Secret Star by Nora Roberts

enough initially.” He glanced down at the photo again, thought of the man he’d seen her kiss. “This looks like her type.”
    M.J.’s hand dropped, her eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”
    â€œJust that.” Seth tucked the photo away. “If one’s going by type, this one doesn’t appear, on the surface, too far a step from the one she was cozy with at the service.”
    â€œCozy with?” The narrowed eyes went hot, angry green flares. “Grace wasn’t cozy with anyone.”
    â€œAbout six-one, a hundred and seventy, blond hair, blue eyes, five-thousand-dollar Italian suit, lots of teeth.”
    It only took her a moment. At any other time, she would have laughed. But the cool disdain on Seth’s face had her snarling. “You stupid son of a bitch, that was her cousin Julian, and he was hitting her up for money, just like he always does.”
    Seth frowned, backtracked, played the scenethrough his mind again. “Her cousin…and that would be the victim’s…?”
    â€œStepbrother. Melissa’s stepbrother—her father’s son from a previous.”
    â€œAnd the deceased’s stepbrother was asking Grace for money at his stepsister’s memorial?”
    This time she appreciated the coating of disgust over his words. “Yeah. He’s slime—why should the ambience stop him from shaking her down? Most of them squeeze her for a few bucks now and then.” She rose, geared up. “And you’ve got a hell of a nerve coming in here with your attitude and your superior morals, ace. She wrote that pansy-faced jerk a check for a few thousand to get him off her back, just like she used to pass bucks to Melissa, and some of the others.”
    â€œI was under the impression the Fontaines were wealthy.”
    â€œWealth’s relative—especially if you live the high life and your allowance from your trust fund is overdrawn, or if you’ve played too deep in Monte Carlo. And Grace has more of the green stuff than most of them, because her parents didn’t blow the bucks. That just burns the relatives,” she muttered. “Who do you think paid for that wake last night? It wasn’t the dearly departed’s mama or papa. Grace’s witch of an aunt put the arm on her, then put the blame on her. And she took it, becauseshe thinks it’s easier to take it and go her own way. You don’t know anything about her.”
    He thought he did, but the details he was collecting bit by bit weren’t adding up very neatly. “I know that she’s not to blame for what happened to her cousin.”
    â€œYeah, try telling her that. I know that when we realized she’d left and we got back to Cade’s, she was in her room crying, and there was nothing any of us could do to help her. And all because those bastards she has the misfortune to be related to go out of their way to make her feel rotten.”
    Not just her relatives, he thought with a quick twinge of guilt. He’d had a part in that.
    â€œIt seems she’s more fortunate in her friends than in her family.”
    â€œThat’s because we’re not interested in her money, or her name. Because we don’t judge her. We just love her. Now, if that’s all, I’ve got work to do.”
    â€œI need to speak with Ms. Fontaine.” Seth’s voice was as stiff as M.J.’s had been passionate. “Would you know where I might find her?”
    Her lips curled. She hesitated a moment, knowing Grace wouldn’t appreciate the information being passed along. But the urge to see the cop’s preconceptions slapped down was just too tempting. “Sure. Try Saint Agnes’s Hospital. Pediatricsor maternity.” Her phone rang, so she snatched it up. “You’ll find her,” she said. “Yeah, O’Leary,” she barked into the phone, and turned her back on Seth.
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    He assumed she was visiting the