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happiness again.
    Kait swallowed, having to turn away from the photos of her sister and her husband when they had been so enamored of one another. She glanced briefly at a half a dozen photos of Lana astride at horse shows.
    They brought back so many memories. Lana was a natural athlete, and a very competitive one. While they had both worked at a local stable in return for riding lessons, Lana had started winning top ribbons at the local shows from her very first time out when they were seven and in second grade. Kait had hated showing—she’d only done so once or twice and found the pressure of being the center of attention far too much. When their mother had passed away they had been thirteen, and their father had bought them both large ponies, and Kait now knew he had been hoping to distract them from their loss. Lana had continued to show, successfully; Kait had ridden for pleasure. Kait still rode on the weekends in Central Park or sometimes in Westchester, but she hadn’t had a clue that Lana had become so deeply involved in the horse world. That fact only added to the argument that Lana was eminently suited to be Trev Coleman’s wife.
    Kait brushed her eyes. There was no denying the sadness in her heart now, but she was aware too of the emotion being much more complicated than it had any right to be, and she refused to analyze it or herself.
    Kait turned her back to her sister’s photos and lifted the phone, her intention to try to reach her sister. She quickly dialed her own number, and as she waited for Lana to pick up, it crossed her mind that it might not be fair to tell Lana that Trev wanted a divorce, not when she was incapable of doing anything about it, not when she would be back in two days. Then she thought about how unfair it was for her to have been put in this position. She desperately needed Lana’s advice.
    But Lana did not pick up. Instead, Kait’s voice mail came on.
    As Kait hadn’t been given the opportunity to give her sister her PIN code for retrieving voice mail, she hung up with a terrible sinking sensation. She might not reach Lana at all; she might not be able to speak with her until she actually returned home to Fox Hollow in two days. And that meant that she would have to manage the divorce and Trev Coleman all alone.
    She shuddered.
    Kait hated the idea of facing Trev Coleman before she had a chance to speak with her sister; nevertheless, she had better think through the best way to deal with the current situation. Could she somehow help Lana salvage her marriage? That seemed to be the only possible course of action.
    She took one last look around the study, but had no excuse now to be lingering there. And, frankly, something about Trev Coleman had unnerved her—she had no wish to be caught in his office, or to be accused of prying or anything else. She walked back into the hall. Her purse was gone.
    She stared at the empty windowsill. She had set the Gucci bag down there—hadn’t she?
    Kait felt certain that she had. Panic rose. Kait tried to recall if there was anything incriminating in her bag—she simply did not think so, but the panic did not abate. Kait hurried into the living room, but her bag was not in sight.
    She could not have misplaced it. But she was alone in the house. Wasn’t she? Elizabeth had left to fetch Marni, and she had also seen Trevor driving off.
    But Max Zara was upstairs
. Kait realized now that she hadn’t seen him come down, and if he had, it had been by a back stairs or when she was engrossed in the study. He was odd and suspicious to begin with. He seemed to really dislike her sister. He seemed to have an ax to grind. But why the hell would he lift her bag?
    Kait glanced at the stairs, calling, “Max?” There was no answer. She found her way to the kitchen easily enough—beyond the living room was the dining room and through that the kitchen. She ignored the spacious room with its sunny breakfast area and stainless-steel refrigerators, hearing a