MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  Penelope trotted down Mrs. Sotheby’s steps, waving goodbye and pulling the door closed quietly behind her. She ducked around the corner to where Officer Gomez was waiting, leaning up against the building gazing at her phone.

  “What were you doing in there?” she asked.

  “Just saying hi. And I asked her to keep an eye on the courtyard from upstairs, to call for help if I need it,” Penelope said. She tucked her white dress shirt into her black slacks. “How do I look?”

  Officer Gomez looked down at her outfit. “Like you’re going on a job interview.”

  “Good,” Penelope said. “I was going for professional.”

  Officer Gomez shook her head. “We have a senior citizen as our surveillance backup and a personal chef as our undercover agent. And me out here with no way to hear what’s going on inside. So far this seems like a great plan.” She muttered something in Spanish under her breath that Penelope couldn’t translate.

  “I’m going to record our conversation,” Penelope said, pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket. “We’re just going to talk. I assume it’s not like a convenience store where I swipe my credit card and get to walk out with a child laborer. She’s either going to agree to a transaction with me or she’s going to act like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Officer Gomez nodded, but still seemed unsure. “I saw the girls go in, but I can really nail for trafficking if I catch her in the act of selling one of them. If it doesn’t work, I’m calling it in and getting them out, charging her with false imprisonment.”

  “I’m just worried she’ll say she’s adopted them and that’s their dorm room,” Penelope said. “She’s got that paperwork. She’ll walk out of the station, grab them up and they’ll all be gone by morning. She’s intimidating to them, remember? I doubt they will say anything against her.”

  “I know,” Officer Gomez said, setting her jaw in a tight line. “Okay, do what you can.”

  “Right,” Penelope said. “Let’s see what happens.”

  After a few more minutes of debate and warnings to be safe, Penelope brushed off her jacket and walked around the corner of the house, past the courtyard and up the stoop, pressing the button to ring MUI. The door buzzed open and she was greeted in the reception area by Joyce, the initial look of expectation on her face falling into disappointment when she saw it was Penelope.

  “Oh, it’s you. What can I do for you?” Joyce asked with a note of boredom in her voice.

  “I’m here on behalf of Arlena,” Penelope said. “She’s interested in hiring some additional talent from you.”

  Joyce’s expression perked up. “Really? I see. In that case, please take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly. I’m just finishing up with another client.”

  “Okay, I can wait a few minutes,” Penelope said. She took a seat in front of the hearth and watched Joyce walk down the hall to the conference room. She thought about going to the kitchen to check on Sinay, but didn’t want to agitate Joyce if she caught her back there snooping. Penelope pulled her phone out of her blazer pocket and checked that it was still recording, slipping it back in quickly when she heard the conference door open.

  “Thank you. We can get that sorted out for you right away,” Joyce said as she led someone back down the hall.

  Penelope watched as they walked towards her, catching a glimpse of a tall blond man in the darkened hallway. Penelope kept her face as still as possible when she finally saw his face, recognizing Jesse immediately as he entered the main room. He looked at Penelope and did a quick double take, locking his eyes onto hers and then looking away. When he reached the door he turned to say goodbye to Joyce, shaking her hand firmly.

  Joyce led Penelope down the hall to the conference room she and Jesse had just vacated. Penelope took a seat at the table.

  “Did Miss Madison decide on the girls for her show? We haven’t held the in-person auditions yet,” Joyce said.

  “No, this is for something else,” Penelope said. “Arlena wishes to become a Blue Card client. She was told you could help with that.” She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair, forcing her shoulders to relax under her jacket.

  Joyce pinched her lips. “And who referred her to the Blue Card program?” Joyce said, eyeing Penelope suspiciously.

  “Sienna Wentworth,” Penelope said without hesitation, taking a chance that her gamble would pay off. “You know they’re dear friends. Sienna recommended she get in touch with you if she needed extra help.”

  “Where is Arlena?” Joyce asked. “I prefer to deal with clients directly when hiring out talent. We have a standard contract we use, which she will have to sign. No agents.”

  Penelope nodded. “Can you give her an idea of what you have to offer? And the cost?”

  “Have her get in touch, and we’ll see what we can work out,” Joyce said.

  “Arlena is very busy, and she’ll be disappointed if I don’t come back with the information she asked for. Can you at least give me a ballpark figure? I have to report back to her with at least that much.”

  “Twenty up front, non-negotiable,” Joyce said flatly.

  Penelope stood up. “I’ll relay the message and get back with you by tomorrow.”

  Penelope and Officer Gomez sat in Mrs. Sotheby’s kitchen and listened to the recording on Penelope’s phone while she heated up the kettle for tea.

  “She doesn’t say anything incriminating,” Officer Gomez said. “She doesn’t trust you enough.”

  “I can see why she’d be cautious,” Penelope said.

  “She could be talking about anything. Even about hiring models, which is her legitimate business,” Officer Gomez said, turning off the recording. “It was a nice try, but this isn’t enough.”

