Shoe Done It (28 page)

“What money?”

He laughed a mirthless laugh. “We all know how much they’re worth. You read the article. Hand over the money.”

“Peter, the deal is that you give me the shoes and I keep quiet about where I got them. We don’t have that kind of money.”

“What kind do you have?” he asked.

I laughed nervously. “Oh, you know just the day’s receipts.”

“Fine,” he said. “Hand them over.”

“You’re kidding right? You wouldn’t steal Dolce’s hardearned money from her, would you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s got a big house here and I’ve got jack squat. Hand it over.”

He looked so wild-eyed and crazy I decided to play along for now. “How about I write you a check on Dolce’s account?”

“As long as it’s got a lot of zeros.”

“Sure,” I said, turning toward the office. I figured Jack would be along any minute and I could stall. No way was Peter getting away with our money. He was lucky I hadn’t thrown a fit on the spot. Instead I felt a kind of strange calm. I had things under control. Dolce was in the dressing room and Jack was on his way. Wasn’t he?

“I’ll come with you,” he said. Obviously afraid I’d call the cops from the office. Where were they? Why weren’t they here? Go slowly, I told myself.

In the tiny office I fumbled with the desk drawer handle. I pawed through the papers until I found the checkbook. All the while Peter was glaring at me. There was a bulge in his pocket. Was he armed? Was he dangerous? All of a sudden I wasn’t so calm anymore. As soon as I finished filling out the check, he snatched it out of my hand.

“You had to kill MarySue, didn’t you?” I blurted. “And take her shoes so you wouldn’t be found out.”

“You’re the clever one, aren’t you?” he said snidely. “I warned Dolce about you. You think you know fashion, but you know nothing about how it works. You think you can pick up a pair of shoes from a boutique, charge someone who can’t afford them an arm and a leg. And yet you have no idea how those shoes got there.”

“I didn’t know then, but I know now. I know that poor children are used so people like you can make money off them.”

“People like me?” His voice rose to a crescendo. “You’re just as guilty as I am, little Miss Snotnose. I know what you did. How you tried to get the shoes back. MarySue told me how you went to her house, threatened her. You’re angry because I succeeded when you failed. I got the shoes and you didn’t. I didn’t have to threaten her.”

“Then how did you do it? You killed her, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t kill her, not on purpose. I gave her a little pill, well maybe two or three or four in her champagne, just enough to put her to sleep, because she refused to turn over the shoes to me. I never meant to kill her—why would I kill the goose that laid the golden egg, so to speak? MarySue Jensen was one of my best customers. I just had to get the shoes back before someone recognized them as the ones in the magazine.”

“The
Vogue
magazine?” I asked. “Now I get it. You bought shoes made by little kids in third world countries who were paid a penny an hour. They looked good, those silver stilettos. You sold them through fancy boutiques and ateliers, and you made plenty as long as no one knew what you were up to, but you were afraid someone would recognize those shoes at the Benefit. You had to get them back.”

“And I did, no thanks to MarySue.”

I could just imagine how MarySue, who’d planned and schemed to get those shoes, would have refused to turn them over to Peter that night. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So you’re saying killing MarySue was an accident?”

“Of course. How was I supposed to know you can’t mix a few drugs with a little alcohol? These society bitches do it all the time. I thought she’d have a headache, that’s all. Now I’m outta here,” he said. “I’m stopping at the bank on my way out of town. And if there’s a problem with this check, I’ll be back.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small gun. “I know how to use it. See?”

I felt the blood rush from my head. He was going to shoot me. Now that he didn’t need me anymore. “Why?” I said, my lips too numb to say anything else.

“Why would I shoot you? Because you know too much. Because I don’t want you calling your boyfriend the cop. I thought the shoe box in your garbage would be a warning. But you didn’t get the message, did you? Now I’m leaving the country, but I need time to get to the airport.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said earnestly.

He laughed again, a high, hysterical laugh. Suddenly I heard the voice of my teacher Yen Po Wing in my ear: “Fluid and rapid movement. When in doubt, use the Northern Method.” That’s what he’d always told us. Easier said than done, of course, but I had to try. I should never have quit those classes, but who knew I’d need to defend myself from a shoe supplier? I leapt in the air and gave Peter one fluid, rapid and powerful kick in the groin. He doubled up and groaned loudly. I heard a crash, and I fell to the floor. I wondered if I’d been shot or just fainted. From the floor where I was lying faceup, I saw Dolce bravely rush toward Peter with some kind of weapon in her hand that looked like a coat hanger. At the same time Jack Wall burst into the room through the front door and ran into Peter on his way out. Jack grabbed him and twisted his arms behind him.

Dolce helped me up in time to see Jack put handcuffs on Peter.

“I heard the whole thing,” Dolce told Jack. “Peter Butinski killed MarySue. He said he didn’t mean to.”

“Thank you, Dolce,” Jack said. Then he turned to me. “You okay?”

I nodded weakly. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“I’d like you to come down to the station and give us a statement. Both of you.” He nodded at Dolce.

“Now? Tonight?” I asked. I was shaky and weak. I wanted to go home.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said. “You know where the station is.”

Dolce and I locked up after Jack took Peter away. Then we went across the street to the bar for a drink. Believe me, we needed it. No sense in facing the law without fortification first.

“You were very brave,” Dolce said to me after a few sips of her San Francisco cocktail made with two kinds of vermouth, gin and orange bitters.

“Not me. I fell down. Was that a coat hanger you were holding when you came out of the dressing room?” I asked as I reached for a deep-fried mozzarella stick on the bar.

