Fashion Faux Paw (22 page)

“And she won’t. But where does that put Lawan on the list? Threats alone won’t convince anyone she was the killer, especially the threats a Chihuahua overheard. And I doubt her using the photo for a dartboard would go over any better.”

“So let’s make her a maybe. Who’s next?”

“Kate and Baby. That was some apartment, wasn’t it? Almost as terrific as Patti and Janice’s.”

“Isn’t she one of them famous plus-sized humans?”

“That she is, as if you couldn’t tell by all the magazine articles and pictures she had framed on her walls. The apartment was like her own personal walk of fame. Who knew being a size twelve could be such a ticket to the high life.”

He gave a doggie snort.
“I bet you could be one of ’em, if you wanted.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to her boy to see only the best in his mistress. “You are too sweet. I could never be like Kate. First of all, parading around in my underwear in front of a crowd of reporters, photographers, and fashionistas isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“You could get used to it.”

“And all that fussy makeup and humongous hair?”

“You’d get used to that, too.”

“
Never, plus I don’t take that great a photo.”

“But Marcus said he wanted you for his model.”

“Marcus David was blowing smoke, trying to earn points because for some reason he wants to get into my—my—well, you know what I mean.”

“Sure he does. The testosterone leaks offa him whenever he gets near
you.
It’s almost as bad as the pheromones Detective Demento reeks. And all I can say is ee-uuuw!”

“I don’t need any more of your commentary on testosterone, no matter who’s involved. And Kate didn’t have a thing in her apartment that would make me think she cared a fig about Lilah Perry.”

“Neither did that Crystal babe. Probably ’cause they’re both too big to need Lilah for anything. That’s why she never bothered Patti, either.”

“Patti is smart. She avoided Lilah at all costs, and made sure they never got into any type of disagreement.”

“But she’s really diggin’ her heels in on this one. Goin’ all out to help get Jeffery off the hook.”

“I know, and I find that amazing. In the two years we’ve walked her dog, I never once heard her go loopy over a guy. I just hope Mr. King appreciates it.”

“So we went through all the keys we had, but there’s more suspects.”

“Clark Fettel, for one.” She moved to the next page. “And Karen Hood, and Anton Rouch. And Yasmine didn’t go to the party, so we couldn’t get her key. I wasn’t aware she had a beef against Lilah, but the way things are going there was probably some kind of bad blood between them.”

“Don’t forget that testosterone guy, Marcus.”

“Marcus? Really?”

“Just because he has the hots for you don’t mean he can’t be a killer. And remember what Patti said about his sister.”

Ellie did remember, because Marcus mentioned it, too. But what would his dead sister have to do with Lilah? “I realize that. I just don’t know how to go about getting the skinny on him, or Clark, or Yasmine.”

“You’ll have to figure Fiddle-faddle and Yasmine out on your own, but I’m sure we could get into Marcus’s place.”
He gave a doggie grin.
“If you were available next time he asked you out.”

“You are incorrigible. People have a name for a woman who leads a man on, and it isn’t very nice.”

“So who cares? It’d just be for one night. You wouldn’t even have to swap spit. Just drop by and say you were in the neighborhood. Get him to ask you in, tell him you need to pee, and bingo, you’re in position to check out his bathroom, find an EpiPen or peanut oil.”

“And when do you propose I do this bit of skullduggery?”

“Whoa, now there’s a word. Skull-whatery?”

“I think it means the kind of activity one does on the side when they want to get information. Sort of sneaky.”

“Good call, because you’d definitely need to be sneaky. Didn’t he say there’d be lots of pictures and magazine stuff goin’ on tomorrow night, when they announce the contest winner? Why couldn’t you hang around and see what that’s all about? Then get him to invite you to his place . . . or somethin’.”

“Hmm. There is supposed to be a celebration for the winner, and the losers are supposed to hang around for photos, too.”

“And you could offer to lend a hand watchin’ the dogs while the models are gettin’ their pictures taken.”

