Chapter 47

A BLOND WOMAN drifted from one piece of old furniture to another, her eyes shielded by a pair of dark sunglasses. She was playing detective and feeling slightly ridiculous, to tell the truth. But she needed to watch Nora Sinclair.

Had this been anywhere but New York, she would’ve stood out. But this was the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Here, she blended in. Simply another browsing customer at Hargrove & Sons.

The blonde stopped at an oak hallstand with shiny brass hooks and pretended to look at the price. Her eyes and ears remained fixed on Nora.

Or was it Olivia Sinclair?

She didn’t know what to make of the exchange with the balding guy. Anyone who answers to two names is probably guilty of something.

She continued to watch Nora—now joined by an older man. Just to be careful, she wandered away from them a couple of times. Still, she managed to overhear some of the conversation.

The older man was a client. Accordingly, Nora was actually an interior decorator. Her comments and suggestions, the jargon—she definitely knew how to talk the talk.

Nora’s profession was never really in doubt, though. It was the rest of her life that was in question. Her two lives, her secrets. But there was no proof of anything yet. Which was why the blond woman had decided to have a look-see for herself.

“Excuse me, do you need any help? May I be of assistance in any way?”

The blonde turned to see an elderly sales clerk hovering close behind. He was wearing a bow tie, a tweed jacket, wire-rimmed eyeglasses that looked as old as he was.

“No, thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m just looking. But I don’t see anything I like.”

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