by Judi McCoy
After giving her boy a glare, Ellie shrugged. “Nothing specific. But for instance, after we met, it didn’t take her more that five minutes to make a negative comment about my build.”
“Oh, Lord. What is wrong with those people?”
“Those people?”
“Fashionistas. They pay more attention to the shape of the models wearing the clothes than they do the designs.”
“That’s why this NMD contest drew so much attention. The designers have to dress two sizes of models, one with a figure like yours, and one with a figure like mine.”
“You mean built like you, or Crystal Renn or Kate Dillon,” said Vivian. “It’s about time.”
“They were there. If I remember, Crystal has a French bulldog. He’s a very cute little guy.”
“I love it when you categorize everyone by the kind of dog they own,” Viv said with a laugh. “So this Lilah person, she didn’t like working with normal-sized women.”
“It was only me she commented on, but she made it pretty clear how she felt about anyone who wore a double-digit dress size.”
“And her opinion was so obnoxious that someone would kill her for it?”
“I vote yes on that one.”
“Give me a second.” Ellie walked to the cupboard, pulled out two of her friend Sara Studebaker’s carrot-and-apple biscuits, and gave one to Rudy and one to Mr. T. “You boys need a bedtime snack; then we’ll go out for our last walk of the night.” She raised an eyebrow. “You got it?”
Mr. T and Rudy started chewing. It was the yorkiepoo’s way of saying yes without giving an answer, and she returned to the table. “I really don’t know too much more, but I’m sure I’ll hear the details tomorrow. We have to be up early, especially if I have to take your guy for his walk.”
“So don’t take him. I’ll handle it. That’ll give you an extra fifteen minutes.” Viv tossed the container in the trash and set the spoon in the sink. “I’ll take my swag to my apartment, and get my sweater. You bring the boys. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
She collected her gifts and left, while Ellie started down the hall with Rudy and Twink at her heels. “Let’s get this show on the road,” her boy goaded. “We got a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?” She slipped a sweater over her head. “Why would we get involved?”
“Because we have to. It’s in our blood.”
She heaved a sigh. “Yours maybe, but not mine. I can only imagine what Sam is going to say when he hears, if he hasn’t already.”
“Detective Demento? How many times do I have to tell you, we don’t take orders from him.”
They returned to the hall and headed for the door. Once there, Ellie snapped leashes on both dogs and they walked down to the inside landing, where Viv was waiting. “Let’s make this quick,” she said, handing Mr. T off to his mistress. “I’m too tired to think straight.”
“I understand.” Viv led the way. “We’ll go to the corner and back; then we’re through.”
The cool night air gave Ellie renewed energy. “Besides those gorgeous baskets, I got another piece of good news,” she said while they watched Twink water a fire hydrant. “I managed to get you a ticket for the grand finale.”
Gasping, Viv spun around. “What? No! You didn’t!”
“I told you I would,” said Ellie, smiling. “I’d never let you down.”
“What day? What time? What should I wear?”
“It’s on Friday. The first catwalk run is scheduled for ten a.m., and you can stay all day, and wear whatever you want.”
Viv heaved a breath. “I forgot to ask. Who was in the crowd today? Did you get to meet anyone famous? Name names, please.”
“You’re asking me? A woman who doesn’t even read Vogue?”
“Vogue, Harper’s, W, they’re all the bible,” said Viv. They stopped at the corner, where the boys did their business; then Viv and Ellie scooped and deposited the bags in the trash can. “Did you meet Anna Wintour or Grace Coddington?”
“The names sound familiar. I did see Michael Kors and Christian Siriano on their way to somewhere.”
“Good God, but you’re difficult.” Viv huffed out a breath. “You met important people, big names in the fashion world, and all you decided to talk about was a ‘maybe’ murder.”
“Keep your voice down, please,” said Ellie, narrowing her eyes as they neared the porch. “I think I see . . .”
