by Judi McCoy
“So in all your investigating did you find out anything that could help Jeffery?”
“A bit. Do you have anything to offer? Do you know if someone had a grudge against Lilah?”
Fiona raised her eyebrows. “Marcus David, of course. He thinks Lilah’s the reason his sister is dead.”
“I heard, and I’m looking into it. Anything else?”
“Good luck trying to get these people to talk about Lilah. They’re too self-serving to care.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve met some really nice people while working here.”
“Then you really haven’t heard about what goes on behind the scenes. The gossip and backbiting; the odds for a favorite and a not-so-favorite. That kind of thing.”
“If you’re talking about the betting on the outcome of this contest, Julie just told me.”
“So how would you feel to know the odds are against you? To learn that everything you’ve worked for is going up in smoke because some a-hole is taking bets on your talent over someone else’s? And the odds that you’ll win are a hundred to one?”
Wearing her most compassionate smile, Ellie walked to face her across the table. “I’m so sorry to hear that’s what’s going on. But do you really think Nola and Morgan will let some betting business sway their decision?”
The designer closed her eyes for a long moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d like to think they’re going to decide on creativity. They’re supposed to be looking for outfits that are simple yet classy and in tune with today’s modern woman. The clothes aren’t supposed to be right for the high-end trade, just things that a working mother can wear to her job, to take care of the kids, to shop in, and go out on the town.
“I made the cut, but I’m not that kind of designer.” She raised a hand and pointed to her rack of finished outfits. “They’re edgy and unique, not for taking the kids to soccer after working all day. I never should have entered the contest, but I did. And I gave it my all, but I don’t think I can continue designing that type of clothing.” Fiona set the scissors on the table and crossed her arms. “I tried to take Lilah’s advice, which gave me an in, but now I’m wondering . . .”
“Wondering what?” asked Ellie after a few seconds went by.
Fiona shook her head and her rat’s nest of hair jiggled. “Nothing. Just . . . it’s nothing.”
“Can I get you anything? A bottled water or a plate of fruit?” How else could she lend Fiona a hand? “Maybe you need to go outside for a few minutes.”
The girl heaved another sigh. “Nah. I’m fine.” Her smile trembled. “Thanks for the offer, but I have to take care of myself. And you can bring the dogs over anytime. Their outfits are cut. I just have to do a final fitting.”
Focusing on the table, she lowered her head and went back to work, cutting her fabric in a calmer manner. Her dismissal was clear, so Ellie walked on with fingers crossed. This was taking longer than it should and she had to get the schedule of two more people. She only hoped Julie could handle the dogs.
Chapter 14
Ellie arrived at Kitty’s design station, happy to see that things there appeared more normal. Stacks of fabric sat on the table, but not in any particular color order. Spools of thread were piled next to the fabric, as were needles, pins, measuring tapes, trim, tissue paper, and scissors.
The petite designer was so intent on finishing the outfit she’d stretched over a toy canine, she didn’t realize she had an audience. The lovely, soft green costume she’d created had columns of interesting chain work circling the neckline and four vinyl booties tied like Christmas packages on the stuffed canine’s paws.
She waited until Kitty finished pinning another row of chain on the backline of the coat before clearing her throat to announce her presence. A moment later, the girl raised her head and they locked gazes.
“Hi,” said Kitty, her smile thin. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I know. And you were so busy working, I didn’t want to disturb you. I guess that outfit is for one of the mini Schnauzers. It looks like you ended up with Jojo and Klingon.”
“Sizewise, I think it’ll be okay, but I won’t know for sure until the final fit.” She set down her scissors. “I was so hoping Jeffery would be here today, but he has yet to make an appearance.”
It figured Kitty’s older brother would be on her mind. Ellie could only imagine how difficult it would be to compete in a life-changing event when your only sibling had been accused of murder. “Have he and Mr. Williams come up with a defense?”