“It was sturdy cherrywood with a trouser clamp. I could have done some damage with it. I just had to have something in my hand. I was so worried about you. So was your policeman.”

“Do you think so?” I meant to say he wasn’t mine, but it didn’t matter. “I guess we’d better go give our statements.”

Too nervous to drive, and maybe under the influence of those tasty cocktails we prudently took a cab to Jack’s station. Alone with him and a recorder in his office, I went over my actions of the day, including the scene in the bookstore.

“That’s how I knew Peter was involved, when he ripped the magazine out of my hands and bragged about what a super salesman he was, getting MarySue to order the shoes.”

“Do you still have the magazine?” Jack asked.

“Of course. It’s back in Dolce’s office. You can use it for evidence. But Peter already confessed. At least to me, and Dolce heard him from where she was hiding in the dressing room. That’s enough evidence, isn’t it?” I asked. “What is it, involuntary manslaughter?”

“Not sure yet. Not your problem,” he said. “But I will want you to testify.”

“Of course,” I said. “But not now I hope. I’m a little tired.”

“I’ll get someone to drive you and Dolce home.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he said. “You did good today.”

I smiled. A word of praise from Jack was worth a lot. I wondered if I’d get anything else, like a medal of bravery. Instead, I got a dinner invitation for Saturday night.

“Same place?” I asked.

“My place,” he said.

“You cook?” I asked. I couldn’t believe this. I’d gotten the shoes back, and a tough big-city cop had invited me to dinner. Just a thank-you meal or the start of something big? Things were looking up. Before MarySue was murdered I’d been dateless, now I had three men in my life and I was going to do what I could to keep them around. Besides Jack there was Dr. Jonathan with his primo bedside manner. I owed him big-time for all the time, energy and money he’d invested in me. I owed Nick the gymnast as well, for all he’d done for me. Besides cooking up some
zama
, he’d been willing and able to help me shape up. When MarySue was killed we lost a good client, but I’d gained a social life. That might sound heartless but I did keep my promise to her to find her killer. It was the least I could do for her. I had to hope that MarySue was okay with it and that now we were even. RIP.

FASHION TIPS FROM DOLCE

Must-Haves for Fall

PANTS—Sleek, slim and super-sexy. You can’t have too many skinny black pants in your wardrobe. Warning—Order one size down because they DO stretch. Buy several pair, wear to work or for any occasion that calls for Business Casual. Pair your skinny pants with chunky wedges or boots and you’re good to go.

COLORS—Soft neutrals and non-offensive beige are in. No more over-the-top bold colors and retro designs. Afraid you’ll be boring? Not if you mix it up with a fresh silhouette, fabrics and the new longer length.

VESTS—Now’s the time to buy a faux-fur vest. No mistaking it for the real thing, but that’s OKAY! No apologies please. Just wear and enjoy the look and the compliments coming your way. The cropped style is actually quite flattering.

SHOES—Yes, you can look fab on a budget! Mix and match budget items with high-end brands. Here’s what I love—rough boots with flowery flirty dresses or pumps with ripped boyfriend jeans.

HAIR—Bangs. A great look for fall. They work well with the teased updos and the retro makeup. Natural waves? Scrunch your bangs while damp for more texture and roughness, that’s what makes them curly. OR go natural—no straightening, no heat. Let your real texture out of the box. Bring back the bounce! “But what if my hair is straight?” you ask. Apply a leave-in conditioner while hair is damp to tame the frizz. Absolutely no wave at all? Get a cut with lots of layers. Scrunch hair while drying.

Aunt Grace’s Dating Rules

DO’s

1. It may sound boring and obvious, but do be on time. Showing up late or looking like you threw yourself together gives the impression that you don’t care. Maybe you don’t, but why bother going out with this person if that’s the case?

2. Try to enjoy yourself. This is not a root canal or a final exam. It’s a date for heaven’s sake. Yes, finding your soul mate is serious business, but dating is supposed to be fun. At least act like it is.

3. Do compliment your date on his clothes, his car and/or his choice of venue. Both men and women put a lot of effort in trying to look good and it’s good for us all to hear that all that effort has paid off.

4. Act like you’re interested and interesting. Ask questions, share your thoughts and pay attention.

5. Do not play games. If you’re not interested in seeing him again, don’t string him along. It’s selfish and isn’t good for anyone. Let him down as gently and firmly as possible.

6. Date only men you’re attracted to, no matter what your friends say. Otherwise you’re wasting his time and yours.

7. Stay positive even when you have a terrible dating experience. Mr. Right may be around the next corner.

8. Be proactive. Whether you subscribe to an online dating site or your friends are setting you up. Dating requires action, planning and activity. Get out there and meet people.

9. Surround yourself with positive, like-minded friends. Share experiences, friends and good times. Good friends will root for you to succeed at love and will be there for you when you need support.

10. Don’t give up. Stay upbeat.

DON’T’s

1. Don’t call, text or e-mail more than once a day to someone you’ve just started seeing. You’ll come across as desperate.

2. Don’t date the same kind of people you know are wrong for you. Many of us are attracted to the kind of guy who’s not good for us, but now’s the time to break the pattern.

3. Don’t be late for dates. If you have a serious conflict, let the other person know. And always apologize.

4. Don’t lie to your date unless it’s to tell him you really like his shoes when you think they’re dorky. The kind of lies I’m talking about are the ones you tell to try to impress him.

5. Don’t be too available. I don’t mean you should play games, but if you’re free every night, you need to get a life other than dating. You’ve got interests. Pursue them. You’ve got friends. Call them.