“Penelope, it’s Athena Smith,” she called softly from the foot of the bed.

“Thank God you’ve come,” Penelope groaned and flung the cloth to the floor. Tears hanging on her lashes, mascara smeared around her eyes, Penelope stared up from the pile of pillows. “I want you to know I purchased the Bertha Palmer gown to donate to the museum. You should also know I’ve never done anything so reckless before, but the gown was impossible to resist, so I wore it. I know you understand, since you did the same.”

Confronted by every costume curator’s nightmare, Athena swallowed back her gasp of disbelief. “I didn’t exactly wear the gown,” she demurred.

“No?” Penelope lifted one finely arched brow. “Dr. Stemmer told me you suffered a similar reaction. What happened? I must know.”

She identified with the real distress in Penelope’s eyes and wanted to be as truthful as possible without adding to it. “After examining the gown, I began to hallucinate. I thought Bertha Palmer had come to life for a visit with me.”

“Nothing else? You didn’t, shall we say, expose yourself in any scandalous way?” Penelope asked, an edge of panic in her voice.

All she remembered was attacking Drew Clayworth and revealing feelings she’d planned to take to the grave. Obviously, the truth serum affected everyone slightly differently.

But she knew what Penelope needed to hear. “I’m afraid I behaved rather foolishly.”

“Foolish?” Penelope gasped. “I made a complete and utter ass out of myself in the middle of Clayworth’s. I’m mortified! I’ll never live this down.”

Athena felt Penelope’s pain. They had both made fools out of themselves. Plus Athena had reopened a painful wound that had never fully healed.

Wanting to comfort her, Athena patted Penelope’s shoulder. “We’re in this together.”

“I knew you’d understand. I’m not totally ruined? When the gossip starts, you’ll make sure people know I was under the influence of a dangerous toxic matter?” Penelope’s voice caught in a sob.

Worried about the truly stricken look on her face, Athena nodded and leaned closer. “I promise. Together we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. Did you purchase all four Bertha Palmer gowns?”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “My dear, the one I purchased cost a fortune, even with the tax deduction I’ll receive once I donate it to the museum.”

Disappointment burned a hole in Athena’s already heaving stomach. “Where is the gown now?”

“In the dressing room at my condo. Dear God!” Penelope gasped. “It hasn’t infected my entire wardrobe, has it? I have a divine new Lanvin I plan to wear to the Lincoln Park Zoo Ball.”

“Did the gown brush against any of your other clothes?”

“No, thank God.” Penelope closed her eyes. An instant later she lifted her lids and her eyes had a little of their old steely glint. “What should we do about this horror?”

“If you’ll allow Drew Clayworth and me to retrieve the gown, you can put this whole unfortunate episode behind you.”

“I’ll call Betty immediately. She’ll let you into my condo. I won’t forget this, Athena,” Penelope declared with real feeling. “I’ll be away for a while. I’m going to Hawaii to visit my ex-husband, Jim. I plan to throw myself at his feet and beg his forgiveness. I should never have left him. I wanted my career as a cabaret singer so desperately I couldn’t think of anything or anyone else. I couldn’t see the truth.”

“You have a lovely voice,” Athena said, meaning it.

“I know, but now I understand I can have a singing career and my husband. Which I plan to do,” she sighed, looking content for the first time in years.

“Thank you, Penelope. Rest easy now, and safe travels.” Athena backed out of the room.

In the hallway, Drew stood waiting for her. He reached out and then quickly dropped his hands back to his sides. She had the oddest feeling he wanted to rip off her glasses.

She stuck them firmly back into place, high on her nose. “Penelope has only one of the gowns. It’s in her condo on Lake Shore Drive.”

Drew nodded. “Lewis says she’s well enough for Connor to question her about the fence who sold it to her. That fence probably had all four dresses. What now?”

I’m a lady on a mission.

“We stop at my office for supplies, and then we go save Bertha’s gown.”

Betty opened the door to Penelope’s condo, and the foyer light reflected off the marble floor to fall into the large rooms, decorated in black and white art deco, sprawling, quiet as the museum after hours.

“Mrs. Knowles called to say I should let you in and then to leave immediately for health reasons.” Betty already had her coat on. “Should I stay, or will you lock up when you finish?”

“I’ll take care of it. Thank you,” Athena smiled up at Betty, who almost ran out the door and slammed it shut behind her.

“I’ve been here many times for parties. The master bedroom is this way.” She led Drew through the large white and gold bedroom into Penelope’s enviably spacious dressing room and closet.

On a large brass hook next to the three-way mirror hung a pale yellow velvet gown with a natural-size design of tulips and leaves in yellow satin and trimmed with white satin bows tipped with rhinestone ornaments.

I never examined this Worth evening gown.

Disappointment rooted her to the thick, plush white carpet. “Oh, no! It’s not one of the two gowns I actually touched before I became ill.”

Drew moved past her to the dress. “That must mean all four Bertha Palmer gowns are infected. We need to take this one back to the lab.” He reached out.

“Don’t touch it!” She grabbed his hand away just as his fingers brushed the delicate velvet.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “This is Clayworth property. Clayworth responsibility.”

“This isn’t all about you,” she declared, stepping between him and Bertha’s infected gown. “It’s about preserving pieces of Chicago’s heritage. Children need a sense of history. If we all studied the past, we wouldn’t keep making the same stupid mistakes. Stand over there and let me handle this.”

She ignored him to slip on Playtex gloves and shake out a long, heavy plastic bag from her black tote.

With exaggerated care, she adjusted the dress on the gold padded hanger and slowly zipped the bag. “There. Safe.”

“All right. Now we take it to Lewis Stemmer’s lab,” Drew said matter-of-factly like the decision had been made.

A vise squeezed Athena’s chest, like one of Bertha’s corsets. The gown looked forlorn in its clear, sterile bag. It was to be treated with the respect its workmanship deserved.

“Oh, no, we don’t. The museum has the best resources for the gown—it needs to go into a proper cold-storage unit.”

He narrowed his eyes, so she couldn’t read them. “I’ve let you do this much. No more. You could become ill again.”

She thrust her chin toward the ten-foot ceiling. “I’ll risk it to save this dress.”

His mouth set in a long line. “I’m not willing to let you risk it.”

His arrogance made her even more determined. “Well, you’ll just have to get used to it if you want my help to find the rest of the dresses. We’re going to my lab whether you like it or not.”

When Drew followed Athena into the pristine lab in the bowels of the museum, the same young girl who had been at the hospital gave him a long look.

Do I look as agitated as I feel? This is too risky for Athena, and she damn well knows it.

He rolled his shoulders, stress making him hot under the collar.

“Makayla, we’ve found one of Bertha’s dresses. I’m sorry, but I must ask you to leave now. I don’t want to risk you getting infected.” Athena held open the door.

Makayla had one of those faces that’s easy to read. Disappointment was written all over it.