“Oh, brother.”
Sam sat on the cement balustrade of the apartment building, waiting for Ellie and Viv to return from their nightly dog outing. Word of the murder investigation at the fashion event Ellie was working had reached him around six, and he knew that, just like all the rest of the crimes she found herself in the middle of, she’d end up involved in this one, too.
She hadn’t pulled the trigger or thrown the dagger, of course, but she had put herself in a sticky situation. According to department gossip, she was the last ordinary citizen to have contact with the victim.
Now Vivian was laying into her so loudly it echoed up the street, berating her for caring more about the details of the crime than the big names at the event. He’d thought about giving Ellie his usual harangue on how she needed to answer Vaughn’s questions and stay out of the rest of it. After hearing Viv give her hell, well, maybe he just needed to slow things down for the night.
Reading the exhaustion in Ellie’s eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek when the women arrived at the stairway. “Hi, babe.” He pulled her near. “Viv, how are you doing?”
“I’m great, now that I know I have a ticket for the final day of Fashion Week,” she said, grinning. “I’ll leave you two alone. I think you have a lot to talk about.” She headed up the steps with her Jack Russell in tow. “Ellie, see you in the morning.”
He waited until the door closed before saying, “I heard you had quite a day. Do you want to talk about it?”
She leaned into his chest. “Maybe for a minute; then I need sleep. Is that okay?”
He took her hand and led her into the building. They climbed the stairs to the third floor. “I’ll put on my listening hat, just for you.”
Ellie smiled and his heart jumped. In the almost six months they’d lived together he’d done his damnedest to make her happy, and that was a big improvement for him. According to his ex, he’d been a lousy listener, a fact for which Carolanne never forgave him. It was getting easier and easier to sit back and listen to Ellie, to understand where she was coming from, and to enjoy her positive, almost rosy, outlook on life.
It had taken five murders for him to realize his girl was right. She never looked for trouble—trouble just seemed to find her. And it was his job to keep her safe and happy while things took place around her, which included allowing her to help those she considered her friends.
They got to their apartment and he pulled out his key, but Ellie simply opened the door. “Sorry. I forgot to lock it, but Viv and I were only going to be out for a couple of minutes.”
He held back his usual “This is New York. Lock the effing door” comment. “And Rudy would protect you if a bad guy slipped inside?”
She knelt to undo Rudy’s leash. “I think he’s finally getting the message, little man. What do you think?”
Sam waited while she held a short conversation with her dog. When the mutt glanced up at him and cocked its head, he wanted to groan. No matter how many times he saw the hound, he still couldn’t get over the almost human expression on its face.
When they got to the bedroom he tugged off his clothes while Ellie brought Rudy and his pillow to the spare room and told him good night. By the time she finished whatever females did to get ready for bed, he was under the covers waiting for her.
She climbed in and he pulled her close, spooning himself against her back. “You don’t have to talk about it tonight. I’ll get up with you in the morning. You can give me the details over coffee.” He circled her waist with his arm. “Unless you need to get something
off your chest now.”
She blew out a breath. “Just that I had nothing to do with it. Even trying to save Lilah’s life was an automatic reaction. I’ve been thinking: How could a woman who complained about her allergy as much as Lilah did carry an empty EpiPen?”
“I know Vaughn. I’m sure he’s already figured that out.”
“So how did she come in contact with peanuts?”
“My guess is Vaughn is asking himself that same question. And the ME will probably come up with the answer.”
She wriggled her bottom against his growing erection. “So I should keep my nose clean and let the cops do their job?”
“You should,” he agreed, nuzzling the back of her ear.
“Uh-oh. It feels like I’m going to owe you a special wake-up in the morning,” she said with a smile in her voice.
“That’ll be the perfect way to start my day.”
She snuggled closer and he felt her muscles relax and her tension ease. That’s when he decided there was no reason to begin his usual “no snooping—mind your own business” speech. Ellie was just too tired.