  “I saw someone I knew in there,” Penelope said. “One of the models from Sienna’s show.”

  “He’s probably represented by the agency,” Officer Gomez said, leaning back in her chair. She was in her street clothes, her long black hair curling over her shoulders.

  “Maybe,” Penelope said. “I saw him when I went to talk to Sienna that next day at her hotel suite. He was there with his girlfriend. I woke them all up.” Penelope thought back to the girl’s legs she saw in the bed. Something tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Okay, it’s time to call this in,” Officer Gomez said. “I can probably get her for holding the girls in that basement against their will. And for the physical abuse to Sinay, who will be my witness. Hopefully we can get the rest of the charges lined up against her.”

  “And what if you can’t?” Penelope asked. “If Joyce has been doing this for a while, she must be good at getting through the red tape. And she might be getting help from powerful people, like you said.”

  Officer Gomez rested her gaze on the table. “At least if I go in there and get them out, I know they can’t get hurt. Or sold.”

  “But if you’re wrong and they’re right back with her the next day, you’ll have tipped her off. If someone is helping Joyce from inside the police department, couldn’t they cause problems for you…get you transferred away from here or worse?”

  Officer Gomez looked at her grimly, and balled her hands into fists on the table.

  “Here you go, dears,” Mrs. Sotheby said, placing two mugs down on the table in front of them. Officer Gomez excused herself to step outside and make a call.

  “Oh, before I forget, thanks for letting me borrow this,” Penelope said after she heard the front door close, pulling a small pistol from her purse and sitting it on the table.

  “Was it helpful?” Mrs. Sotheby asked, sitting down next to her.

  “Yes, thanks. Even though it wasn’t loaded, I felt better having it with me, just to scare her if she tried anything.”

  “Go ahead and hang onto it for a little while, if it makes you feel bett
er,” Mrs. Sotheby said. Penelope slipped it back into her purse quickly when she heard Officer Gomez coming down the hall.

  When Penelope got back to the hotel, she changed into jeans and a sweater and headed upstairs to the Madisons’ suite. She was greeted at the door by Randall, who ushered her into the living room. Max was on the couch next to Arlena, and Sienna sat in one of the chairs facing them.

  “I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Penelope asked, stopping short when she saw Arlena’s flat expression and the tears on Sienna’s cheeks. “I’ll come back.”

  “No,” Randall said, “It’s okay. Sienna was just telling us about the baby.”

  Arlena’s eyes cut across to Penelope, her mouth twisted into a half smile. “Yes, Sienna was just telling us that she and Max are having a baby together.”

  “Wow,” Penelope said. “That’s huge. So Hannah was telling the truth about that.”

  Sienna looked at her with an alarmed glance, and Max rubbed her shoulder.

  “That’s why you’re drinking ginger tea, and why you got sick the other morning,” Penelope said.

  “It does help with morning sickness, but not completely,” Sienna said, sighing.

  “It’s just unbelievable,” Arlena cut in, “that my little brother has impregnated one of my friends, after all the times I’ve told him how I feel about him...” She stood up from the couch without finishing her thought, went to the kitchenette, and grabbed a bag of chips, ripping it open. She crunched angrily and leaned on the counter, staring at Max.

  “Arlena,” Randall said, walking over and putting a hand on her back. “Love happens when we least expect it. And children sometimes grow out of that love.”

  “Gross, Daddy.” Arlena ate another chip. Her mouth full, she mumbled, “You should be very proud. Your son is taking after you in every way.” She grabbed the chips and walked into the bedroom, closing the door forcefully behind her. Penelope followed her, leaning inside the room and mumbling, “You okay?”

  Arlena nodded and waved her off, and Penelope closed the door quietly.

  “I should go,” Penelope said. “Congratulations, you guys.” She walked to the door and slipped out, leaving the growing Madison clan behind.

  Penelope returned to her room, thinking about everything that had happened over the past few days. Max was going to be a father and had been charged with murder, Joey was somewhere else, her current gig was a nightmare, and she was living in a hotel. She set her shoulders and closed her eyes, determined to get things back under control.

  Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and her eyes popped open. She smiled when she saw a text from Joey. “Almost back to NYC. Need to see you.”

  Penelope typed a quick response.

  Chapter 34

  An hour later, Penelope walked into Read It and Weep and found the small travel section, pulling a book from the shelf about Venezuela. She took it to the café and ordered a candy cane latte, taking a seat at one of the empty tables in the corner. She leafed through the pages, stopping to look at the photos of the various mountains and beaches.

  “Hi, Penelope,” Jimmy said as he approached her table. He had a few paperbacks under his arm. “You’re looking better.”

  “Thanks,” Penelope said. She motioned to the chair next to her and he sat down. “Remember when you told me there was something about a morals clause in Max’s contract?”

  Jimmy nodded. “Yes, it’s a pretty standard clause, so I’ve heard.”

