by Judi McCoy
When she opened the drawer to her left she found a mass of makeup in liquid and powder forms, and everything in between. The right drawer was just as crowded with a variety of beauty products: two dozen tubes of lipstick, a couple of brands of eyeliner, shadows in every shade imaginable, several wands of mascara, and enough hair brushes to paint the apartment.
Squatting, she opened the cupboard below and took stock of the toilet paper, tissues, blow dryers, curling irons, and crimpers. Hoping to find an EpiPen, she—
“Hey, look what I got.”
Jumping in place, Ellie whacked her head on the doorframe. “Yee-ouch!” She gave Rudy a frown. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the kitchen and talk to the dogs.”
Rudy dropped a chunk of newspaper on the tile floor. “Yeah, but they scattered, so what was I supposed to do?” He shrugged doggie shoulders. “Besides, I found something you should see.” He picked up the paper and waved it at her. “Take a gander at dis,” he said through clenched teeth.
Ellie grabbed the folded sheets and stood.
“Now who are you talking to?” asked Patti, walking to the bathroom door.
“Um, myself,” Ellie lied, startled. “Whenever I try to get a handle on what I’m looking for, I make a mental list and go over it out loud.”
“Sure you do,” answered Patti, still wearing a silly grin. “So what’s that in your hand?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Rudy found it and brought it over.”
“Sure. Blame me for everything, even if it’s something important.”
“Are you going to keep it a secret?” Patti asked. “Or will you let me in on whatever that is?”
“I don’t know what it is yet. Now, why are you here?” said Ellie, hoping to get her off topic. “I thought you were feeding Kiki and settling her in for the night.”
“I’m finished, and she’s eaten. I took the liberty of checking the pantry for peanuts and oil while I was getting her dry food out, but all I found was olive oil. Maybe there’s a copy of Lilah’s perfume pad in here, or an EpiPen.”
“Uh, not that I could see.” She tucked the paper under her arm. Then she looked at Rudy. “I have to find out where he got this from and put it back or Dominique will know we snooped.”
“I think it was her office. The room had a desk and a computer, and lots of bookshelves.”
“I passed by an office on the way here. It would make sense it came from there,” Patti unknowingly added.
They walked up the hall, and Ellie thought aloud. “I’m not sure we should be doing this. We should probably be on our way once I put this back.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with looking around while we’re here,” Patti assured her. “We’ll scan the office and put whatever it is Rudy found in a logical place in the room.”
They stopped at the room in question. “Okay, we’re here,” said Ellie. They crossed the threshold. “You check the carpet to make sure none of the dogs had an accident in here while I take a better look at this paper.”
“Fine, give me the dirty work,” said Patti, her voice upbeat. “But you have to let me in on whatever you have in your hand.”
Ellie knew they had to inspect the paper, because Rudy said it was important, so she sat in the desk chair, and opened the sheet. A moment later she gasped.
Chapter 11
“What? What is it?” asked Patti, rushing to the desk.
Ellie straightened the sheets on the desk blotter. “Oh, boy. This isn’t good.”
“Told ya it looked interesting,” said Rudy, climbing up her leg.
She stared at the publicity photo of Lilah situated next to her obituary in the New York Post. Adorned with a mustache, beard, and devil horns, along with a crude replica of a smoking gun pointed at Lilah’s head, it showcased Dominique’s innermost feelings about the designer. Some might consider it amusing, but not if the person doing the artwork was known to have had a personal disagreement with the deceased.
“If nothing else, it’s certainly proof that Dominique didn’t care much for Lilah, and wouldn’t have minded if she were dead,” said Patti.
It was obvious that Dominique had also added her own commentary, writing “liar,” “ha-ha,” and several f-you remarks next to certain passages.
Rudy climbed into her lap. A moment later, he said, “But why the gun? Lilah wasn’t shot. She was allergized, or whatever you call bein’ killed by somethin’ she was allergic to.”
