"Her." Her grip tightened on my arm before she could stop it. Then she caught the actual question and her shoulders softened again. "Oh. Yes. Funny, isn't it. We always smelled alike, even as kids."
"How close, exactly. If she'd come in for a study, we'd pay generously."
"No."
It snapped out of her. Then her face smoothed too quickly. "She has a temper. Father and I couldn't even get her to come home. She'd never sit through tests for strangers. I'm sorry."
"Of course." I gave her my best glass smile. "Let me take you home. The pieces you liked will be delivered this evening."
Her face fell, then rebuilt itself on the second sentence.
Thirty minutes later, the Maybach idled at her townhouse. Before her heel even cleared her own threshold, I tapped the driver and we pulled away.
I di