  “I wonder what the show would do if they found out Hannah was lying to the police about Max being a murderer because she was jealous of him being with another woman.”

  “Well, I’m no lawyer, but that sounds pretty immoral to me,” Jimmy said. He put his stack of books on the table and folded his hands in his lap.

  “She’s basically admitted it, dared me to tell Max about seeing her and Christian together. She hasn’t come out and said anything publicly about hers and Max’s relationship,” Penelope said.

  “She should worry more about lying to the police than what her fans think,” Jimmy said. “They don’t like that one bit.”

  “Can you get me upstairs the next time she’s home?” Penelope asked.

  “I’ll do better than that,” Jimmy said, standing up from his seat. “Wait here.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jimmy entered the café, followed by Hannah Devore. She looked contrite, but there was still a glimmer of defiance in her eyes.

  “Hannah,” Penelope said tightly. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  Penelope looked at Jimmy as he retook his seat. “She had a choice. She could either come and talk to you, or I could let some folks know about the contraband housekeeping found in her apartment. Hannah’s parents are very clear about it. If she’s caught with any illegal drugs, she’s shipped right back home and into rehab.”

  “It was just a little weed,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes. “One joint.”

  Jimmy smiled at her. “Still technically illegal, and still something they’d want to know about. So,” he glanced at Penelope, “talk.”

  “Take back what you’re saying about Max,” Penelope said.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because it’s a lie, and it could ruin his life.”

  “And why should I care about ruining his life when he has no regard for mine?” Hannah sniffed.

  “I know about Sienna and the baby, and I know it must be hurtful for you,” Penelope said. “But you can’t do this to him just because you’re jealous and upset.”

  Hannah stared her in the eyes. “The old hag can have him. I’ve moved on. I never loved him anyway. I just don’t want to be seen by the whole world as the one who got dumped.”

  Penelope shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “So this is just about your reputation? Your heart isn’t broken over Max and Sienna?”

  “No, I really don’t care,” Hannah said, smiling. “But you should ask yourself why he’s lying and saying that baby is his. Immaculate conceptions don’t happen often.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “I have to get back. See you around, Hannah.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes at him. “You want me to recant my statement about Max? Fine. I’m sure it will take more than that to get those charges dropped.” She stood up and walked away from the table, leaving Penelope more confused about Max than ever.

  She sat for a few minutes, staring into space and letting her coffee go cold. Her phone buzzed on the table, bringing her back to reality. She saw Mrs. Sotheby’s name on the screen and answered quickly.

  “Hello?”

  “Penelope, dear,” Mrs. Sotheby said in a voice just above a whisper.

  “Hi, is everything okay?”

  “Yes, well, maybe. Something is going on next door.”

  Penelope sat up straighter in her chair. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure. I saw a man going in and out of the upstairs apartment all morning, like he was moving his things in. Do you think that awful woman would have someone new living there so soon?”

  “Well, we think she’s trafficking children, so that seems minor in comparison,” Penelope said.

  “You’re right about that. But then I’m sure I heard some shouting, and that young man from the bodega stopped by and got into an argument with the new tenant. He was trying to deliver groceries but the man wouldn’t let him in.”

  “Did you call Officer Gomez?”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Sotheby cried suddenly. Penelope heard a faint crackling noise over the phone.

  “What happened?” Penelope asked, standing up from her chair.

  “I just heard a gunshot!”

  “Mrs. Sotheby, hang up now and call 911,” Penelope said.

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Sotheby said, suddenly breathing heavily. “Penelope, help me.”

>   Penelope heard the phone receiver drop on the floor and then silence. She grabbed her purse and jacket and bolted towards the door.

  Chapter 35

  Penelope dialed 911 from the back of the cab, giving them Mrs. Sotheby’s address.

  “What is the nature of the emergency?” the operator asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a heart attack,” Penelope said. “Please hurry, she’s there by herself.”

  A few minutes later the cab pulled up outside Mrs. Sotheby’s, and Penelope was shocked to find she had beaten the ambulance there. She pounded on the front door. “Mrs. Sotheby! It’s Penelope!”

  When there was no answer, she went around the side of the brownstone to the kitchen door. She tried the knob and it turned freely in her hand. She yanked the door open and ran into the house, taking the main stairs two at a time until she reached the office. She heard the ambulance siren outside just as she found Mrs. Sotheby on the floor next to the desk, her face tinged with blue.

  “Mrs. Sotheby,” Penelope said, placing her fingers on her neck and finding a faint pulse.

  “Emergency medical,” someone yelled from downstairs as they knocked on the front door.

  Penelope took one last look at her friend, then hurried down the stairs to open the door. “She’s up there,” Penelope said, stepping aside so the EMTs could get past her. She followed them up the stairs and stood in the doorway of the office as they knelt on the floor, assessing Mrs. Sotheby. Penelope closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, fighting back tears as they lifted her onto a gurney and wheeled her downstairs to the ambulance. One of the EMTs handed her a card. “We’re taking her to Chelsea Med.”