Fashion Faux Paw (20 page)

“I’ve given it a lot of thought—” she began.

“And?” Nola asked.

“And?”
Rudy echoed.

“If you really want me to look into things, then yes, I will. I only have one concern—”

“We said we’d pay you. Just name your price,” Morgan said, jumping on the statement with more than a touch of vehemence in his voice.

“Now, darling.” Nola continued to clutch his hand. “Ellie already said she wouldn’t accept our money. Don’t push her into doing something she won’t be happy doing.”

Still wearing a look of reproach, he arched a brow. “I don’t like being held for ransom, Ms. Engleman. We’ve offered you carte blanche to clear Jeffery’s name. If it’s not some type of payment that worries you, then tell us what you want.”

Ellie blew out a breath, hoping to get the discussion on a more professional level. “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, or Jeffery and his sister. It’s just that I don’t want to get your hopes up. We—I—can’t promise that things will work out the way you expect them.”

She caught Rudy’s eye and signaled him to stay quiet. “As I said yesterday, I’m not a professional detective. I’ve simply had good luck in rooting out the truth. The police don’t have to listen to me, so they could ignore whatever evidence I might find. Worse, I might be arrested for obstructing an ongoing investigation.”

Laying her free hand over her heart, Nola blinked. “Oh, my. Has that ever happened?”

Ellie had lost count of the number of times Sam and Vince or some other detective warned her about sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. “Not yet, but I’ve been threatened by a few officers, including my boyfriend. They keep reminding me that the guilty don’t approve of strangers digging into their past or their personal relationships. They don’t like the fact that I’ve ferreted out the truth when they thought they were home free. Suspects can’t avoid the cops, but they certainly don’t have to talk to me.”

“You tell ’em, Triple E. They need to know you’re takin’ our life into the danger zone.”

Ellie gave a mental ten count. Talking about the hows and whys of getting involved in murder always set her off. “Just like the police figured, Jeffery had a personal gripe against Lilah Perry. What they don’t understand, or didn’t look into, is the fact that about a dozen other people had reason to want Lilah dead. It sounds as if she irritated just about everyone she dealt with in her climb to the top of the design ladder. And the real killer won’t be happy if they find out I’m looking into things that could clear Jeffery and implicate them.”

Nola curled the hand resting over her heart into a fist. “What are you saying? Are you afraid they’ll come after you? That your life will be in danger?”

“It’s been known to happen,”
Rudy muttered.

Her boy was right, but only Rudy, Sam, and Viv knew the particulars of her run-ins with killers. “I believe this person was fixated on Lilah alone, but there’s no way to ensure they won’t try to stop me if I get too close to the truth.”

“You’re losing me with all this blather. I just need to know one thing. Will you or won’t you help Jeffery?” Morgan’s sour tone made it clear he was tired of the discussion. “And what do you want in return?”

She’d been given a lot of thank-yous from the people she’d helped out of trouble over the past year, but she never asked a for a fee or even a favor, and she wouldn’t start now.

Nola leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I have an idea. How would you like one of our designs?” She gave Ellie a cool once-over. “You look like a size twelve to me, and we have several beautiful new designs at our fingertips.”

“You’re talking about the ones that were shown here, these past few days?” asked Ellie, crossing mental fingers.

“Absolutely. Since this is our contest, we own every design, whether or not the designer wins the grand prize. Did you see anything you like?”

Before Ellie could answer, Nola snapped her fingers. “I know. What about that wonderful jumpsuit with the ginger-colored suede edging Kitty made for casual day?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Ellie said, so happy she found it hard to express her true feelings.

“Take what she’s offerin’, Triple E. That’s the outfit you said you’d buy, isn’t it?”

“Then choose another. Anything. Just name it and it’s yours,” said Nola.

“Uh, well, if you’re truly offering the jumpsuit . . .”

“Then the original is yours. If it doesn’t quite fit, it can be altered.” Nola’s perfectly outlined lips rose into a smile. “In fact, you can have any of our designs free for the next ten years if you’ll see to it Jeffery is exonerated.” She looked to her partner. “I think that’s a fair trade. Don’t you agree, darling?”

