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“It’s just a different set of smoke and mirrors,” Shannon said as they were leaving the sculpture exhibit. They walked to the parking lot and said their goodbyes. “This was such a good idea, Melanie. Let’s not wait another two years before we do it again. I hope to see you sooner than later.”
Melanie thought, not if I see you first.
As soon as she got in her car, she phoned Gilmour and used their code word, “Houston.”
“I’ll meet you at your house.”
They both arrived at Melanie’s at the same time. Gilmour jumped out of his vehicle. “What’s up?”
“Shannon is the caterer for the dinner party this week.”
“Oh boy.” He followed Melanie into the house, where the dogs were sitting at attention in the foyer.
“Come on, fellas.” She led the dogs to the back door, let them out, and unhitched their door so they could come back in when they were ready.
Gilmour and Melanie pulled chairs out from the dining table. “How do you want to handle this?”
“I’m just going to have to do a bang-up job on my disguise. I think the white wig and overexaggerated makeup should work. I’ll make a fake birthmark on the other side of my face to distract from my scar. The wig should also cover most of it.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I seriously doubt Shannon is in on the diamond exchange. If she recognizes me, I’ll have to tell her I’m on an assignment.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“Got any other suggestions?”
“Can you trust her?” Gilmour asked.
“Geez, I hope so. She’s married to my brother.” Melanie hung her head. “Okay. We will proceed according to our loosely concocted plan. Are you sure the diamonds are going to be handed off at the dinner?”
“From what we’ve been able to gather. We don’t know who or how, but we are certain the courier will be someone attending the dinner.”
“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”
“And I’ll always be close at hand, handing out towels to the uber rich.”
* * *
Work at school was moving along at a steady pace. Soon the kids would be jacked up about the forthcoming holidays, and Melanie was enjoying the calm before the storm. Kid storm and diamond storm. She knew it was going to be complicated. At the dinner, she would have to put her powers of observation into high gear. Who seems the most nervous? The most detached? She put those thoughts on hold. It was time for the school announcements.
Principal Alexander’s face appeared on the large screen above the blackboard in the front of the classrooms. “Good morning, everyone.” She paused so all the kids could reply. The principal announced the lunch menu, a fire drill, the next food drive, bake sale, and sign-up for the holiday festival. All of this information would also be sent via email, text, and a printed flyer—covering all bases of communication. She finished up with, “Everyone have a good day. Please be kind.”
Melanie thought that was a nice finish to the morning news. “Please be kind.” The contrast between her two careers was remarkable, yet in one way, they were connected. Previously, she was working on ending a problem. Now, she was working on preventing people from turning into a problem. She was working on the same issue from opposite ends of the spectrum.
Melanie checked her desk diary. There was nothing scheduled. No meetings, no conferences. She phoned Audrey to ask if she could take a personal day on Friday. “I still need more time to unpack a few things. Get an electrician. All that kind of stuff.” Perfectly plausible reason to take a day off. Especially the electrician part. You had to be on their schedule. Not that she had to explain herself, but she was used to having a cover story. Regardless of her explanation, she really did need a day off. A day off from everything. The past week and a half felt more like a year and a half.
* * *
With the exception of knowing Gilmour would be on scene, and James, who would be her driver, she was flying blind. By the time Thursday rolled around, she was mentally ready to take on the identity of Moira Rockwell. As soon as she got home, she began the transformation. She applied a very heavy concealer over her scar and waited for it to set. Then she applied a layer of heavy cover foundation. The steel-gray contacts would match her dress perfectly. She created a dramatic look by blending gray and violet eyeshadow and finished her exotic look with silver eyeliner. The white wig completed her contemporary Cleopatra appearance. Next, she created a fake birthmark on her cheekbone about an inch below the outer corner of her eye, then finished everything off with a spritz of Hermès and a pale lavender lipstick. She stepped into the silky jumpsuit and adorned her neck with the David Yurman necklace, then clipped on the matching earrings, which concealed an earpiece. The black ankle boots gave her just a bit of an edge. She stood in front of the mirror. “Hello. My name is Moira Rockwell. Pleased to meet you.” A rush of adrenaline raced through her veins. Even though this was a much more challenging assignment than the first, she felt ready for it. She was aware the last one had been relatively easy, but it was a good rehearsal for what was to come.
James arrived at seven o’clock. Melanie paused in the doorway. The wrap. She thought it might bring her luck. Not that she was the superstitious type, but it couldn’t hurt.
James did a double take. “You look marvelous, Ms. Rockwell.”
“Thank you, James.” Melanie had to agree. She was looking forward to seeing the expression on Gilmour’s face.
She rode a little over a half hour before the car pulled up to a gated driveway. He pressed the button and announced the arrival of Moira Rockwell. The gates swung open slowly to a long brick drive that led to the multimillion-dollar historic Georgian mansion. A small brass placard at the base of one of the topiaries specified MEMBERS ONLY. James opened the rear passenger door, and Moira ascended the marble steps. Before she could knock, a man wearing a butler’s uniform opened the stained-glass door. He looked exactly as if he’d stepped out of a scene from Downton Abbey. Or was it House of Usher? She stifled a giggle when he said, “Good evening.” Definitely House of Usher. “You’re the first guest to arrive. May I show you to the sitting room?”
