“What’s a girl who lives on Cherry Street doing buying a twenty-thousand-dollar wedding gown?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” I said.
“My guys definitely didn’t tell me anything about this. I’ll check in with them. Thanks, Ziva.”
I clicked off with Detective Hart and turned to Aria.
“Is our work done?” Aria looked to me hopefully. I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t forget what Gwen had said about the other designer, Paul Frederick. He had a competing bridal salon on the opposite end of the Strip. It was definitely worth checking out until the police pinned Lucia. For all we knew, she hadn’t been acting alone, if in fact she was the killer.
I relayed my thoughts to Aria.
“Well, at least you’ll get a chance to try on more dresses,” Aria said with a smile.
I thought back to that gorgeous, beaded, form-fitting gown. My stomach did a little flip flop. I wanted that dress bad. One look at my face, and Aria knew it too.
“I told you you loved that dress.”
5
Frederick’s Bridal was slammed. And I mean slammed. I was shocked to see a line out the door and couldn’t fathom why so many women would be rushing to buy a wedding gown today. We asked the girl in line in front of us.
“Mr. Frederick released his new collection today. Duh.” Okay, she didn’t say that last word, but she might as well have given the look she shot us.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. I can’t believe we forgot. Thanks,” I said.
“What do you want to do?” Aria asked me, surveying the long line in front of us.
“I’m thinking that maybe we could use the chaos to our advantage. It might be easier to get someone to talk if they don’t think they’ll be heard.”
Aria shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, let’s give it a try.”
Two girls dressed in black and sitting at a long table draped in a white cloth were checking girls in as they made it to the front of the line.
“Who’s the bride?” one of them asked us.
“She is,” Aria replied for us.
“Do you have an appointment?” the girl asked me.
“Here’s the thing. We were supposed to have an appointment with Melanie May, but when we arrived at the salon, it was closed.”
“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” The girl leaned toward us. “She was murdered Thursday night.”
“No!” Aria and I said in unison.
“Yes, her body was found decaying in the desert.” Technically it wasn’t really decayed. Obviously, I couldn’t correct the girl.
“Oh my gosh, Ziva, what if someone would’ve murdered her while we were in her salon?”
I looked at my bestie, horror-struck. “We can’t go back there, ever!” I said dramatically.
“What are we going to do?” Aria looked at the girl to save the day.
She bought it.
“Give me just a minute and I’ll see if I have a consultant free to work with you.” The girl talked to someone through her ear piece. “If you could have a seat over there, Clarissa will be out with you in a minute.”
It was more like fifteen minutes, but I wasn’t going to complain seeing how swamped the store was. I quickly learned that it wasn’t the new designs women were clamoring after, but the deeply discounted gowns from last season. Heaven help me. This wedding dress shopping was serious business. I found myself longing for the little wedding boutique in Port Haven and a king-size candy bar.
Clarissa was a leggy blonde with a blunt-cut bob and sparkling green eyes. “Sorry to keep you girls waiting. It’s been a madhouse since we opened the doors,” she said.
“No problem. Thanks for fitting us in,” I said.
We followed Clarissa back to a fitting room that had a settee and two gray bergère chairs. Aria and I sat across from Clarissa.
“I understand you had an appointment with Melanie May this morning?” she asked.
“We did,” I said.
“It’s so tragic. She was a great designer,” Clarissa said. I was happy to hear her speak well of Melanie. Having a sympathetic consultant could only work to our benefit.
“I know. I love her work, but Mr. Frederick’s is great too,” I said.
“He does have quite a style about him.” Clarissa pointed to the framed magazine spread in the room. Mr. Frederick was dressed in a black tux covered entirely in matching sequins, complete with a top hat. He looked like a circus ringmaster.
“That he does. I’m excited to see what you find for me.” I tried to muster up as much enthusiasm as possible.
That comment got Clarissa back on track to helping me pick out the perfect gown. “What is it you’re looking for exactly? Ms. May’s and Mr. Frederick’s designs aren’t exactly alike,” she said.
“I’m really not sure. How about you show me your favorite ones and we’ll go from there? It doesn’t matter what collection they come from. I love some of his original dresses,” I said. My hope was that she would lead us away from the crazy sale out front and toward the dresses more in the back.
“Okay, we can do that. Follow me and I’ll show you a few designs,” Clarissa said.
“Excellent,” I replied.
“While you girls do that, I’m going to wander around and see what I can find on my own,” Aria said.
I hadn’t told her to branch off, but that was a good idea. It would be easier to ask Clarissa about Mr. Frederick if it was just the two of us.
As we walked through the store, I could see elements of Mr. Frederick’s stage work in his dresses. He wasn’t afraid to incorporate unconventional materials or colors, like his off-the-shoulder mint green floral dress, or the sheer bodice one we saw with a floaty organza skirt. I didn’t see one plain Jane wedding dress in the bunch. I also didn’t see anything that I liked, let alone loved, but I did manage to lead us to a relatively quiet corner of the store. I looked side to side before whispering to Clarissa, “You don’t think Mr. Frederick had anything to do with Melanie’s death, do you?”
