Fashion Faux Paw (14 page)

“His work ethic and his dedication, I think. They’re also worried about the negative publicity they’re sure will haunt NMD if he’s proven guilty—which he isn’t.”

“You’re certain?”

“As certain as I can be.” She imagined the judge tapping his chin as he thought. “At least I feel it inside.”

“And what makes them think you’re more capable than the police? Have they been talking to someone who knows about your investigative success?”

“I asked them the same question, and they admitted they’d spoken to one of their models, whose dog I walk, and I know Jeffery’s sister talked to Rob, the client I helped a few months back.”

She could almost hear the judge’s wheels turning. Then he asked, “Is there any chance you’d be in danger doing as they ask, the way you’ve been in the past?”

“I doubt it. With the other crimes there was a weapon—you know—a gun, poison, scissors—to contend with,” she told him, echoing Rudy’s logic. “I’m not allergic to anything, so I can’t imagine how I’d be hurt.”

“And you want someone to rubber-stamp your involvement in the case,” he said bluntly. “You know Detective Ryder won’t condone it, so you’ll use my permission as your cover.”

Glancing at her boy, she rolled her eyes. The man might be well into his senior years but his mind was still razor sharp. “I hate it when you read me so well, Judge Stanley.”

“Want to know how I do it?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Um, sure, clue me in.”

“Because you and I are very much alike. We hate seeing injustice done to anyone, whether we approve of them personally or not. We believe in being fair in all things. If we see a wrong, we feel the need to right it, come what may.”

“You make it sound as if I’m running for sainthood.”

“Nonsense. You’re no saint and neither am I. We merely want to see things done as fairly as possible.”

“So you think I should do what they want and look into the matter?”

“I think you will whether I say you should or not. Just be careful and stay out of harm’s way.” He cleared his throat. “Now, I have a question for you.”

Ellie gazed at the ceiling. What was one more question? Her day had been full of them. “Um, okay.”

“Actually, it’s more of a favor,” he admitted.

She loved the man like a father. She doubted she could say no to whatever he asked. “If it’s in my power, I’ll be happy to grant it.”

“It’s for your mother.” He stopped, knowing full well that she and her mother were not always in harmony. “I’d like to give her something special for her birthday. It’s coming up, you know, and she’s so difficult to buy for.”

On that topic, Ellie couldn’t agree more. “I understand. What do you want to give her?”

“A pass to the final day of the shows. Something that would allow her into all the design exhibits, plus the big contest you’re working. I called the main office and they said they were out of tickets, so I hoped you might have some pull. I’m going to give her carte blanche on the design of her choosing, and I thought the ticket could be from you. It would make a fine birthday gift from the two of us, don’t you think?”

Wow, thought Ellie. That would sure take a load off her shoulders. Finding a gift for Georgette was like finding the next new planet in the solar system. But that meant her mother would be there when she did her thing with the dogs.

“Ellie. Is it too much to ask?”

She bit her lower lip, then plowed ahead. “Of course not, Judge. I’ll find a way to get her a ticket and I’ll get it to you sometime Thursday. If you have Corinna buy a card, you can tuck the tickets inside and give them to her so she and a friend can show up first thing Friday morning, and stay for the big finale that afternoon.”

“Excellent. I don’t know how I can repay you. Just promise me one other small thing: Please don’t tell your mother we had this conversation.”

“Georgette’s holding her monthly brunch on Sunday and she expects us to be there,” said Ellie later that evening as she set a steaming plate of beef and broccoli with fried rice at Sam’s place.

He removed his shoulder holster and hung it over the back of his chair. Sitting, he raised an eyebrow and gave a cocky grin. “And you told me this when?”

She joined him at the table with her plate of shrimp, snow peas, and brown rice. “Last weekend. Sunday morning, right before you left on the Lombardi case.”

“It’s the Lombard-
o
case, and I don’t remember hearing Georgette’s name or a mention of the invitation.” He speared a chunk of beef and held it up to cool. “Are you sure?”

She glanced at Rudy and made a silent plea.
I did tell him, didn’t I?
When his answer was a doggie shrug, she said, “I know I did. You nodded, so I assumed I broke through the Dick Tracy barrier.”

“Hah! Very funny.” He scooped up another forkful of beef and broccoli, then washed it down with a swallow of beer. “Just remember, if I have a lead on a case or something important comes up, I’m off the hook with the ex-terminator,” he warned, using Viv’s favorite name to describe Ellie’s many-times-divorced mother. “How are things going with that Amber woman, by the way? Is she doing an okay job with your charges?”

Ellie dropped her fork. “Oh, crap. I forgot to call her when I got home.”

“Is that the plan? You call her and check in?”

“Kind of. She phoned me yesterday, so it was my turn for today, but something happened and I forgot.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Something happened? What kind of something?”

“For one thing, they had to choose a designer to take the place of the girl who died, and they picked my assistant. That meant I had to take care of the dogs and watch the food table and bags by myself. It wasn’t a big deal, but I did have my hands full.”

“What about the contest? Did part two go off as planned?”

“As far as I could tell, yes. Though poor Kitty was a mess. She only had one night to get her day wear outfit ready, and that was tough.” Ellie pushed a shrimp around her plate. “But the design was great. It was a cream-colored lightweight wool jumpsuit with burnt orange suede trim, and I really liked it. So much, in fact, that I’m thinking of purchasing it.”

“Hmm. That says a lot.” He narrowed his eyes, as if reading her from across the table. “If you like it that much, maybe I could buy it for you.”

