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houseguest while I was gone.” She took a deep breath, knowing the calm was there, if only she could reach it. “I have no idea who the woman was, unless it was one of the burglars. How did she—” Grace look up again at the broken railing, the viciously sharp edges of wood. “She must have been pushed.”
    â€œThat has yet to be determined.”
    â€œI’m sure it has. I can’t help you as to who she was, Lieutenant. As I don’t have a twin, I can only—” She broke off, her color draining a second time. Now her free hand fisted and pressed hard to her stomach. “Oh, no. Oh, God.”
    He understood, didn’t hesitate. “Who was she?”
    â€œI— It could have been… She’s stayed here before while I was away. That’s why I stopped leaving a spare key outside. She might have had it copied, though. She’d think nothing of that.”
    Turning her gaze away from the outline, she walked back through the debris, sat on the arm of the sofa. “A cousin.” Grace sipped brandy again, slowly, letting it ease warmth back into her system. “Melissa Bennington— No, I think she took the Fontaine back a few months ago, after the divorce. I’m not sure.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “I wasn’t interested enough to be sure of a detail like that.”
    â€œShe resembles you?”
    She offered a weak, humorless smile. “It’s Melissa’s mission to be me. I went from finding it mildly flattering to mildly annoying. In the last few years I found it pathetic. There’s a surface resemblance, I suppose. She’s augmented it. She let her hair grow, dyed it my color. There was some difference in build, but she…augmented that, as well.She shops the same stores, uses the same salons. Chooses the same men. We grew up together, more or less. She always felt I got the better deal on all manner of levels.”
    She made herself look back, look down, and felt a wash of grief and pity. “Apparently I did, this time around.”
    â€œIf someone didn’t know you well, could they mistake you?”
    â€œA passing glance, I suppose. Maybe a casual acquaintance. No one who—” She broke off again, got to her feet. “You think someone killed her believing her to be me? Mistaking her for me, as you did? That’s absurd. It was a break-in, a burglary. A terrible accident.”
    â€œIt’s possible.” He had indeed taken out his book to note down her cousin’s name. Now he glanced up, met her eyes. “It’s also more than possible that someone came here, mistook her for you, and assumed she had the third Star.”
    She was good, he decided. There was barely a flicker in her eyes before she lied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    â€œYes, you do. And if you haven’t been home since Wednesday, you still have it.” He glanced down at the bag she continued to hold.
    â€œI don’t generally carry stars in my purse.” She sent him a smile that was shaky around the edges.“But it’s a lovely, almost poetic, thought. Now, I’m very tired—”
    â€œMs. Fontaine.” His voice was clipped and cool. “This victim is the sixth body I’ve dealt with today that traces back to those three blue diamonds.”
    Her hand shot out, gripped his arm. “M.J. and Bailey?”
    â€œYour friends are fine.” He felt her grip go limp. “They’ve had an eventful holiday weekend, all of which could have been avoided if they’d contacted and cooperated with the police. And it’s cooperation I’ll have from you now, one way or the other.”
    She tossed her hair back. “Where are they? What did you do, toss them in a cell? My lawyer will have them out and your butt in a sling before you can finish reciting the Miranda.” She started toward the phone, saw it wasn’t on the