“I think it’s more than fair,” said Morgan, finally sounding more rational. After standing, he helped Nola to her feet, then held out his hand to Ellie. “So we have a deal, Ms. Engleman?”

She accepted his offer of a handshake.

“Now don’t let us keep you. I’m sure you have a lot to do,” said Nola as her partner led her away.

Hugging Rudy to her chest, Ellie waited until they were out of earshot before saying, “Things got a little hairy there for a minute. Do you think they actually understood what I told them could happen? That we might not be successful?”

“Beats me. Sometimes humans say one thing but mean somethin’ else.”
He snorted out a sneeze.
“I will tell you one thing, that Prince guy is more like a court grump, and that Nola woman borders on sickly sweet.”

“You’re right. Morgan Prince is a handful, though I don’t mind Nola’s cloying personality.” She shrugged. “At least I’ll be getting that jumpsuit out of the deal.”

He gave a snarky grin.
“Hmmph. If you ask me, it could’a went a whole lot better.”

Drawing back, she almost laughed out loud when she saw his frazzled expression. “Better how?”

“A free bag of Dingo bones a month for the next ten years would’a been just the ticket.”

Holding three leashes in one hand and four in the other, Ellie crossed mental fingers. She was supposed to meet Patti near the rear entrance to the conference hall, where she hoped the supermodel would have what they needed.

She glanced at the dogs as she led them outside, noting that most of the little guys were hungry, needed a nap, and didn’t care who was taking them home, which worked to her advantage. She wanted to give a rousing high five when she saw Patti standing a few feet away, holding up her large shoulder tote like a prize.

“I know you won’t believe it, but I have everything you asked for right inside my bag.”

Ellie gave an over-the-top bow to show Patti an exaggerated sign of respect. “I figured you were an amazing talker when you convinced NMD I could handle this job. I had complete faith you’d be able to cajole six models into giving up their addresses and apartment keys. Someday, you’ll have to tell me how you did it.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal, really.” Patti’s complexion flushed pink. “When I reminded them that their babies were probably tired and hungry, and wouldn’t want to be stuck at a boring party, they practically jumped at my offer. I knew they’d all be excited to attend a celebration given by the world-renowned Isaac Mizrahi without worrying about their dogs.” She set Cheech down and continued to talk while he watered the lawn. “You want to hear the best part?”

“Sure,” said Ellie, though she was fairly certain Patti’s ability to make a group of supermodels see things her way was a big deal by itself.

“Not a single one of them asked me why you and I were being so thoughtful instead of going to the party. Talk about self-centered.”

“See, see, what I told you? If a human as important as Patti agrees with me, it has to be true.”

“They reminded me of the cool girls in high school,” she went on. “You know, the trendsetters who wore the latest clothes and knew how to put on makeup without looking like a clown. The ones who made the cheerleading squad and dated the jocks.”

“Oh, boy, do I know,” said Ellie. “But I find it hard to believe you were like me—studying all the time, hoping to get into a good college, going single to the big dances, or just not going at all.”

They began walking north toward Broadway. “Ha! At five eleven and one hundred twenty pounds, it was a given. Add my braces and flat chest, and I bet I win the prize in this pity party.”

“Yeah, well, I had braces, too, and my hair was out of control, never mind my potato-sack figure.” Traipsing side by side, they let the dogs sniff and explore until they arrived at Madison Square Park, where they sat on a bench to regroup.

“I’m hungry. How about you?” Ellie asked. “And don’t try to placate me by saying yes, then eating crackers and a salad the size of a tapas plate. I’m buying, and I expect you to eat.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like my baby sister,” Patti groused. Scanning the surrounding area, she spotted a deli. “There’s a sandwich place across the street and they still have outdoor tables up. I’ll sit with the dogs and you can treat me to a turkey on rye, mustard, lettuce and tomato, with a Diet Coke, provided you let me bring half of it home.”