“I guess maybe I could. It does seem reasonable.”

“It might even help you get on Fiddle-faddle’s good side. He thinks you got paid too much for the job you’re doin’, so you’d be makin’ up for it by offerin’ a freebie dog-sit.”

She finished her tea while she thought about Rudy’s suggestion. No doubt about it, her boy could probably sell igloos to Eskimos if the need ever arose. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

“So find out now. Call Patti. I bet she can give you an opinion. Or maybe Kitty would let you know. You could say you’re callin’ about her brother, then bring up the big win party and ask if anyone would mind.”

“The only people whose opinions count would be Clark, or Nola and Morgan. It’s their party, but I don’t have any of their numbers.”

“Patti might.”

She checked the time on her microwave. “I guess I could give her a call.” She shrugged, then took her phone from her tote bag and dialed her number. “Hey, Patti, it’s me,” she said, trying to sound perky instead of ready for bed. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you, anything.”

After going over her thoughts on the party, she asked Patti for the phone numbers, but had no success. “I’m just an NMD contract worker, so I don’t have their numbers, but I do have Jeffery’s.”

“You do?”

“Sure. It’s on my contract as the contact. The office number is printed, but he wrote what he said was his ‘private’ line under it. Do you want that?”

“Do you think he could give me approval for staying at the party?”

“I don’t see why not. He’s still an NMD employee and he was the chief contact until he was arrested. He also knows you’re working to set him free.”

“Okay, then, give me the number and I’ll make the call.”

“Don’t forget, you should probably check and make sure Julie got the ex-terminator her tickets.”

After taking Jeffery’s number from Patti, she disconnected and frowned. “Oh, great. You’re right. I should check. But if I’m lucky I’ll get the judge.”

“And Amber. Did you call and ask her how the gang was doin’?”

“With all the snooping, I forgot.”

“And Detective Doofus. ’Cause I wanna know if I can sleep in our bed, or is he comin’ home to kick me out?”

Ellie heaved a sigh. At this rate, she’d never get to sleep, but she made every call.

The next morning, the sound of Ellie’s cell phone buzzing on its nightstand charger woke her. Groaning, she rolled to the right and checked the number. It was her mother, of course. Who else would be up at the crack of dawn and pestering her?

“Good morning, Mother.”

“Thank goodness you answered,” said Georgette, her tone desperate. “I need to ask you—no, no—first I have to thank you for the tickets. The judge gave them to me this morning, and I’m speechless.”

If you’re speechless, why are you calling me? was Ellie’s first response, and the one she kept to herself. “Your birthday is tomorrow, and it was something I could do. You aren’t the easiest person to buy for, you know.”

“Oh, pooh. You say that all the time, yet you still manage to surprise me with delightful gifts.”

Ellie swung her legs over the side of the mattress and sat up. From the sound of it, this was not going to be a quick discussion. “So what’s your question?”

“Well, first off, I need a bit of guidance. What should I wear today?”

“Wear? Today?” Georgette had to be kidding. She had a closet as big as Ellie’s guest bedroom and it was filled with clothes. “Mom, you do realize this is me, your daughter, right? The girl who buys off-the-rack.”

“I know it’s you, darling. And you’ve been at Fashion Week for the past four days. Surely you’ve had a chance to scope things out and take note of what the audience members are wearing.”

“You know I don’t pay attention to that kind of thing. Clothes are clothes. They should be clean and comfortable and bear a close resemblance to what’s what in the twenty-first century. Tan and gray don’t go together, and neither do brown and black. After that, anything goes.”

“But what about the designers? Who’s most popular right now?”

“Isaac Mizrahi had his showing yesterday, along with a big party and he—”

“You went to a party given by Isaac Mizrahi?”

Ellie imagined her mother sitting with her hand over her heart, as if she was having palpitations. “I didn’t go, Mom, but you could call Patti Fallgrave. She’s my supermodel client, and she wasn’t there either, but she can tell you what to wear.”

