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hours.”
    “And you think he might have been a member of an outlaw motorcycle gang?”
    Dowton shrugged, impatience in his eyes. “I don’t know. You’re the detective. But that’s my guess. Who has the most to gain if these reforms disappear? No one has been more vocal about them than I have. What I do know is that last night I received a threatening phone call and the very next day, my daughter’s attacked and her friend disappears.”
    “Why would they take Olivia?”
    The Attorney General briefly closed his eyes and drew in another breath. “As I said, I think they made a mistake. The girls look alike.” He spoke slowly, enunciating every word, as if he were talking to a simpleton.
    Lane’s anger stirred at the AG’s tone, even though he understood the man’s frustration. He thought back to the last time he’d seen Olivia. It hadn’t been that long ago; the girls definitely shared a number of similarities. The photo of Brittany was dated, but he assumed her fair coloring and cloud of blond hair hadn’t changed. To someone unfamiliar with either of the girls, it could have been a simple mistake to make.
    “I’d like to speak with Brittany now, if you don’t mind.”
    “Of course. I’ve already asked Mrs Harrow to let the girls know you’re here. It might be best if we go upstairs. I don’t think Britt’s up to coming down.”
    “That’s fine.”
    The Attorney General pushed away from his desk and Lane did the same. He followed Dowton through his office and into the airy living room. An ornate marble staircase stood off to the left. Their footsteps were muffled by a rich, gold-and-navy carpet stair runner. More valuable art works lined the wall. Lane wondered again about the Attorney General’s prosperity.
    “You have great taste in art, David.”
    “Thank you. Most of them I inherited from my father. He was one of the founding fathers of Sydney Legal. He was the reason I went into law. Among other things, he prided himself on having an eye for art. He was a collector.”
    Lane relaxed. Dowton came from old money. That explained the opulence. It wasn’t at all what he’d been thinking.
    Turning right at the landing, the Attorney General came to a stop outside the second door along and tapped his knuckles on the closed panel. It was opened almost immediately.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Saturday, January, 27, 12:20 p.m.

    Lane gasped. A strikingly beautiful woman who barely came up to his chest stared back at him. Although she bore a close resemblance to the photo he’d seen on her father’s desk, Zara Dowton had done some growing up since her high school graduation.
    She wore a knee length dress made out of some kind of floaty floral fabric. It was cinched in at the waist with a matching belt and caressed her slender curves. A pale gray silk scarf embroidered with fine silver thread circled her neck. The form-fitting bodice emphasized the generous swell of her breasts, but it was her eyes that held him arrested.
    So dark they were almost black, their perfect almond shape widened at the sight of him and flared with an indefinable emotion. Lane stood rooted to the spot, unable to drag his gaze away. The Attorney General broke the spell when he cleared his throat and addressed her.
    “Zara, this is Detective Black. He’s here to speak with Brittany.”
    The woman angled her head in Lane’s direction and offered him the slightest nod before she returned her attention to her father.
    “She’s still in shock, Dad. I don’t know how much she’ll be able to help you.” The last was directed toward Lane. He finally found his voice.
    “I won’t be long, but I’m sure you understand how imperative it is we find out what she remembers.”
    Zara nodded and turned away. Lane followed her into the room. The scent of orange blossom and jasmine trailed in her wake. It smelled as exotic as the woman who wore it. He filled his nostrils and then silently berated himself, hoping it wouldn’t set off another bout