But I did.

Makayla nodded. “You and your sisters always like to fix stuff. Like three fairy god-sisters. It’s awesome. Everybody knows about it. Leonard and I talk about it all the time. Rebecca Covington-Sumner even wrote about it in her column once. Did you want me as an intern because I lost my mom and dad, too? Did you want to fix things for me because you couldn’t fix Mr. Clayworth?”

The rush of sympathy, of memories of Drew as a wounded teenager, had consumed Athena as she’d read Makayla’s application and looked into her soulful eyes. Very different eyes than Drew’s. Not startling blue, glistening with unshed tears that had ripped her heart out. But lost, like he’d looked.

Yes. But I didn’t realize it until this instant.

Athena smiled, fighting back tears and regrets and a million other feelings welling up from where she’d buried them so long ago. “You earned this internship because you’re wonderful and brilliant.” And I want you to stay this way and not change like Drew did.

Dazed by this newest epiphany, Athena gave Makayla a huge hug. “Now be your wonderful, brilliant self and finish cataloguing these pieces for me while I go to my last hopes of where a fence might have tried to sell Bertha’s gowns in the city.”

The House of Flan looked pained at the very idea they would buy from a fence.

Southley’s practically showed Athena the door.

Kristie’s did tell her they were insulted they were even on her list of establishments that would be approached with stolen property and did show her the door. Ever so politely, of course.

By the time Athena walked into Lance Simmons Antiques, her hopes of finding a lead to the dresses were pretty much gone. She could barely muster a smile for Viola Bloom, Lance’s assistant, who stood at the reception desk waiting for her.

“I’m sorry, Athena, but Lance wants me in his office for an important meeting. I’m sure I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Nodding, Athena flung herself into a chair to wait.

Little screams of pleasure coming from Lance’s office drove her to the open door.

Viola clung to Lance, sobbing all over his cream-on-cream striped silk three-piece suit. Over his shoulder, she looked up at Athena. “We’re getting married!” she cried and thrust out her hand to reveal a magnificent square-cut emerald ring worth a fortune.

“I must call my mother,” Viola gasped, then threw Lance a kiss and rushed past Athena, who stood in the doorway.

Lance sat down hard on the cream leather couch, where he blended right in except for his flushed cheeks and red mutton-chop sideburns.

Athena didn’t need to see his slightly unfocused watery-brown eyes to realize Bertha’s degrading stays had struck again.

“Lance, you need to see your doctor,” Athena said gently and perched beside him.

“I’ve never felt better in my life,” he boomed, beating his chest with his fists. “I’m sweeping the woman of my dreams off her feet. We’re leaving all of this behind.” He gestured to his office full of beautiful antiques. He squinted at his snuffbox collection displayed prominently on the cherry bookcase. “Not all,” he amended. “We’re taking our favorites to fill the bed and breakfast we’ll purchase in Sonoma Valley. With a vineyard. We’ll have our own label. Called Viola,” he sighed.

Honestly, Athena had never seen him look so blissful, even when acquiring a priceless artifact for a pittance. She wanted to be gentle. “Lance, I wish you both so much happiness, but—”

“No more buts! No more doubts. Now the world is clear, like the finest piece of crystal,” he interrupted, surging to his feet. “I thought perhaps Viola has been my devoted assistant for thirty years because I paid well. I thought perhaps she doesn’t feel the same way about me that I feel for her. But now I know all of that to be false.” He sighed, and a deep crease appeared between his bushy red eyebrows. “Maybe all this time I should have been asking if the items I’ve been purchasing were hot, instead of keeping my mouth shut and doing the deal under the table.”

All at once he beamed up at her, looking positively angelic. “But maybe now I will, because I’m a manly man again!”

“I can see that.” Athena stood eyeball to eyeball with him. “About those items you should have inquired about. The last one was a Bertha Palmer gown, right?”

He stared at her. “Why, yes. Glorious piece. Exquisite workmanship. I handled it myself. I sold it to one of my best clients, Shelby Anderson, a few hours ago. She fell in love with it.”

Athena held his eyes in a steely stare. “Lance, this is very, very important. I need her address and phone number at once.”

His posture screamed indignation. “You know very well Viola and I never divulge details of our client list. We are sworn to secrecy. Never, I say! Never will I tell you she lives in Lincoln Park. I say, is it hot in here?” Lance asked, running one finger around his tight shirt collar.

“Yes. Sit down.” She wanted to keep prodding him for the address, but he needed help, and she had another idea. “I’ll send Viola in to you, and she’ll take you someplace where you’ll feel much better very soon.”

“Thank you, dear Athena,” he smiled up at her. “Be blissful, my dear, and make the right choices.”

“I’m working on it.” She blew him a kiss and went to find Viola weeping into the phone.

Athena touched her shoulder. “You need to take Lance to the Northwestern ER. Ask for Dr. Lewis Stemmer.”

Viola dropped the receiver and curled both hands around her ring. “Is he all right? He isn’t having second thoughts about us, is he?”

“No, he’ll remember that he loves you. Everything will be fine. When you reach the ER, Dr. Stemmer will explain what is happening.”

Love appeared to be the constant with the truth serum. Oh, yes, Athena had had her moment of clarity, but it had confused her even more.

She remembered loving Drew so much she ached with it. But it had been a mistake then. And now. Drew had never forgiven her for her second mistake with him.

She didn’t want to make any new mistakes in their hunt for Bertha’s gowns.

She knew there were probably dozens of Andersons living in Lincoln Park, but most of them no doubt had one thing in common besides their name. She headed straight to Clayworth’s.

Drew sat in his office listening to Connor report that so far Ed had come up empty-handed in his investigation. Drew hoped Athena could come up with more. Time was running out. He was leaving for the Fastnet in two weeks and they had to find the dresses before then.

A sound in the doorway made him glance up.

For a heartbeat he thought he might be hallucinating, because he wanted to see her. Like last night he’d muttered everything he’d wanted to say.

He pulled himself together and stood up. “Perfect timing, Athena. We were talking about the investigation.”

“I have a lead on another dress.”

Connor shot her a hard look. “Where did you get your information?”

Athena shook her head and moved close enough so Drew could see the small bruise on her wrist.

“It doesn’t matter. I believe it was bought in good faith by a Shelby Anderson.”

“Christ, Athena,” Drew laughed. “There are thousands of Andersons in the greater Chicago area.”

Her smile lit up the room. “I know, but this one lives in Lincoln Park, and what do you bet she has a Clayworth charge card like most women in the city? If there’s more than one Shelby Anderson, we’ll check them all until we find the right one.”

That edge of desire and delight he’d felt in the lab came roaring back. This time he knew it couldn’t be exposure to truth gas. He remembered it from other times and places as pure Athena.

“Brilliant. Check on it, Connor.”

“It’s against Clayworth policy to give out information about our customers.”