A minute later, just as he was dozing off, he heard her say, “Thanks, Sam, for not lecturing. I appreciate it.”
Chapter 3
First thing the next morning, after sharing breakfast and the exact details of Lilah Perry’s death with Sam, Ellie and Rudy hopped out of the cab when it stopped in front of the Fashion Center. The same security guard as yesterday waved them through, and she prepared for whatever might be the attitude of those inside.
She hoped the gofers, assistants, and staging folks would be more calm and respectful than the day before, when it had taken her only a few hours in their presence to realize that the people in this industry were manic. It stood to reason the craziness that accompanied said profession would be softened by the tragedy.
But she moaned internally when she arrived in the work area of the show. So much for hoping people would be pondering the tragedy, mourning for Lilah, or worrying if any of them would be a victim as well. This group had lost one of its own under shocking circumstances, yet people raced the floor pushing clothing racks, carrying mounds of shoe boxes, and setting up makeup and hairstyling stations as if nothing had happened.
She just missed getting whacked by a rolling rack, darted out of the way of a woman toting an armful of fabric, and blew out a breath when three girls, carrying trays of coffee in each hand, jostled past her. Nothing was toned down or softened. The place was downright dangerous, and the pace was still frantic.
“Do you think these guys know they’re hangin’ tight with a murderer?” Rudy asked as he scuttled closer to her ankle.
“Detective Vaughn wasn’t exactly secretive when his team commandeered everyone and asked questions. If Marcus David heard rumors, I’m sure everybody else did, too. And I’m positive word of Lilah’s death made the newspapers. Although I was in such a rush this morning I forgot to check.”
She jumped to the side and pulled Rudy with her to avoid another garment rack collision. “Excuse me,” she muttered when the person passed, head down and pushing determinedly, without one word of warning.
“These humans need better manners.”
Ellie tugged her boy to an empty makeup station and squatted. “We’ll talk about good manners some other time. For now, just stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”
Regrouping, they walked by a girl sitting patiently while a striking man, his hair gelled in a bright red Mohawk, transformed her into a dark and dramatic beauty. Just past that, two pencil-thin girls of no more than sixteen stood on round podiums in nothing but silk bikini bottoms while designers draped them in fabric. Vivian had told her about young girls, children really, who were making it big in the fashion industry, and these scenes supported Viv’s view.
“I thought humans were supposed to wear clothes in public,” Rudy said, his tone a snigger.
Ellie cleared her throat. “We are, but this is the fashion world. The way I understand it, the body is nothing more than a hanger with a heartbeat, made to show off designer creations. Since they think they’re behind the scenes right now, it’s private to them. Public is when they’re out on the catwalk.”
“Those kids should be runnin’ on a soccer field or taking piano lessons, not getting dressed up to look like hookers.”
“I wouldn’t say hookers. They’re more like kids playing dress-up with their mom’s clothes and cosmetics.”
She kept walking as she pondered Rudy’s observations.
So much of what she’d seen backstage was like make-believe. Most average women couldn’t afford what these high-end hairstylists and makeup artists charged, ditto what the fashion houses were selling, which was why she appreciated the concept of Nola Morgan Design’s contest. The designers in the competition were creating clothes for real women, and real women were the ones who spent most of the money and did most of the buying.
Deciding she’d never understand the minds of those who ran this industry, she was relieved to find their station just as she’d predicted. The table was filled with the same setup as the day before, and the puppy pen already held a Yorkie and both mini Schnauzers.
She stored her tote under the table and gave her boy a nod. “How about if I put your travel mat in the pen and you hang with the other dogs? Maybe you can find out how Lilah’s baby is doing. No matter how nasty she was to people, Lilah was his mom and he lost her, so I’m sure he’s sad.”
Rudy curled up on his mat and eyed the other canines. “No problemo. I can keep watch on them and the table from here.”
