Page 65 of Devil's Riches

I nodded and stepped closer. Nate was right. The man was definitely wearing a tie pin that matched the Aquarius symbol. “We met at the Christmas gala last year, remember?” I said. “You were talking to my mother for half the night. She introduced us.”

The man rubbed the back of his neck. “Which Christmas gala?” he asked.

“The one at the Plaza in Avalon City.”

“I’m not sure I went to that one,” he said, looking perplexed.

“Oh. Maybe it was another event. But I’m sure we met. I always remember people’s eyes. Never their names, though,” I said with a tinkling laugh, laying on the ‘airheaded young woman’ act as thickly as possible. “Anyway, I’m Letitia. Letitia Hawthorne,” I added, giving him my go-to fake name.

I extended my hand, and the man smiled and shook it. “Henry Redstone,” he said.

“That’s right! Henry! I remember now.”

He nodded slowly. “You know, come to think of it, you do look quite familiar,” he said. “Perhaps we met at last year’s benefit for the Historical Society. I think that was held at the Plaza as well.”

“That must be it, then,” I said, casually waving a hand. “All I really remember is you talking to my mother all night. You were telling her about something that happened to you when you were overseas. Somewhere in Africa, I think. Or maybe it was Asia.”

Henry grinned and nodded. “I must’ve told her about my safari in South Africa. Lots of interesting stories there.”

I smiled and politely nodded along as he launched into a tale about a pride of lions escaping from a nature park and blocking off a road.

It was amazing what you could convince people of with a little bit of suggestion. I’d never met this man in my life, and he’d certainly never spoken with my mother, but now that I’d planted a few seeds in his mind, he was absolutely sure that he’d met us and told us all about his travels.

I let him chatter for a while, and then I looked over his shoulder and grimaced. “Oh no. My date is starting to look a little murderous, so I should probably get back to our table,” I said. I held out a hand. “It was nice to see you again, Henry.”

“You too. Hopefully I’ll see you and your mother at the next event,” Henry replied, shaking my hand. “I actually remember her now. Lovely woman.”

I gave him one last winning smile. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”

I headed back to the table and sank into the comfortable chair with a sly smile. “Redstone,” I whispered, putting my elbows on the table and leaning forward.

Nate added it to the list. “Good job. Just five more now.”

We finished our meals quickly, anxious to look around the rest of the Mayfair. Then we headed to the next restaurant and wandered around slowly, acting like we were searching for a friend while we surreptitiously checked out the patrons.

There were plenty of people wearing signet rings, tie pins, lapel pins, cufflinks, and custom pendants on necklaces, but none of them matched any of the remaining star signs on our list. I wasn’t discouraged, though. It was amazing that we’d already managed to identify seven families without any help from Greg or Annalise.

The next restaurant was the same as the second. No dice. The casino was just as bad. It was packed with well-dressed people, all of them swarming around the game tables and slot machines, but none of them matched what we were looking for.

“Let’s go to the jazz bar,” Nate suggested. “I think a place like that would attract a few older members.”

We headed to the nearest elevator and rode it to the second floor. The jazz bar was on the southern end, well away from the noise of the bars on the northern side.

It was a large space with low lighting and round tables with wingback chairs. Musicians improvised on the stage in a swinging rhythm, surrounded by a smoky haze from a dry ice machine.

When a saxophone started playing, I felt a familiar pang of grief in my stomach. My father had always loved sax music, so I thought of him whenever I heard it.

Nate took my hand and led me over to a table. “See anything?” he asked in a low voice.

I cast my eyes around the room. It was too dim to make out many details on most of the patrons, but a gleaming gold brooch on one white-haired woman stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Over there,” I whispered. “There’s a woman sitting with two men. Her brooch looks a lot like the Aries symbol.”

Nate followed the direction of my gaze, and his brows shot up. “I know her,” he said. “She’s on one of the philanthropic committees that my mother is on.”

“What’s her name?”

“Hazel Goulding.”

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