“I know her name. She was on last month’s cover of
Vogue.
You walk her dog.”

“That’s her, and here’s her number.” She repeated it slowly twice. “And don’t nag her, just do what she says.”

“I have a list of what I own by whom, and I’ll let her tell me which designer to wear. How does that sound?”

After yawning, Ellie said, “Sounds great. Now I have to run and get ready.”

“Will we see you today? Stanley and I were so hoping we would.”

“I’m on canine patrol, but I’ll be peeking out from behind the wings during the Nola Morgan contest. If you see me, wave, and I’ll wave back.”

She set the phone in its cradle and it buzzed again. Heaving another sigh, she answered. “Hello.”

“Hey, when are you leaving? Can T and I share a cab with you? It’ll be my treat as a thank-you for giving me the ticket,” said Viv.

“I don’t think you should bring Mr. T.” Ellie glanced at her boy, curled on his pillow next to her head. “There are too many dogs onsite as it is.”

“Well, crap.” Viv breathed a sigh of her own. “Okay, I’ll walk him, and maybe Amber can do him at noon. Will that be okay?”

“Fine by me. I have to call her anyway, so I’ll remind her. Oh, and do me a favor, please.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Call the ex—I mean Georgette—and tell her you’re willing to give her some help choosing an outfit for today.” Patti and Janice were late risers, and she knew Patti didn’t have an assignment until the middle of the morning. If she didn’t answer Georgette’s call, Ellie would be back to sparring with her mother, and she had no time for more mother-wrangling this morning. “She’ll appreciate it, and so will I.”

“You want me to talk to the ex-terminator?”

Thanks to Georgette’s four divorces, Viv never could call her mother by her real name. “Yes, phone Georgette. She’ll be agreeable, believe me.”

Ellie again set her phone in the charger. Then she concentrated on Rudy, sitting on his pillow like a sultan on his throne. That meant Sam hadn’t come home. Which wasn’t that odd, though he usually let her know he was working. If only he’d returned her call from last night.

“Are you ready to start your day?”

“This early?”
He stretched his legs out in front of him, then flopped to his back and wriggled. Flipping around, he shook from head to tail, then jumped to the floor. “Okay, I’m all set. I just need a breakfast nibble to get started.”

“Give me a minute. I have to find something that’s comfortable for today but won’t make me look like an outcast at the party.”

She opened her closet door and focused. She had black wool slacks and a white silk blouse. If she wore that with a pale yellow cashmere pullover sweater, she might be able to get by.

She pulled everything out and, holding the sweater and slacks up to her front, turned. “Will this do?”

Rudy gave her his Buddhalike stare.

“Make sure you put on a little bling. Use that necklace with the single diamond that the defective detective gave you for Christmas.”

“Got it, and I think I’ll actually wear a little makeup. That ought to do the trick.”

“Don’t forget the hair. Put that gel stuff in it that makes the curls shiny.”

“Okay, that too. I’ll give you your morning nibble, then shower and dress. Half an hour and we’re out of here.”

Chapter 12

Ellie, Rudy, and Vivian climbed out of the cab and headed for their usual entrance, the rear door of the Fashion Center.

“You could go in through the front, you know,” Ellie said to her best human friend. Viv wore an elegant long-sleeved wool dress the color of paprika. Smart and sexy, it showed off her mile-long legs and black, strappy Beverly Feldman shoes. “You have a ticket, so you’re legal. And you certainly look like you belong inside.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s just eight thirty. Are they open to the public yet?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure but you might be right.” Ellie led the way, let Rudy water the small patch of lawn next to the walkway, and opened the door. Inside, chaos reigned. The caterers had added an extra table to the original they’d been using for the snack service and were piling it high with more substantial goodies. The dog pen was stationed closer in, so people had a broader walkway on the far side of the area, and the setup crew had squeezed two more chairs into the normal row.