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Did Piper want to talk to anyone here?

No. She didn’t.

Piper stepped back behind a column, remarking that the seafoam dress was surprisingly similar in hue to the flocked wallpaper, and thought perhaps the stylist was hinting that she should take up the role of wallflower.

“Happy to oblige.” Especially because as Piper moved through the room to this alcove, the room was humming with speculation about what had happened after the Le Canard Frou-Frou luncheon.

Piper slid her phone from her sequined handbag to check the time. 7:45. In fifteen minutes she’d make her way downstairs to reception, which had the only elevator that went to the basement.

A tuxedoed man, younger than most in the room, moved to the dais and said, “The catering staff is now passing a tray of champagne. Won’t everyone please accept a glass? We will be making a toast.”

Servers came through the doors with trays of champagne flutes. A titter of interest rippled across the guests.

Piper stayed by her column. She wasn’t drinking that night, not even a sip. She thought she might still be under the sway of the Tarot chariot. Whatever that meant, Piper wasn’t taking any chances.

“I have an invitation to go down to the chemistry lab they have here in the basement to hear Dr. Piper Phillips speak. You were at the lunch yesterday. Did you see when she was attacked?”

“I didn’t. She’s quite an emotional young woman. Her speech was much too personal for the British taste. We’re reserved and self-effacing as a rule. And her talk was not either. Though, I will say, Lionel and Amanda Harcourt are magnanimous people, generous to a fault. At least Dr. Phillips was properly effusive toward their charitable natures. It was out of love and devotion that Lionel and Amanda funded the research. They were at university together, you know, the woman’s father and Lionel. The man died of the disease Lionel was trying to cure.”

“No, I didn’t know. Isn’t that ironic? Have you seen Lionel lately? He looks amazing. Whatever they have in the water over on his island is putting him back to his thirties.”

“His plastic surgeon, you mean.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the tuxedoed man said. “Let me see you with your glasses raised.” He directed the server to the three people without champagne. “It’s important that we all toast.” He waited until every guest raised their champagne glass. “This week our dear Amanda was endangered. And we are all so very grateful that she was able to fight off the terrible people who tried to harm her. A toast to Brave Amanda.”

“Brave Amanda!” they pronounced in unison, then tipped the glasses back.

“Speaking of Amanda, going back to this Dr. Phillips person.” The British woman on the other side of her column said. “The thing that I found striking was how similar she looked to Amanda. Hyacinth and I speculated that the reason they both caught a scoundrel’s attention was the formula Dr. Phillips is working on, and perhaps they mistook Amanda for Dr. Phillips.”

“I can’t imagine. Does this champagne taste off to you?”

“More bitter than I’m used to. Perhaps it’s a California faux champagne. I have a theory about Dr. Phillips. It’s rather fun. Did you know the little blue pill our husbands are taking was developed for angina? Turns out that it has more than one use, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe it’s a blue pill for women.”

The women laughed, moving off to set the empty glasses on the server’s tray.

Piper used the empty space to move to the stairs, going down to reception where she finger-waved at Jay, then stood by the elevator, retrieving her badge.

“No, ma’am, that’s not necessary,” Jay said. “The security systems were lifted in the building so that the guests can move about. We keep things under tighter control when people are working to protect corporate secrets.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Piper slid the badge back in her purse and pressed the button.

As the door opened, the man, who had been admiring the stained-glass window, stepped up beside her.

“I’m going down,” Piper said, reaching for the basement button.

He pushed her inside as the door slid shut.

He pushed her all the way up against the far wall, until she could hardly breathe. She felt a prick in her hip and a burning sensation. When he released her, he was holding an empty syringe as he slapped a hand across her mouth.

“I’ve poisoned you.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out another syringe. “This one’s the antidote. If you do what I say, you get this. If you do anything I don’t like? You get the consequences.”

Did his voice sound familiar?

The door opened, and they stepped out.

He’d pulled on a medical mask while she was pressed against the elevator wall, and Piper hadn’t focused on his face. She had no idea who he was or what he looked like.