Kitty rubbed her nose, her eyes filling with tears. “I think they’re going to use reasonable doubt, but I’m not quite sure what that means. Do you know?”
“It means Mr. Williams will try to prove that anyone could have doctored the perfume strips, or unloaded the EpiPen into that orange,” Ellie counseled. “Lilah had a lot of enemies, and from what I’ve heard, quite a few of them hung around the table while the swag bags were on display.” She folded her arms. “It’s the same with the tote bag that held her EpiPen. It sat underneath the food table for hours, while you and I ran around with the dogs. Anyone could have taken care of it, if they were sneaky enough.”
“Then Mr. Williams needs to emphasize that being sneaky isn’t Jeffery’s way,” Kitty said, her expression determined. “In fact, he’s almost too honest. He never lies, just tells it like it is. That’s the reason he had it out with Lilah as soon as he realized she stole my designs.”
“I believe it when you say your brother is honest. If there was any doubt, Nola and Morgan wouldn’t be defending him with such conviction. Unfortunately, Jeffery is also the most obvious suspect. He had motive and opportunity, which is all the cops needed for the arrest.” She rested a hip against the cutting table. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I already have several people I believe had motive and opportunity, too. And that’s good for us.”
Kitty’s smile turned tremulous. “Really? Do you think you can get the police to work with what you discovered?”
“Sad to say, that’s the hardest part.” She didn’t want to depress Kitty by playing up the negatives, but she had to be truthful. “I need a really compelling reason to convince Detective Vaughn to take a look at what I collected.”
Kitty’s eyes, a lovely bluish green, shined with gratitude. “And you’ll find one, right?”
“I’ll give it my best shot.” Ellie straightened her shoulders. “I know your head is wrapped up in the contest, but I need to ask you a couple of things.”
“If it has to do with helping free Jeffery, I’ll put the contest aside. Winning won’t mean anything to me if my big brother is in jail.”
“Okay, think hard. I know we’ve discussed this before, but you were in and out with me the day Lilah died. Who did you see hanging around the table?”
Kitty raised her gaze to the ceiling. “The models, of course. They were all so excited about getting the expensive gift bags.”
“Did you see any of them standing around a bit too long? Or inspecting bags that weren’t their own?”
“I have no idea. The only way they could find out which bag belonged to who was if they read the tag, and that was tied to the handle.”
“Right, I remember,” said Ellie, recalling the delicate calligraphy that had spelled out her name. “And you say you saw every model sneaking a peek?”
“I don’t think any of the big-name ones did. Just the second-tier girls.”
“Second-tier girls?”
“You know, like Claire and Lawan. Crystal, Kate, and Patti are famous; the others all hope to achieve their level of success someday. As for the designers, I doubt Anton Rouch paid attention to anything other than his designs. He’s an odd duck when it comes to following the rules. I can’t imagine him caring about the contents of a goodie bag, even if it was full of costly gifts.”
“I stopped at his station a little while ago. His area was, um, extremely neat.”
Kitty raised an eyebrow. “He
gets furious if he hears people talk about it, but he has OCD. Lilah knew it, and she used to bug him about it, which drove him nuts.” She rested her backside against the table. “Do you think he might be the killer?”
“Not unless he had a chance to doctor those bags. Now, how about Fiona?”
“Fiona is odd, too, but in a different way. If she had trouble with Lilah, she’d have gotten right to it, not let it fester until she wanted to commit murder.”
“Hmm.” Ellie waited a beat, hoping Kitty wouldn’t read anything into her next question. “And Marcus?”
“Marcus David is a very nice guy.” Kitty cocked her head. “You do know that he wants to hook up with you, right?”
Heat again inched up Ellie’s chest. “I got that impression, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I heard he lost his sister a while back, and Lilah had a hand in that, too. What do you know about it?”
“Not much. I was out the day it happened, but Sylvie was always here. Lilah used to talk about her when Marcus wasn’t around because she knew he’d call her on it. The morning of the accident, Marcus was late, but Sylvie came in on time. She just picked on the wrong designer.”
