At the Drop of a Hat (22 page)

She nodded.

“I'll come with you,” Alistair said. “In case it gets unpleasant.”

I didn't like that his tone of voice indicated that he assumed it would.

Alistair knocked on the door and an officer came to lead Ariana back to her cell. I squeezed her hand as she went by.

“It's going to be okay,” I said.

She nodded at me, and I noted that her dark eyes had something in them that they hadn't when we arrived. Hope.

Alistair led us down the hall. He rapped on the open door of what I recognized as Inspector Franks's office. Inspector Franks glanced up at us and I saw his mustache twitch. I wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing, but I decided to assume it was good.

“All right, Ms. Parker, Ms. Tremont?” he said. His look was much less friendly when he glanced at Alistair. “Turner.”

“Franks,” Alistair said. He sounded about as happy to talk to the detective as the detective was with him.

Franks leaned back in his chair. He stroked his mustache with a finger while he considered us. Viv cracked like a walnut under a hammer.

“We went to Russo's office,” she said. “We know we shouldn't have but we were trying to help Ariana. We didn't find anything but it was cold out so Scarlett borrowed Ariana's jacket and she found a dry-cleaning receipt in the pocket, which had a woman's blouse listed. So Scarlett went to the dry cleaners and they said that the blouse had a coffee stain and a tear and it was the blouse Ariana was wearing the day that Russo was killed.”

Inspector Franks sat forward at this but Viv had stopped talking, having run out of air. He turned to me. I twisted my fingers together. This wasn't exactly how I had pictured this going down.

“It's true,” I said. “All of it. We just confirmed with Ariana that Russo had her blouse cleaned because he'd accidentally dumped hot coffee on her a few weeks back.”

“Did you know about this?” Franks asked Alistair.

“First I'm hearing of it,” Alistair said.

“The most interesting thing we learned from the dry cleaner was that Russo had them mend a tear in the garment. Mahasti, the seamstress, said it was right on the hem and Russo paid her quite a lot to make it perfect.”

“Can I see the garment?” Viv asked.

Inspector Franks looked at her with wide eyes. I think he had been expecting anything but that.

“I'm a milliner,” she said. “I know hand stitching and machine stitching. I'll be able to tell if the fabric found in his hand matched the repaired tear on the blouse.”

“That's what's been bothering me!” Inspector Franks pounded his fist on his desk. We all jumped and he looked sheepish. “Sorry. But that has been needling me ever since we collected Miss Jackson's blouse. There is no tear. If Russo had grabbed her when he fell, there should have been a fresh tear and we could find no sign of a quick repair if she was trying to hide something.”

Alistair stood straighter. He reminded me of a dog anticipating his ball being thrown. He was ready to chase it down.

“Will you let Ms. Tremont examine the blouse?” he asked.

Inspector Franks studied Viv for a moment and then nodded. “Follow me.”

When Alistair and I made to go with them, Franks frowned at us. “You two wait here.”

“Aw, what?” I protested.

“That's not right,” Alistair argued.

“Do either of you sew?” Franks asked.

I thought about lying but really what was the point? I couldn't even thread a needle without stabbing myself half to death—only a mild exaggeration, I assure you.

“Sit,” Franks barked.

Alistair and I both sat. Viv gave me a brave smile as she left with Inspector Franks.

“Where is he taking her?” I asked.

“Crime lab or possibly the property room and then the crime lab,” Alistair said. “Depends upon where they stored the evidence for Ariana's case.”

I stood up and began to pace. Franks's tiny office wasn't really conducive to pacing, so I awkwardly circled my chair a couple of times and then gave up and sat back down.

“About your cousin,” Alistair said. He wasn't looking at me and I sensed that he was feeling awkward.

“Vivian?” I clarified, although she is the only cousin of mine that he knew about, so really who else could he be talking about? I have a few cousins on my father's side of the family but they are all much older and I seldom saw them unless there was a wedding or a funeral to attend.

“Yes, um, is she . . .” His voice trailed off.

He looked so adorably awkward, I just wanted to ruffle his hair, but I suspected that would not be welcome. I decided to help him out a little.

“Beautiful?” I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled. “I can see that. What I was wondering was whether she is . . .”

Again his voice ebbed.

“Brilliant?” I supplied. Might as well talk the girl up, right?

“I can see that, too,” he said. Now his glance was rueful. “You know, I haven't had much opportunity to chase a woman before.”

