"Celia!" Tamara said sharply. "What does she have to do with this?"

"Did you actually think you could pull such an obvious scam on Aunt Margaret without her stepdaughter tumbling to it?" he asked mockingly.

"Scam?" Tamara repeated her violet eyes huge in her suddenly pale face. If Celia was involved in this crazy misunderstanding, then it foreboded serious trouble.

"Scam, bunko, con game. Whatever you care to call it, it's still highly illegal, Miss Ledford. I don't know how much your aunt has bilked Aunt Margaret out of in the last year on these phony psychic readings, but I want it returned double quick, do you understand?"

Tamara's chin lifted disdainfully. "I gather you're Margaret Bettencourt's nephew, Mr. Brody?" He nodded curtly, and she continued with acid sweetness. "How unfortunate for her. Do you always jump to conclusions without verifying the facts? For your information, my aunt never accepts money for her readings. When she's asked for help, she gives it without charge."

He nodded grimly. "I said she was clever, but not quite clever enough. She may not accept cash, but I think the police would agree that a pretty trinket would be valuable enough to constitute grand larceny." He gestured to a beautifully crafted Easter egg on the mantel. "I understand from Miss Bettencourt that my aunt gave Elizabeth Ledford this art object two months ago. Do you deny it?"

"Of course I don't deny it," Tamara said hotly. "Mrs. Bettencourt was very grateful to Aunt Elizabeth for her advice regarding some stock investments. She insisted on giving my aunt at least a token gift. It's quite lovely, but not at all valuable."

"Some token," he said, his lips twisting cynically. "Are you telling me you don't know that's a Faberge egg, and it's worth a small fortune?"

"A Faberge-" Tamara gasped, stunned. She shook her head dazedly. "You've got to be mistaken. Why would she give Aunt Elizabeth something so valuable?"