“The story I heard was really sad. I don’t blame Marcus for being angry or upset.”
“He was more than upset,” said Kitty. “No one could talk to him for days, months even. And he avoided Lilah like the plague. Everyone kept waiting for the big blowup between them, but aside from him trying to strangle her before the taxi accident, he never went near her.”
“Do you think he’s clever enough to have bided his time, waited things out until the perfect moment, then found a way to do her in and implicate Jeffery?”
“I hate to think he could do that, but I guess anything is possible.” Kitty shrugged. “He and Jeffery weren’t pals, but they were civil. In fact, my brother was pleased to hear the committee had chosen Marcus to be in this contest. He said Marcus had a good chance of winning the prize.” She gave a tentative smile. “That was before I was added, of course.”
“Okay, let’s move on to other people. Who else was hanging around that day?”
“Hmm. Well, I saw Morgan Prince staking out the action right after Jeffery and his crew delivered the bags. There were a few of the hairdressers peeking in the baskets, too. Karen Hood, Eduardo, you know, the usual suspects.”
“And all of them had a gripe against Lilah.”
“Just about. She was a real piece of work. I still don’t know why she wasn’t blackballed after her altercation with Sylvie. Word was, someone high up in the business vouched for her, and she was allowed to keep her place.”
“And no one knows who that was?”
“Not me, but maybe Jeffery does. Have you talked to him?”
“No, but I want to. I was hoping to find him here, cheering you on.”
“If he shows up, I can send him to you. Would that help?”
“Yes, absolutely. Now, I’ve got to find Marcus, then get back to helping Julie with the dogs. What time are you planning to pick yours up for their final fitting?”
“No one’s told me anything, so I assume we’ll be in the same order we were earlier. I should dress them by five thirty, because the first catwalk goes on at six, the second at six thirty, and the grand finale at seven. Then the entire cast takes a break while the judges do their thing. The girls stay in the last design and we wait for the big announcement.”
“How tough will that be for you?”
“To wait? Not as difficult as waiting to hear some good news about my brother.”
“Then I guess I’d better get going, huh?”
Kitty grasped Ellie’s hand and squeezed. “I know you’ll give it your best effort. I’m counting on you.”
With her mind churning on how to give Vaughn the information she’d amassed, Ellie headed for Marcus’s workstation. His table was a good distance from Kitty’s, which made perfect sense. If the contestants were separated, there’d be less complaints of plagiarizing a design. She’d paid attention to the fashion gossip, and knew that even fabric and color played a part in a designer’s art. If someone took the same “look” as another artist, they were written off as untrustworthy and unprofessional.
She spotted Marcus from a distance, bent over his table, and was again impressed by his lanky-yet-muscular build. Today’s apparel consisted of bright white high-tops, worn jeans that hugged his class-A butt, and a pale yellow shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looked, as usual, like a man comfortable in his own skin.
Nearing the table, she saw that his area was laid out exactly like Kitty’s, only a bit more disorderly. And he too was working on a canine creation, a dapper, bright red coat that was strapped under and around the belly of Lucy, the new model’s dog.
Not wanting to surprise him, she stepped to his side and placed her hands on the tabletop, silently announcing her presence.
Marcus finished a last knot on the design and turned to face her, his expression confident. “Are you here to wish me good luck?”
“Of course.”
He arched an eyebrow. “But you want Kitty to win.”
“How can I not? She was my first assistant, and I grew to think of her as a friend.” Ellie raised a shoulder. “Now that her brother has been wrongly accused of murder, I can’t help but be on her side.”
“It sounds to me as if you’re positive Jeffery King is innocent,” he said, cocking a hip against the table.
Unsure of how much to reveal to a would-be suspect, she waited a moment before answering. “Let’s just say I’ve uncovered enough evidence against a few others to give his attorney a decent line of defense.”