“They all fall at your feet, do they?” I asked.

He looked a bit embarrassed and then shrugged. “Yes.”

I laughed. I liked his honesty. “But not Viv.”

“No, she has me spinning,” he said. “Much like you have Harrison turned upside down.”

That wiped the smile off my face. “No, I don't.”

“Please. I know my mate and he has never acted around a woman like he acts around you,” Alistair said.

“And how is that?” I asked.

“Like a boor,” he said.

Caught by surprise, I laughed again. “And here I thought that was his natural state of being.”

“Harrison Wentworth?” he asked. “Oh, no, he's all polish and shine until he's around you. You make him . . . real.”

I wasn't positive but I was pretty sure that was high praise. Then again, he may have just been buttering me up for information on Vivian. Mission accomplished.

“I'm sorry I've been teasing you, what did you want to know about Viv?”

“Is she not into dating or is it more that she isn't interested in dating me?” he asked.

“I don't know. I wish I could tell you more about what is going on in Viv's head,” I said. “But the truth is, I've been trying to find out about her personal life for months, but she isn't sharing.”

“Not even with you?” Alistair asked.

I shook my head. Admitting the emotional distance between Viv and me to Alistair made me feel even worse about it than I did before. Why was she shutting me out?

“I don't know if she's involved with anyone, although if she is, it must be long distance because she never goes out,” I said. “And if it's long distance, she's never on the phone either so I have no idea how it could be working.”

“Ah, maybe it is that she just isn't interested in me,” Alistair said. “It's been known to happen—not often, but it's happened.”

“I don't think that's it,” I said. I thought of the way she refused to look at him or talk to him on the phone. That wasn't someone who was immune. That was someone who was attracted and trying desperately to ignore it.

“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, do let her know that I'd be interested in taking her out,” he said.

“Done,” I promised.

“Now, what can I say to sell you on my friend Harrison?” he asked.

I felt my face get hot and I turned away with a nervous giggle, yes, an actual giggle. It was galling. Mercifully, I was spared from answering when the door opened and Viv walked in with Inspector Franks behind her.

Alistair and I both jumped to our feet. “Well?”

“Ms. Tremont has confirmed along with our forensic specialists that the fabric in Russo's hand matches a piece taken from Ms. Jackson's blouse
before
it was mended at the cleaners.”

I looked at Viv. “Explain.”

“The seamstress at the cleaners did a wonderful job using a machine to fix the hem,” Viv said. “But once I undid the stitches, the fabric in Russo's hand matched the missing piece perfectly.”

“Inspector Simms is taking the garment to the cleaners to confirm that they did the repair,” Inspector Franks said. “So there can be no suspicion that Ariana mended her blouse before we took it into evidence.”

“She couldn't have,” I said. “She was a wreck when I found her.”

“And the stitches I removed from the blouse were definitely from a professional sewing machine. There is no way they were hand stitched.”

“Brilliant!” Alistair pumped his fist and swept Viv into a crushing hug that lifted her off her feet. She laughed a very un-Viv-like guffaw. When Alistair released her, their gazes met and then he kissed her.

Inspector Franks and I stared at them and then we both looked away, studying the wall, the floor, the ceiling, repeat.

“Yes, well.” Franks cleared his throat twice.

Alistair stepped back from Viv, and I noted that they both looked bemused and a bit breathless. Huh.

“I want Ariana released,” Alistair said. He stepped away from Viv as if it took great effort on his part.

Viv turned away from all of us, seemingly to study the top of Franks's desk. It was a mess, littered with papers and old coffee cups. Honestly, the man needed a maid.

Inspector Franks held up his hands, giving Alistair the signal to slow down. “I need more than this.”

“You'll get it,” Alistair said.

It wasn't a threat, it was a promise, and I could see that Franks was okay with it.

“There's still her cell phone and the threatening texts she sent to Russo on it,” Franks said.

“She allegedly sent. Remember, her phone was missing,” Alistair argued.

“According to her,” Franks said. “It was found in her flat when we did the search.”

“But it's true that she didn't have her phone,” I said. “She didn't answer our calls for a couple of days, which was why I went to see her.”

Franks looked at me and rubbed his mustache. I gave him a closed-lip smile, you know, the one that says I'm just trying to help. Yeah, he didn't look overly grateful.

“Ms. Tremont, thank you for your help,” Inspector Franks said to Viv. He didn't acknowledge Alistair or me, and it was clear we were being dismissed.

