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ludicrous when you put it that way.”
    “Then it seems to me you’ve created quite a predicament for yourselves. Tell me one thing: have you interviewed any other candidates besides me and the young woman you spoke to yesterday?”
    Fleming straightened as though someone had shoved a ramrod down the back of his suit coat. His face brightened. “So she’s the one who told you about the position.”
    “In a manner of speaking.” Ellie rose and pulled her shoulders back into her usual upright posture. With a theatrical flourish, she took off her spectacles and removed the wax plumpers she’d placed between her cheeks and her gums. Speaking in her normal tone, she said, “Gentlemen, that young woman and I are one and the same.”
    Fleming and Gates froze in place, like actors in a tableau.
    “Good heavens!” Fleming raised a pair of pince-nez to his eyes and peered at her closely.
    Gates reached out as if to touch Ellie’s padded waist, then snatched his arm back against his side. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the knot in his narrow bow tie. “I’ve been in the field a good many years, but I never would have believed this if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
    Fleming tugged at Gates’s sleeve, and the two men edged toward the far end of the office, where they began conversing in hushed tones.
    Gates stared up at Fleming. “You aren’t seriously recommending we hire her?”
    “Think about it. If she can fool us . . .”
    “Even so, she’s untrained, untested. Using her could prove to be a complete disaster.”
    “Or a stroke of genius.” Fleming looked at Ellie over Gates’s shoulder. “After seeing that transformation, I’m inclined to believe the latter.”
    “Hoodwinking us for a matter of minutes is a far cry from carrying out a long-term masquerade.”
    “Granted, but remember, we wouldn’t be sending her out there on her own.”
    Gates responded with a grunt.
    Fleming sighed, and they moved back toward the desk, where Ellie stood, barely able to breathe.
    Fleming gestured toward her chair. “Please sit down, Mrs. . . . Miss . . . What is your name, anyway?”
    Ellie unlocked her knees and lowered herself onto the padded seat as quickly as her cloth-wrapped limbs would permit. “My name is Elizabeth Moore, as I told you yesterday.” She allowed a smile to play across her lips.
    A deep furrow ran from between Gates’s eyebrows to his hairline. “Young woman, this isn’t a game.”
    “No, it isn’t.” Ellie snapped back to attention, chiding herself for her lapse when her goal hadn’t yet been reached. “You need the help, and I need the work. So what is your answer, gentlemen?”
    Gates eyed her steadily. “Are you a believer, Miss Moore?”
    The question caught Ellie off guard. “A believer in . . . ?”
    “Are you a follower of Christ?”
    Ellie’s mind whirled. What reason did he have for asking such a question? She had no way of knowing, but judging from his searching gaze, getting the job—or not—might hinge on her response. Lifting her chin, she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Of course.”
    It wasn’t a lie—not really. She had believed . . . at one time. And she did own a Bible, handed down from her grandmother. She’d even read some of the underlined verses. Surely that counted for something.
    Ellie’s heart sank when she saw a flicker of concern darken Gates’s face.
    “In that case, you need to be aware that the job of an undercover operative, by its very nature, involves deception. As a believer, you may find that hard to live with.”
    “That won’t be a problem.” The glib reply brought a sharp glance from Gates, so Ellie hastened to add, “I mean, I’ll approach it strictly as playing a role. Lavinia Stewart will be the one doing the deceiving, not I.”
    Gates turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. “If you want my opinion, it’s a bad idea. We’re crazy if we go ahead with this.”
    Fleming nodded slowly. “I