“What?” Clarissa asked, seeming surprised by my question.
“While we were out front here, I heard someone say that that they had some big designer feud,” I said by way of explanation.
Clarissa looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody was in earshot. “It’s no secret that Melanie stole his designer sketchbook. Mr. Frederick said if you look at Melanie’s designs this year they’re almost an exact copy of what he had sketched last year.”
“When did his sketchbook go missing?” Gwen had only said last year.
“Last spring, at the Paris fashion show. Someone gained access to his hotel room and trashed it in an attempt to find his book. He knew his designs would surface one way or another and was ready to fight Melanie when she boldly displayed them in this spring’s fashion show.”
“What did the police say?”
Clarissa did a double take. “The police? Why would he go to the police?”
“You said she stole from him.”
“Yes, his designs. His ideas. There was no way he could prove it in a way that mattered to them. All he could do was go after her reputation.”
“So, he did and now she’s been murdered.”
“I know.”
“Is Mr. Frederick here?”
“No. He said he needed some creative downtime. He’ll probably be back in next week.” Either that or he and Lucia are kicking it in Mexico.
“You know that looks really suspicious,” I said.
“I know, but Mr. Frederick’s bark is worse than his bite. He likes to pitch his little fits, but I don’t think he’s ever gotten into a real fight.”
“You don’t think he’s involved in anyway?”
“I wouldn’t be standing here if I did.”
“That’s a relief. It would freak me out to buy a dress from a murderer,” I said.
“I don’t think you should have any worries there. Now what do you think of this one?”
“It’s, er,
pretty.” If I wanted to look like a peacock.
We left Frederick’s Bridal and headed back to our hotel to meet up with the guys. The conference should have wrapped up for the day and hopefully the police had publicly identified the body as belonging to Melanie. If that was the case, I assumed the reporters would no longer be looking to us for confirmation.
“That was exhausting,” Aria said to me.
“Tell me about it. You weren’t the one trying on all those gaudy dresses.”
Aria laughed. “Those were pretty awful, but that’s not what I meant. It’s mind-numbing trying to piece all these clues together. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I’ve never thought of it that way. I guess part of me likes the challenge. Plus, I have a thing for making sure justice is served. Speaking of which, it looks like I just found a possible address for Melanie. You mind if we do a quick drive-by? It looks like it’s on the way.”
“No, I guess not. Just text the guys and let them know we’re taking a detour. I know Vince said he was starving.”
“I am too.” Breakfast was hours ago.
Melanie’s condo was less than five minutes from her salon, which made sense. No one liked a long commute to work.
“That has to be her place.” Aria pointed to the townhouse on the end with the crime scene tape securing the parameter and a crime scene van parked in front. Various police personnel were on the property; add in the news vans with reporters standing around, and it looked like everyone was waiting for something to start.
“Hurry up,” I said to Aria as she looked for a place to park. The door to the townhouse opened and the reporters were on the move. I recognized Detective Hart immediately. She addressed the cameras first by confirming that the woman’s body found in the desert was that of Melanie May. The reporters began shouting questions to her:
“Have any arrests been made?”
“Are there any witnesses?”
“Do we know the approximate time of death?”
“If you can hold your questions to the end, I will do my best to answer them. Right now it’s early in the investigation. We are starting to piece things together and will update the public as needed. At this time, there is no concern for public safety.” I didn’t know what evidence the police had, but that last statement told me that either Melanie’s murder wasn’t random, or that they had a person of interest already in custody. If not, I imagined they would be warning the public to be on the lookout and not let their guard down.
“Is anyone in custody?” A reporter asked, ignoring the request to hold all questions.
Detective Hart kept her answer short, “No, not at this time. Now if you would please hold your questions, a representative of Melanie’s family would like to speak.”
For the first time, I noticed an older woman, probably in her late fifties, standing off to the side behind Detective Hart. The woman was petite and slender, with the same rich brown eyes as Melanie. She started by saying, “I just want to give a brief statement. I’m Veronica May, Melanie’s mom. I’m sure you all know that my daughter was my world and our family is heartbroken.”
Veronica’s composure started to fall apart. She took a moment to steady herself before continuing. “I would like to plead with anyone who has information about my daughter’s murder to please contact the Las Vegas Metropolitan police department. An anonymous line has also been set up if you wish to leave information that way. Melanie deserves justice. We need that justice. It’s all we have left. Please.” Veronica stared into the camera, her face raw with emotion. I thought she was going to walk away, but instead she squared off her shoulders and added, “And Zane? I swear, if you had anything to do with my daughter’s death, you will pay. That’s a promise.”
Veronica looked hard at the cameras. Aria shuddered. I stared shocked that Veronica would end her statement with a threat to her daughter’s fiancé.
“Was your daughter afraid for her life?”
“Did she tell you Zane might hurt her?”
Veronica ignored the questions tossed at her, instead turning and walking back into Melanie’s townhouse.