“Good for Jeffery, then.” He grinned. “I never asked, but I’ve been wondering, what do you think of my designs?”
Ellie gazed at Lucy. “Hmm, I’m not sure I’d look good in that much red.”
Marcus crossed his arms and nodded toward two designs on dummy models propped along the back wall of his station. Black coats with stand-up collars and red toggle buttons were draped over what appeared to be red and black checked dresses in a figure-skimming style.
“That’s the people-wear, and red is only an accent. I thought I’d work the canine coats in the opposite direction, red topside with an accent of black toggles.”
“Very clever,” said Ellie, and she meant it. “Your human coat is practical, yet stylish. I’d wear it.”
“That’s good to know. I just hope the NMD people agree with you.” He began disrobing Lucy. “This little girl is all set, so, if you like, you can bring her back to the pen for me. Unless you’re on some kind of scouting mission?”
“I’m visiting all the designers,” she told him, which was true. She hated being so secretive, but how much could she tell him? “I haven’t had much experience watching creative geniuses at work.”
“Creative geniuses?” His grin broadened. “Thanks for the compliment. It’s important, coming from you.”
Inhaling fresh air in hope of preventing a blush, she said, “Just remember, I’m a nobody in this contest. No one has asked for my vote, let alone my opinion.”
“But if they did?”
“I’d have to think about it.”
“Now there’s a decisive answer.”
“Ru-Rudy?” she sputtered, jumping when she heard his voice. She reached down and rubbed his ears. What was the little stinker doing here?
“Who else were you expectin’?”
“I noticed your little guy right away,” said Marcus when she stood. “I thought you knew he was tagging along.”
“I guess I sort of forgot about him,” Ellie lied. Last she knew, her boy was in the pen back at the food tables. And she hadn’t given him permission to leave Julie’s care. “He’s quiet that way.”
“Home base got boring. I figured you had to be doin’ somethin’ more interesting.”
She gave a mental ten count, careful to keep her thoughts to herself. “He likes being where the action is.”
>
“I can tell from the twinkle in his eyes,” said Marcus.
“See that. I twinkle.”
“That twinkle sometimes means trouble,” she explained to the human in the three-way conversation. “He likes sticking his snout where it doesn’t belong.”
“I like stickin’ my snout where it doesn’t belong?” he asked with innocence. “What about you?”
“Sometimes he’s such a pain, I forget what I’m doing.” She gave her pal a pointed look, determined to get back on track with Marcus. “Julie told me something earlier, something personal about you, and I wanted to get the story straight from the source. It’s about your—”
“My baby sister, Sylvie.”
“I’m sorry, but yes. Is it too painful for you to talk about?”
His lips thinned. “What do you think?”
“I know how bad it can be to lose a loved one. I was fifteen when my dad died, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. In a way, that moment shaped the rest of my life.”
Her father had loved dogs, even though her mother didn’t. He’d encouraged her to get a fuzzy four-legged pal when she was out of the house and on her own. Then he promised to visit her, so the three of them could take long walks together.
“My dad was crazy about dogs, but my mom wasn’t, and she ruled the roost, er, the kennel. It was one of the few things my parents didn’t agree on, so my father caved and Georgette, that’s my mother, got her way.”
His eyes closed for a long moment. “My two middle sisters, Samantha and Sydney, always did their own thing, but Sylvie looked to me for advice and guidance. I was her big brother, her protector, her rock. There was only one thing we didn’t see eye to eye on, and that was her dream to become a fashion model.”
“I know there are quite a few rules for being a hit in this industry: height, weight, lots of good hair, classic bone structure, and the ability to work with the camera. Did she have those traits?”
“She was tall enough and her hair was fine. Bone structure, too, but she never got thin enough to look good in front of the camera. She could have had a career as a plus-sized runway model, but she wanted more, and for some reason she thought I could get it for her. The other designers trusted me to make her understand . . . all of them but Lilah, that is.”