Erika blinked. “The watches?”

“That were stolen.” The wife sniffed and took another tissue from a white box. “We called the police as soon as my husband got home from Idaho and discovered they were missing. He went into the safe in our closet and saw they were gone. They were part of his collection. He always told me how much they were, but I don’t . . . I can’t remember now. But several hundred thousand dollars.”

Erika glanced around at the ceiling, taking note of the pods that were mounted in the corners of the gallery space. “You have a security system here, correct?”

“There was no footage from that night . . . something went wrong.”

“So you have cameras, too.” When the wife nodded, Erika frowned. “The alarm was engaged when you think the theft occurred?”

“I was here alone. I swear I put it on, but I maybe did something wrong. Maybe I turned the cameras off—oh, God, what did they do to him?” Those eyes lifted again. “There’s so much blood . . . and his body . . .”

As the wife started to get agitated, Erika shook her head. “Try not to think about that.”

What a bullshit thing to say. But what else was there?

“I can’t unsee it. Every time I blink, I see him on the floor—there’s so much blood. So much . . .”

As the wife’s words drifted, she stared off across the fine carpeting—and it was as Erika studied her profile that the sparkling at the woman’s throat registered.

Holy . . . fuck, she was wearing a diamond necklace—and not a diamond that was on a necklace, but a collar of diamonds that glittered with every ragged breath she took. So many diamonds.

A set of blunt and buffed fingertips felt over the stones, as if the wife had noticed Erika looking at the jewels. “My husband gave this to me for our anniversary last year.”

“It’s . . . incredibly beautiful,” Erika murmured.

“I feel beautiful when I wear it now.” The woman closed her eyes. “It keeps me warm at night when my husband doesn’t. Didn’t.”

Erika made a mental note, but wondered what kind of jealous lover had the strength to rip a grown man apart.

“No, I didn’t kill my husband.” The wife’s stare shot over. “I would never . . . he may have been with someone else, but I loved him and—”

“You’re not a suspect.” Erika noted all those totally clean fingernails. “And I don’t judge.”

There was a moment when the two of them just looked at each other. Then the wife took a deep breath and dropped her eyes to her tissue again.

“I feel disloyal,” she muttered, “even though he was the unfaithful one. Oh, God, Herb’s dead.”

As she started to cry again, Delorean appeared in the archway of the gallery, but Erika shook her head. When he nodded and backed off, she appreciated his discretion.

“I just want to be back in my dream.”

Erika refocused on the wife. “What dream?”

“The night the watches were stolen . . . I had this incredible dream. This man came to me, and he . . . well, he told me to wear this and feel beautiful.” The wife sighed. “But none of that was real, and I shouldn’t be thinking about that now, should I.”

“Sometimes the mind retreats,” Erika said softly, “to wherever it can. Sometimes those retreats are the only reason we get through things. So if you want to remember a dream like that on a night like this? You fucking do it.”

The wife turned and tilted her head. As her eyes focused, it was as if she were seeing Erika properly for the first time.

“Is the person who did that . . . going to come back?” she said hoarsely. “And why didn’t they come after me upstairs?”

“Are you aware of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband?”

“No. He was a stand-up man. In business, at least. Am I in danger here?”

“Do you have another place you could stay?”

“Not really.” The wife looked around. “But the bedroom suite is a panic room. I guess I could initiate the lockdown and stay here.”

“Whatever feels right to you. If you do stay, though, how about we do a sweep up there so you’re sure there’s no one hiding in any of the rooms?”

“I would really appreciate that.”

Erika looked at the diamonds. And thought . . . she knew what it was like to not feel beautiful. Except in her case, it wasn’t because some man wasn’t treating her right or disrespecting her with other females.

It was because there hadn’t been a man for a very, very long time.

“I’m going to give you my private cell phone,” she said. “I want you to call me anytime, about anything. Memory is a funny thing. It comes back at strange times. If you can think of something that can help us, I want you to call me.”

The wife nodded. “Okay. I will.”

“And keep wearing the necklace.” Erika got to her feet. “It really is perfect on you.”

With a groan, Mae woke up . . . and pushed herself a little higher on her pillows. As she winced, the male guard dog at her open door looked like he was ready to defend her against anything and everything, even if it was just the aches and pains she was suffering from.

The sight of Sahvage in the familiarity of her bedroom was a shock, but the fact that she was on her bed, in her home, at all?

She wasn’t sure she trusted this reality.

“Did the other males leave?” she asked in a rough voice.

“Yeah. About twenty minutes ago.” Sahvage cleared his throat. “Can I get you some Motrin or something? The doc said you were allowed a second dose if you’re still uncomfortable.”

The light from the sitting room made his huge figure seem menacing as a murderer. His scent, on the other hand, was a source of total comfort.

“I’ll be okay,” she said. “The doctor was really kind to me.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt—I mean, not seriously hurt. Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know.” Mae laughed in a short rush and looked down at herself. She had some vague memory of changing into fresh clothes. Had she had a quick shower? Maybe. Everything was so hazy. “Can you imagine . . . that I don’t know if I’m hungry?”

She blinked and saw those racks of designer clothes. So she tried to rub the images from her mind by going knuckle on her eyes.

“I called Tallah,” he said.

Dropping her hands, she exhaled in relief. “Thank God. Did you talk to her? She doesn’t know how to get into her voice mail.”

“Yup, I spoke with her. I just told her we were staying here tonight. Nothing else.”

“Was she okay with it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”

As Mae shivered, she pulled half of the duvet over her legs. “I can’t get warm.”

There was a pause. And then Sahvage said, “I can help with that.” When she glanced up at him, he put his hands out. “I’m not suggesting that we—”

With tears glossing her eyes, she extended her arms. She had no voice to reply to him.

As he straightened from his lean and came into the room, she couldn’t believe what she was doing—and it was the most natural thing in the world, too. She’d never had a male in this bed, in any bed, but there was no other answer except yes.