“What in the world do you suppose that means?” I asked Aria.
“She clearly doesn’t like Zane.”
“I’m going to assume that she’s not on speaking terms with him, either. I mean, who does that?” I asked.
“I don’t know if we can fault her too much. She just lost her daughter.”
“You’re right, but there’s more to that story. A lot more. I’m not sure who we can get to talk, but I want to dig deeper.”
“That’s not surprising. I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Aria said.
I took Aria’s words as a compliment. “Now I’m even more eager to track down Zane,” I said.
“You and every other reporter and news outlet in the country. I’m not sure even you can pull that connection off.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
“Once again, I wouldn’t expect anything else. Now can we go get something to eat?”
“Yes. Food first, and then I’m tracking down a rock star.”
I just had no idea how.
6
I greeted Finn with a kiss on the cheek and sat down next to him. A tall glass of sangria was already set at my place setting.
“How was the conference?” Finn asked us.
I looked to Aria. I didn’t know how much she wanted Vince to know. Guess I was about to find out. “We sort of played hooky.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Finn said.
“What do you mean ‘hooky’? Where did you guys go?” Vince asked.
“To try on wedding dresses,” Aria quickly supplied.
I was right. She didn’t want Vince to know we were sticking our noses in the murder investigation. He might have a bad boy reputation with links to the Mafia, but he didn’t want his wife anywhere near danger.
“Really?” That got Finn’s attention. “Did you find anything you liked?”
“May-be,” I teased. I wasn’t about to reveal any of my dream dress details, especially the price.
“Did you guys set a date yet?” Vince asked.
“Not yet, but we’re getting close,” I answered.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “We are? You’re full of all sorts of surprises this afternoon.”
“Are you objecting?” I asked.
“No, not at all. In fact, I couldn’t be happier.”
“Good then. Now what did you guys do this afternoon?” I asked, deflecting the conversation. “Surely you must’ve done something brag worthy.”
Of course they had. Did Aria mention the guys were racing Lamborghinis and Ferraris around the motor speedway? It was the Supercar Experience, and I was just glad I hadn’t been a witness. Finn makes me nervous sometimes when he’s just driving around town. He’s the most distracted driver I know. Don’t tell him I said that.
We spent the rest of lunch in companionable conversation, with me making sure not to mention anything about Melanie or the murder investigation, and Finn eyeing me, knowing something was up. It was harder to keep quiet than I would have imagined.
“What’s the game plan tonight?” I asked the guys after our plates had been cleared. I had even eaten healthy by my standards—a chicken Caesar salad wrap and fries dipped in honey mustard. Remember, I said healthy by my standards.
Vince rubbed his hands together in excitement. “I wasn’t sure if my connections would come through, but I scored us four ring-side seats to tonight’s fight.” Vince accented the statement with a fake jab.
“Fight?” I looked to Finn. He knew boxing was not my thing.
“UFC Championship,” Finn supplied with excitement in his eyes.
“Awesome, honey!” Even Aria was excited about this.
“Is this a boxing match? Cage fight? What am I in store for?” And how much alcohol would I have to drink to stomach it? Watching people kick the crud out of each other made me
jumpy.
“Steele versus Volkov,” Vince said, as if their names clarified things.
“It’s going to be epic,” Finn said.
“If it’s going to be epic, I’m thinking I need to get in a nap before heading out.”
“That sounds like a pretty good plan to me too,” Finn said with his trademark eyebrow raise. Oh brother. He was going to be pretty disappointed when he found out that I really did just want to take a nap.
We parted ways with Aria and Vince and headed back to our hotel room.
“Now that I’ve got you alone,” Finn said playfully once we were back in the room. I let him wrap me into a hug. “Did you and Aria really go wedding dress shopping today?”
“Oh, that’s not where I thought you were taking this.”
“Oh, I’m taking it there. I just wanted to ask you that one question first.”
“I swear we did, scout’s honor. I even found a dress that I’m sort of in love with.” I held up my hands to stop him from asking the questions I knew he was begging to ask. “I want the dress to be a surprise. I’m finally starting to be able to visualize our wedding day.”
“I was hoping I could persuade you to head to the little white chapel tonight.”
Here’s the thing: I knew he was serious, but I couldn’t. “I would, and I mean that. Except my dad is not here. I can’t imagine walking down the aisle without him giving me away. That’s a deal breaker.”
“I’ll give you that. Your dad is a pretty cool guy.” For the record, my dad was the best. Where my mom was a perfectionist and, some would say, a bit uptight, my dad just went with the flow. After spending a lifetime with me, I don’t think I could surprise him even if I wanted to.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll let you know when I’m good and ready to say I do. First I have a project that needs a little tweaking.”
“Tweaking?”
“Yes, tweaking.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean twerking?” Finn swayed his hips side to side against mine.
“Ha, yes, I’m positive.”
It would have been too easy to prevent Finn from asking me more about this afternoon had I wanted too, but unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case.
Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2 Page 4