“Better yet, how about we share?” asked Ellie, leading the way to the sandwich shop. “Even though I haven’t walked my usual fifty miles this week, I still have to eat.”

Once they settled at a table, she handed Patti the leashes. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Sit tight.” Inside, she placed the order and organized her thoughts while waiting. The Mizrahi party was scheduled to last until midnight, so she and Patti had a couple of hours to organize their schedule. They’d hit the places that were closest first, dropping off dogs as they walked.

Eventually, they should be able to find a taxi driver or two kind enough—or crazy enough—to pick up women with more than a few dogs, and finish their delivery. Then they could share a cab home and call it a night.

She carried a tray to the table, divided the sandwich, and opened their drinks. Then she explained their next step.

“Here you go.” Patti passed over her notebook. “I think Dominique is nearby. So is Lawan.”

Ellie gave the addresses a good going over and copied down the buildings in visit order, hoping she had a handle on the relative proximity of the addresses. After sharing a bite of turkey with the dogs, they finished their food, tossed the trash, then headed toward Gramercy Park, which seemed to be the closest area in which a model lived. And since Sam had once lived there, she had some idea of where she was going.

They led the pack east on Twenty-third, turned right on Second Avenue, and found Dominique’s building, a brick six-story with an outside foyer and elevator.

“This is where I live,”
said Kiki, Dominique’s dog.
“And I’m glad to be home.”

“Not to worry, little girl. You’ll have your dinner and be in bed soon,” said Ellie, hoping to reassure the bitty canine. Then she saw Patti’s grin. “Uh, I’m just trying to keep her calm and relaxed.”

“Sure you are,” said the supermodel. After using the key to open the door, she held it wide. “Dominique said we’d find Kiki’s food in the fridge. I’ll drop the leashes and we can fix her dinner.” Her smile stretched across her face. “Unless you want to get down on the floor and talk to her instead.”

Too embarrassed to speak, Ellie just laughed as if she got the joke. It was one thing for Patti and her sister to hear her say sweet things to Cheech and Chong, but another to have them listen to her chatting with a strange dog as if she were actually holding a conversation. She had to watch her mouth on this foray and keep her fingers crossed that Rudy was monitoring the pack and keying in on their thoughts. Not her.

Heaving a breath, she glanced around the kitchen and found that the entire pack had disappeared. “Hey, nobody said you had free run of the place,” she shouted. “Get back here, all of you. Rudy, Cheech, come!”

“You’re doing it again,” teased Patti, digging in the fridge for Kiki’s canned food. She found what she was looking for and turned, her gaze scanning the room. With not one canine in sight, she laughed out loud. “And look how obedient those pooches are.”

Ellie headed down the hallway. Rudy had told her to snoop, but she just didn’t feel right about nosing in people’s private space, even if she was looking for clues to a murder. She’d done it a few times in the past, and Sam always seemed to know about it, which caused trouble between them. Yes, the models had given Patti their keys, and they knew she would accompany Patti in bringing their dogs home, but did that give her the right to snoop through their apartments?

Hunting for the dogs, she found two in the bathroom sniffing around the wastebasket. “Hey, you two aren’t allowed in here,” she told Muffin and Daisy.

Muffin gave a loud sniff.
“But it smells so good. There’s perfume and makeup, all the things that make Dominique beautiful.”

Ellie put hands on her hips. “That stuff makes a lot of women beautiful, and you already have the identical scents at home. Now, where’s Rudy?”

“Beats me,”
said Daisy.
“But he asked Kiki if Dominique had an office, so you’ll probably find him there.”

“Fine. You guys go to the kitchen and see what Patti is up to. I’ll be there in a minute.” She gazed at the bathroom counter and decided to take a quick look around. Opening the medicine cabinet, she found the usual array of drugs and health paraphernalia: aspirin, Midol, dental floss, a kit to whiten teeth, toothpaste, a box of condoms, a variety of off-the-shelf sleeping aids, and a few prescriptions.

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—