turned just in time to see her sliding down to the end of the bar.

“What did I say?” he said.

Heavenly made her way to where we were sitting. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of a stool. Her smile reminded me of the promise on a package of lightbulbs I had recently purchased—“Lasts up to 10 times longer while using 75% less energy.”

“McKenzie, I thought I might find you here,” she told me. “Hello, Nina. You look good. Have you had work done?”

“Heavenly,” Nina replied. “You cause so much joy whenever you go.”

Heavenly smiled at that. “Good one,” she said.

“Heavenly,” Gillard said. “You just might be the most aptly named woman I have ever met.”

“Oh brother,” Nina said before she, too, left the area.

“You know something, Jer?” I said. “You deserve this, you really do.”

“Deserve what?”

“Heavenly Petryk, this is Jeremy Gillard.”

“Call me Jerry,” he said.

“Heavenly represents Tatjana Durakovic.”

“Where have I heard that name?”

“Tatjana Durakovic claims she is the rightful owner of the Jade Lily.”

“That’s right,” Gillard said. “She sent a letter to the old man a couple years ago. Whatever happened about that?”

“Nothing happened,” Heavenly said. “Tatjana’s claim was ignored.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the old man. So, what can I do for you?”

“Heavenly has assured me that if you do not give up the Lily, she is going to steal it,” I said.

“Why not?” Gillard said. “She’s already stolen my heart. Can I get you anything? A drink? Dinner? The number of my hotel suite?”

Heavenly took the stool next to him. She drew her hands behind her head and fluffed her golden hair so Gillard could get a lasting impression of what lay beneath her thin blouse.

“Baileys on the rocks,” she said.

Gillard conveyed Heavenly’s order to Jenness. Jenness served the drink, but she wasn’t happy about it.

Gillard smiled pleasantly. “More and more I find that I am spending time with what my father called the wrong element,” he said. “This is great.”

“Mr. Gillard, McKenzie was not joking earlier,” Heavenly said. “I mean to see the Lily returned to its rightful owner.”

“Well now, Heavenly. According to my attorneys, who are paid an ungodly amount of money to know these things, the Lily belongs to me. Want to see the bill of sale?”

“You purchased stolen goods,” Heavenly said.

“I didn’t. The old man did. The bastard. Say it with me—the bastard.”

Neither Heavenly nor I joined in.

“Ha,” Gillard said. “That’s okay. He was actually a pretty good guy, if I do say so myself.”

“A poor businessman, though,” Heavenly said. “He bankrupted his company.”

“Well, it was his to bankrupt.”

“Now you’re broke.”

Gillard thought that was funny. “Depends on how you look at it,” he said.

“How many ways are there?”

“When dear old Dad died, I thought I had inherited eighty million. A couple of weeks later, I was informed by a very serious man who spoke in a hushed tone that I had actually inherited only eight million dollars. Poor, poor, pitiful me. I had to give up the company plane. Listen, during the Depression—the old man told me this story. He said during the Great Depression, there was this businessman who was worth ten million bucks. When the market crashed, he lost eight million. The next day he committed suicide. He just couldn’t believe it was possible to get by on only two million dollars. And this was back when two million was real money. Kids, I’m not that guy.”