“You think she was allergized?” Ellie repeated, as if Patti weren’t there.
“That’s an odd way of explaining how Lilah died,” the model answered. “Though I must admit, the word sort of makes sense.”
“You bet it does,” Rudy agreed, jumping to the floor.
Ellie sighed. She was sunk. There was no way they could stop now. She opened a bottom drawer. “Maybe she squirreled something away in here.”
“Squirrel? There’s a squirrel in there?” Rudy pawed at the desk. “Let me at ’im. I’ll get that little rodent and toss him out on his fuzzy—”
“Rudy, stop. He hears the word ‘squirrel’ and he goes nuts,” she told Patti.
“Doesn’t it just figure. Another human saying that doesn’t make sense.” He stuck his nose in the drawer. “And what else do you think is in there?”
Patti had already inspected and closed the drawers on the opposite side. “I guess that’s how Dominique took out her anger on Lilah,” she said, gazing at Ellie. “Can something like this be used as evidence?”
Folding the paper, Ellie matched the creases. “Maybe, but how do you suggest I explain the way we got hold of this to the cops?”
“Just tell them your dog found it. Cheech is always pulling stuff out from under the sofa or one of the trash cans. He’s little, but he knows how to knock the darned things over like a pro. Chong, too. That sounds simple enough to me. Then they can get a search warrant or—”
“Sorry to tell you this, but according to Sam, an officer of the court needs to have a solid reason for obtaining a search warrant.” Ellie ran fingers through her hair. “I’d first have to confess to Detective Vaughn that I found this in Dominique’s home while I was here to deliver Kiki. Do you actually believe he’d buy the story of Rudy finding this? It’s as bad as the dog ate my homework.”
Patti hung her head. “Oh.”
“Oh is right,” she answered, the guilt causing her stomach to turn. If Sam found out . . . “But now that it’s done, it can’t be undone, so we just have to put it behind us and follow our plan of delivering the dogs. We won’t snoop, but if something’s out in plan sight it could give us an important clue. We have the keys and the models’ permission to go into their apartments.”
“But wouldn’t a drawing like that show contempt or—or— something?” Patti continued her campaign.
“Contempt of Lilah? Sure, but a dozen other people hated her, too. Dominique just happened to put her dislike on paper and turn Lilah into a female version of Satan.”
“Well, it has to point to something more devious.” The supermodel tsked. “Finding stuff like this always seems to lead to an arrest on CSI or one of those television police dramas.”
“That’s the reason Sam hates those shows. He says they get things all wrong and it hurts the entire department.” She recalled the evening she’d asked him to watch an episode of one of the most popular dramas on TV. “I tried to get him to take a look at Castle because the hero is a writer and the story goes into character interaction, not the crime, and he took all the fun out of it. Kept pointing out every place where the female detective’s language was phony, and how they would never allow Castle to do the things he did in each episode.”
“You really need to get Sam to lighten up,” Patti said. Then she heaved a sigh. “So where are you going to put that newspaper? If Rudy brought it to you, you can’t know where he found it. But he is your dog, and the way you talk to him all the time, I say you can just ask him to show you.”
Rudy gave a full body shake, then sidled over to the trash basket next to the desk and moved it with his nose.
Ellie glanced at Patti. “I think that might be his answer, don’t you?”
Rudy snorted out a sneeze. “This is draggin’ on waa-aay too long. I found the newspaper here. Just stick it back inside so we can go.”
Making a decision, Ellie pulled out her notebook.
“What are you doing?”
She flipped to Dominique’s page. “Taking notes on our discovery, in case something else falls into place that we can attribute to Dominique.” She stuffed the notebook back in her tote, stood, and pushed in the desk chair. Then she slid the evidence into the trash can.
Hoisting her tote bag over her shoulder, Ellie headed into the hall with Patti beside her. In the kitchen, they found the dogs relaxing on various spots on the tile floor. “Are you sure you left things the way you found them?” she asked Patti.