A minute later, jumping like a crazed grasshopper, Kitty King ran over. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” She threaded her fingers through her spiky blond hair. “Have you heard?”
“Heard?” Ellie grabbed her assistant’s shaking hands and pulled her to a chair. “Is this about Lilah?”
“What?” Kitty shook her head. “Lilah? No.” She heaved a sigh. “Well, sort of. I still can’t believe it.”
Had someone confessed to emptying Lilah’s EpiPen? Had the cops figured out how she came in contact with peanuts? “Sit and relax for a second. If it doesn’t concern Lilah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kitty breathed slowly, in and out, in and out. Then she grinned. “The NMD officials have moved me into Lilah’s place in the competition.”
In the design contest? Ellie knew the young woman wanted to be a designer, but she had no idea that Kitty had even entered the competition. Or was she taking Lilah’s place with the help of her brother, Jeffery? “Really? I mean, you didn’t say a word about entering. How did it happen?”
“I got a phone call last night,” Kitty said, inhaling. “I did enter, but no one ever mentioned how the losing designers stacked up, so this was the first I realized I must have been number five.” She raised her palms to her temples. “I’m a wreck. I have a ton of stuff to do. I spent all of last night going over my designs, trying to choose the ones that were best, but easiest to do on such short notice.” She shrugged. “I guess that old saying ‘what goes around comes around’ is really true.”
“Sorry. I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“I never found the time to tell you.” Kitty ducked her head and lowered her voice. “Lilah stole my designs and used them to win a spot in the competition.”
Ellie blinked her surprise. “She copied your work?”
“Worse than copied.” Kitty nodded a hello to the model dropping off her tiny Yorkie, and waited until she left before continuing. “She actually found the drawings of what I planned to submit in my brother’s home office.”
“Your brother’s home office? What was Lilah doing at his place?”
“He threw a party to celebrate his promotion and invited NMD people along with friends. Lilah hadn’t been invited, but she showed up as someone’s date, and Jeff didn’t want to make a scene so he ignored her most of the night. I’d brought a folder holding the designs I planned to submit and left
it sitting on his desk. After the party, while he and I were cleaning up, we realized it was gone. We figured somebody had taken it, so I pulled out my second choices, worked them over, and sent them in instead.”
Kitty took another deep breath. “They weren’t as good as my first choice ones, of course, but the next business day was the deadline, so I had to submit them.”
“When did you find out it was Lilah who took them?” Ellie had a sinking feeling the episode would come back to haunt her assistant, but she wouldn’t say anything until she heard the whole story. “Did you confront her?”
Slumping in her chair, Kitty sighed. “I didn’t, but Jeff was on the recommendation committee and he knew she was the thief the minute he saw Lilah’s entry. Even so, he couldn’t accuse her until he talked to her.” She hugged her arms around her chest. “According to him, it got ugly.”
“Ugly how?”
“He asked Lilah and she denied it. They argued and a few people overheard the fight. Word went round that he only accused Lilah because he was trying to get me in. When he heard that, he excused himself from the committee. Since there was no real proof that Lilah stole my work, she won a spot.”
“I see.” Ellie smiled a hello to the model dropping off her white Chihuahua and adding her tote to the growing pile under the table. “Then I guess you’re happy Lilah is gone.”
“I’m happy she’s out and I’m in, but I never wanted her dead,” said Kitty, raising her button nose in the air. “I have no idea how it happened, but I’m glad it did . . . sort of. You know what I mean.” She heaved another sigh and shot to her feet. “I have to get moving. My models will be here any minute, and I have to start creating.”
Kitty raced off and Ellie slumped in her chair. So that’s what the girl had meant yesterday, when she mentioned design theft and backbiting. But it had to be a coincidence that Lilah ended up dead. Kitty didn’t strike her as the type to commit murder. Then again, according to Sam, murderers had no particular type. Anyone could kill if they were desperate enough or pushed in the wrong direction.