Alistair led us out the door. In the hallway, he paused. He looked at Viv, who did not meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry about just now,” he said. “I got carried away.”

He was so charmingly awkward, I was beginning to wonder if Viv was made out of stone, but then I remembered her face after he'd kissed her. No, not stone.

“It's fine,” she said. “We're all a bit emotional.”

“All right then,” he said. “I'm going to see Ariana and tell her what's happening. I expect she could use some good news. I'll . . . be in touch.”

We watched as he walked down the hall. Viv looked like she wanted to call after him, but she didn't. Instead, she turned and headed for the nearest exit. As soon as we stepped outside, I opened my mouth to grill her about the kiss. Particularly, was it as amazing as it had looked?

She held up her hand, shutting me down. “Not one word, Scarlett. Not one.”

It was another very long and quiet journey back to the shop.

*   *   *

When we arrived, we found Harrison waiting for us. He and Fee were at the counter of the shop, looking over one of her homework assignments for her small business class. Harrison had been helping her with her studies, which I had to admit was very nice of him.

He took one look at Viv's face and asked, “What happened?”

I opened my mouth to answer but Viv interrupted, “Nothing!”

I looked at her like she was crazy, not unwarranted, and she made bug eyes at me that clearly said she would kick my behind if I breathed a word of what happened with Alistair and her. See, being cousins, I can register an unspoken threat especially when she makes the crazy face.

“Viv figured out that the fabric found in Russo's hand matches a piece from Ariana's blouse,” I said.

“But you already knew that, yeah?” Fee asked.

“Yes, but Viv looked at the blouse in the crime lab and the piece in Russo's hand was from before Ariana's blouse was mended at the cleaners,” I said.

Fee frowned and then shook her head. “I'm not following.”

“Ariana is being framed,” Harrison said.

“Exactly,” Viv said. She looked at Fee. “Someone put a piece of Ariana's blouse into Russo's hand either before or after he died, but he most definitely did not get it from snatching at her before he fell.”

“So the only thing tying Ariana to his death now is the photograph and the nasty texts that came from her phone,” I said. “We need to know who sent the picture and who had her phone.”

“They found the phone in her flat when they searched it, so it has to be someone who was there the day Russo was killed,” Viv said.

“Alistair had the police check the security cameras for her building for the days that her phone was missing,” Harrison said. “Her building is large enough and with a young enough residency that there are all sorts of people coming and going at all hours day and night. They are trying to identify over thirty nonresident visitors to see if there is anyone with a motive to kill Russo and frame Ariana.”

“I want to visit the roof of Russo's building,” I said.

All three of them looked at me.

“I got lucky last time, maybe I'll get lucky again. Can you manage here?”

“Like you're giving me a choice,” Viv said.

“Do you want to come with me?” I asked.

Viv shook her head. “No, I need to work.”

I knew she meant that she needed to work like she needed to breathe. It was that much a part of her and I suspected it was the only thing that was going to help her level out after Alistair's unexpected display of affection.

“I'll go with you,” Harrison said.

“What about me?” Fee asked. “I never get to go anywhere.”

“And not today either,” Viv said. “We've got to finish the hats for Philippe's fashion show. I promised him.”

Fee sighed and waved her hand at us. “You're right. Carry on, detectives, without little old me.”

Harrison looked at me and gestured to the door. “After you.”

We left the shop and I could feel Harrison studying me as we walked. He waited until we were off Portobello Road and entering Notting Hill Gate before he said, “So what aren't you telling me, Ginger?”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was frowning.

“I don't know what you mean,” I said.

“Please, I saw the look Viv gave you,” he said. “It was reflected in one of the shop's many mirrors.”

We went through the turnstile and hurried to our platform. The wind in the tunnel and the crush of bodies as everyone headed to their train made it hard to hear. I took it as a reprieve while I tried to figure out what to say.

Once on the train, Harrison and I snagged two seats in a middle car. I could feel him watching me. Finally, I threw up my hands.

“What?” I demanded.

“You know what,” he said. “What else happened at the police station?”

“Ask Alistair,” I said. There. That was lobbing the problem off nice and neat.

“So it has something to do with Alistair and Viv?” he asked.

“You're worse than a gossipy old woman,” I snapped. “Quit trying to get me to say something.”

“I can't,” he said. “Alistair won't say anything because he's a guy, and Viv looked like she'd rip my head off, so that leaves you.”