“I did.” She bent to retrieve more leashes. “I still say whoever killed Lilah was devious. I didn’t care much for her, but geez, what a way to die.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” Smiling at Kiki, she gave her a pat on the head. “You’re walked and fed, and your mom will be home soon. Have a good sleep, little girl.”
At the door, she caught Patti’s grin. “I know, I know, but I can’t help it. To me, dogs are next to human. I know they have feelings and thoughts that coincide with ours. Kiki won’t settle happily until Dominique is home, and I thought to offer a bit of comfort to help her calm down.”
Hands on hips, Patti’s expression softened. “I’m just teasing. The way you care for our dogs, for all of those you walk, is why Janice and I love you. If you ever went out of business, I don’t know what we’d do.”
“That’s very sweet of you to say, and I appreciate it.” They led the dogs out of the apartment. “Where did Dominique tell you to leave her key?”
“Where else?” said Patti. Squatting, she slid the key under the mat and straightened it. “Dominique said the tenants in this building keep an eye on everything. She claims she has her own personal bodyguard living right across the hall.”
Raising her gaze to the mentioned apartment, Ellie started when the door snapped closed. It showed that at least one thing from those television police dramas was true: The typical New York apartment building had its share of busybodies.
They took the elevator down to the foyer and left the building. “Where to next?” asked Patti.
Three hours later, bedraggled and ready to call it a night, Ellie and Rudy entered their apartment. She dropped the mail on the kitchen table and walked back to the front hall, where she unhooked Rudy and hung up her coat. When she returned to the kitchen, her boy was sitting next to his placemat, his eyebrows raised in doggie exclamation points.
“I guess you want your dinner,” she said, removing his food bowl from the dish strainer. She measured a quarter cup of kibble from the pantry, added a spoonful of Grammy’s Pot Pie from the fridge, and dropped in his chopped carrots and green beans, mixing everything together. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, and I still have a ton of stuff to study up on before tomorrow.”
“Food first. Then I can think.”
He pattered a four-foot happy dance when she set his dish on the mat. By the time she finished microwaving a cup of relaxing chamomile tea, he was through eating and ready for more. “You suck your food the way a vacuum cleaner does the carpets. Did you even taste the expensive kibble and veggies in your dish?”
“Sure I did, but the taste don’t matter that much, as long as it fills my belly.” He gave a doggie belch. “And it did, but I’m still hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” She returned to the cupboard, found the special airtight jar that guaranteed to keep dry treats fresh, and removed an apple-and-carrot cookie. “How about a biscuit from Sara Studebaker’s canine bakeshop? That always tops you off. Makes you less cranky, too.”
“Cranky? Who you callin’ cranky?” he asked, right before catching his biscuit in the air.
“Cranky is the way you’re bossing me around about what we uncovered. It’s not my fault I can’t do anything with the stuff we found. You know what a pain the cops are when I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.” Sitting at the table, she took a long swallow of tea, then pulled the notebook from her bag. “And I’m certain that’s what Vaughn would say if I tried to explain all this nonsense.”
“Nonsense? What’s so nonsense about it? Patti had the keys, and the models knew we’d be in their apartments.” Planting his bottom, he used a rear leg to scratch a spot on his neck. “And after going through those apartments, Dominique isn’t the only one we have a reason to suspect.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, you can’t have an opinion in this matter, at least not one the police would care to hear.” She rubbed her nose as she flipped past the page on Dominique and moved on to Lawan. “And they aren’t going to believe me any more than they’d believe you, even though I’m human.”
“Then I guess we have to think it out ourselves.” He circled his mat a couple of times, then plopped down and curled into a ball. “So take it away. Let’s go over what we got again.”
Ellie heaved a sigh. “Okay, after we went to Kiki’s apartment we went to Daisy’s, which is also Lawan’s. She’s the one who had the identical newspaper picture of Lilah tacked to a dartboard and hung on the back of her kitchen door. And we didn’t have to snoop to find it.”
“Oh, yeah. Daisy said Lawan was breathin’ fire when Lilah accused her of messin’ up that runway walk on her own. Daisy said Lawan was gonna see to it Lilah never reached her dream of being a fashion designer.”
“And she won’t. But where does that put Lawan on the list? Threats alone won’t convince anyone she was the killer, especially the threats a Chihuahua overheard. And I doubt her using the photo for a dartboard would go over any better.”
“So let’s make her a maybe. Who’s next?”
“Kate and Baby. That was some apartment, wasn’t it? Almost as terrific as Patti and Janice’s.”
“Isn’t she one of them famous plus-sized humans?”
“That she is, as if you couldn’t tell by all the magazine articles and pictures she had framed on her walls. The apartment was like her own personal walk of fame. Who knew being a size twelve could be such a ticket to the high life.”
He gave a doggie snort. “I bet you could be one of ’em, if you wanted.”
Ellie couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to her boy to see only the best in his mistress. “You are too sweet. I could never be like Kate. First of all, parading around in my underwear in front of a crowd of reporters, photographers, and fashionistas isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”
“You could get used to it.”
“And all that fussy makeup and humongous hair?”
“You’d get used to that, too.”
“Never, plus I don’t take that great a photo.”
“But Marcus said he wanted you for his model.”
“Marcus David was blowing smoke, trying to earn points because for some reason he wants to get into my—my—well, you know what I mean.”
“Sure he does. The testosterone leaks offa him whenever he gets near you. It’s almost as bad as the pheromones Detective Demento reeks. And all I can say is ee-uuuw!”
“I don’t need any more of your commentary on testosterone, no matter who’s involved. And Kate didn’t have a thing in her apartment that would make me think she cared a fig about Lilah Perry.”
“Neither did that Crystal babe. Probably ’cause they’re both too big to need Lilah for anything. That’s why she never bothered Patti, either.”
“Patti is smart. She avoided Lilah at all costs, and made sure they never got into any type of disagreement.”
“But she’s really diggin’ her heels in on this one. Goin’ all out to help get Jeffery off the hook.”
“I know, and I find that ama
zing. In the two years we’ve walked her dog, I never once heard her go loopy over a guy. I just hope Mr. King appreciates it.”
“So we went through all the keys we had, but there’s more suspects.”
“Clark Fettel, for one.” She moved to the next page. “And Karen Hood, and Anton Rouch. And Yasmine didn’t go to the party, so we couldn’t get her key. I wasn’t aware she had a beef against Lilah, but the way things are going there was probably some kind of bad blood between them.”
“Don’t forget that testosterone guy, Marcus.”
“Marcus? Really?”
“Just because he has the hots for you don’t mean he can’t be a killer. And remember what Patti said about his sister.”
Ellie did remember, because Marcus mentioned it, too. But what would his dead sister have to do with Lilah? “I realize that. I just don’t know how to go about getting the skinny on him, or Clark, or Yasmine.”
“You’ll have to figure Fiddle-faddle and Yasmine out on your own, but I’m sure we could get into Marcus’s place.” He gave a doggie grin. “If you were available next time he asked you out.”
“You are incorrigible. People have a name for a woman who leads a man on, and it isn’t very nice.”
“So who cares? It’d just be for one night. You wouldn’t even have to swap spit. Just drop by and say you were in the neighborhood. Get him to ask you in, tell him you need to pee, and bingo, you’re in position to check out his bathroom, find an EpiPen or peanut oil.”
“And when do you propose I do this bit of skullduggery?”
“Whoa, now there’s a word. Skull-whatery?”
“I think it means the kind of activity one does on the side when they want to get information. Sort of sneaky.”
“Good call, because you’d definitely need to be sneaky. Didn’t he say there’d be lots of pictures and magazine stuff goin’ on tomorrow night, when they announce the contest winner? Why couldn’t you hang around and see what that’s all about? Then get him to invite you to his place . . . or somethin’.”