“You're out of luck, Harry,” I said. “These lips are sealed.”

That was a poor choice of words as it made his gaze move to my mouth, which made me loosen my grip on my handrail. The train jolted forward and I fell against him. He smiled at me. It was a dangerous smile, the sort a lion gives an antelope right before he takes it down.

“Harrison,” he corrected me.

We were entirely too close for comfort. I pushed off him before I did something dumb like kiss him the way Alistair had kissed Viv, because that most definitely would not do.

Mercifully, the train pulled into our stop and I shot out of my seat and out the door, nearly taking an older couple out with me on the way. Healthy boundaries must be maintained.

We didn't speak on the walk to Russo's office, and the one time I glanced at Harrison, I caught him looking at me. There was so much sizzle in the air between us, you'd think bacon was frying. Yowzers.

I led the way through the back gate into Russo's yard. It was quiet. No police or reporters at large. I glanced at the spot where Russo's body had been found. Unlike the night Viv and I had come here, it was daylight now and I could see the dark stains, bloodstains, where his body had been found broken beyond repair.

I glanced from the cobblestones up to the roof. It was a long drop onto the hard ground. I tried to remember Russo's face. Had his expression been scared or angry or surprised? I couldn't remember. Honestly, I hadn't looked too closely at his face. What I did remember was the smell of death, and the quiet stillness that shrouded his lifeless body.

“All right, Ginger?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah,” I lied. “I'm good.”

I led the way to the keypad, where I tapped in the code. The door clicked and we entered the house. It was dark and beginning to smell musty from being shut up.

Harrison took in our surroundings as I led the way to the stairs. We went up all the way to the top floor. After checking several doors, I found the one that led to the roof. Before it shut, I checked to make sure it didn't lock behind us. I didn't like the idea of being trapped on the roof where a man had been pushed to his death.

Harrison walked the perimeter of the roof. It was a flat roof with a slight tilt toward gutters along the edge to drain the rainwater. A short brick railing ran around the top of it. It was untidy, with a couple of broken chairs and a wobbly table. There was a weather-beaten shed, and some old soggy cigarette butts floating in a can full of rainwater.

“You don't suppose someone was living up here and Russo surprised them, do you?” I asked.

“No, the security cameras would have picked that up,” Harrison said.

He wandered over to the ledge where Russo had fallen. It was the only spot of the roof without camera coverage. That had bothered me from the very beginning. The railing was knee high and it made my hands sweat to stand too close to it. I didn't like the way Harrison was leaning over it. One slight push and he would topple to his death just like Russo.

“Back up, Harry,” I said. “You're making me nervous.”

He turned and grinned at me. His green eyes were full of mischief as he pretended to lose his balance and start to fall. I grabbed him by the jacket and yanked him to safety.

“Nice catch,” he said. We were just inches apart and his arms slid around me as naturally as if we were a couple.

“You could have fallen,” I said. Good grief, I sounded like someone's mother. Oh, horror.

“But I didn't,” he said.

“Well, Russo did, and I'd rather not repeat that,” I said.

“Why, Ginger, I didn't know you cared so much.”

He was teasing me. I could see it in the twinkle in his green eyes. He was too charming for my well-being and I stepped away from him. Of course I cared. He was my friend.

I thought about Russo. As far as I could tell, he had no friends. No one seemed to mourn his loss. How sad.

I walked around Harrison to the ledge. As I leaned over it, I felt him grab the back of my jacket. Ah, so he wasn't so calm when someone else stood by the edge.

I glanced down. I couldn't see the dark stains on the cobblestones from this high up. Still, it was a sheer drop and I felt that loopy feeling of vertigo and was glad Harrison had my jacket, because I also felt a weird desire to jump. I stepped back.

“What's wrong?” Harrison asked. He looked concerned and I knew he could see how rattled I felt.

“When you were looking over the edge, did you have a sudden urge to jump?” I asked.

“No,” he said. Now he was frowning. “Did you?”

“Just for a second,” I said. He gave me a horrified look. “What? It was just a weird psychological urge, but it made me wonder . . .”

“Yes?”

“Why do we think Russo was pushed off the roof?”

“Because he was a horrible human being with lots of enemies,” Harrison said.

“But what if he wasn't?” I asked.

“Wasn't horrible? I'd say he clearly was.”

“No, what if he wasn't pushed? What if he jumped?” I asked.