Sam hated that she made more money than he did, and he tried to gloss over it by paying his half of her mortgage every month. And his buying her presents was always a sticking point. He thought he had to get her the same things Viv wanted or, heaven forbid, go along with her mother’s over-the-top suggestions for her birthday or Christmas gift.

“I’m not sure what will happen to the outfits created by the designers who don’t win the contest, but I heard NMD will own all the designs when this is through.” She topped the shrimp with rice and lifted her fork. “Even the ones created by the losers.”

His noncomment told her Sam really wasn’t interested, but she continued to talk about the contest, hoping to work her problem into the conversation. “I do have my fingers crossed for Kitty. Both of the designs she showed today were great, and she deserves to win after all that’s happened to her.”

He took another swig of beer. “What was her name again?”

“Uh—King—Kitty King.”

Sam leaned back in his chair. “Any relation to Jeffery King?”

Ready to take the plunge, she sucked in a breath. “So you heard about the arrest.”

“Word spreads quickly around the department.”

“Well, Jeffery is Kitty’s older brother and a really nice guy.” She sipped her tea, composing her words carefully. “Kitty says he’s innocent, you know.”

“What else would a sister say?” He scraped up the last of his dinner. “Word is the case is a lock, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Ellie knew better than to break a confidence. She and Sam had developed an unspoken agreement over the months they’d lived together. She kept whatever he told her private, and he didn’t toss her in a padded room when she bombarded him with questions.

“Have you talked to Detective Vaughn?”

“Not me, but Vince spent some time with him. He told me Vaughn asked some specific questions about you.”

“Me?”

Sam grinned. “Yeah, but Vince did his best to convince Vaughn you’d keep your nose clean.”

“Sounds to me like you’re toast, Triple E.”

She glared at her boy, then said, “He did, did he?”

Sam cocked his head, much like Rudy did when he was confused. That’s when it dawned on her that some of their mannerisms were identical. If only they knew . . .

“Something funny?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that Vince really shouldn’t speak for me.”

“Hold on. Is this your way of telling me you
are
going to stick your nose in this murder?”

She took another swallow of tea, hoping the warm drink would give her courage. “I planned on discussing it with you, so now is as good a time as any. I’ve been formally requested to look into . . . things.”

He sat up straight in his chair. “Formally requested? By who?”

“By Jeffery King’s employer, Nola Morgan Design. I met the owners of the company today, and they believe he’s innocent. To be honest with you, so do I.”

“Oh for—” He stood and carried their plates to the sink. “Ellie, I’m telling you now, do not get involved.” Turning, he leaned back against the counter. “Vaughn is a good detective, and he follows the rules. He won’t go easy on you if you fuck up his investigation.”

“I don’t intend to—to—do what you said,” she answered, avoiding the raw language that came out when he talked cop. “But I do think he has the wrong man. I may ask around, see if there’s anything I can find that will give Jeffery a leg up.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,”
Rudy added.

“A leg up?” Sam frowned. “I don’t think you should help him in any way. Let Vaughn do the work.”

She stood and started boxing up the leftovers. “But Jeffery is already in jail. You know what that means as well as I do.”

When he didn’t answer, Ellie gave herself a mental high five. Once the cops thought they had the killer, the investigation for fresh leads stalled. “How about if I play by our new rules. I’ll ask around and if I find anything odd or suspect, I’ll tell you about it before I try to go further by myself. You offer guidance, and look into it if you think I’m on the right track.”

“When did we make that a ‘new’ rule?” he asked, pouting like a three-year-old.

Hiding a grin, she stored the cartons in the fridge. Then she walked to him and put her arms around his neck. “We made it a rule after Rob was arrested—remember? You set up guidelines and I agreed.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I thought that was very reasonable, and now we can work it out. It’s a no-brainer, really.”

He blew out a breath, a sure sign that, this time, it was his turn to agree with her. Then he slid an arm around her and moved his hand under her sweater, where he rested his palm flat against her back. “Just promise me one thing: You won’t do anything stupid or dangerous.”

Shivers raced up her spine as his gentle touch brought her senses to attention. “There’s no way I’d be in danger with this one. Death by peanut is an off-the-wall way to kill someone, and since I don’t have any allergies . . .”

Pulling her closer, Sam nuzzled her neck. “I’d fall apart if anything happened to you.” Following the line of her jaw with his lips, he found her mouth. “Be careful, and if it looks like there might be trouble—”

His kiss made her knees weak and her heart hammer. She moaned, melting into his chest. “Sam, I—”

“Promise me, Ellie,” he said, biting her lower lip.

She nodded. “I promise.” But the words got lost when their mouths met in another mind-bending kiss.

Sam took her hand and led her down the hall. “I know it’s early, but I’m beat. You ready to call it a night?”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”
said Rudy, walking behind them. “
I need an out before we turn in.”

She crooked her arm in Sam’s, aware of how patient and quiet Rudy had been while they were talking. “I hate to tell you this, Mr. Romance, but I have a dog that needs a trip outside before we call it a night.”

He stopped at the bedroom door. “Not a problem. You get ready for bed and I’ll take the pest for a walk. How does that sound?”

“Lame.”

“Like a plan.” Ellie cupped his cheeks and drew him near. “I’ll be ready by the time you get back.” She rubbed her nose against his chin. “Just don’t be long.”

“Don’t count on it,”
Rudy muttered, following him back to the kitchen.
“I got a lot of business to do tonight.”

Ellie brought Rudy’s favorite pillow to the spare bedroom and exchanged it for one from the guest bed, which she would give to Sam. It was a habit she’d developed whenever Sam spent the night, and now that he’d moved in she continued the practice. Ever since she’d brought her boy home from the ASPCA shelter, he’d claimed the pillow next to hers, and he’d never expected that to change. But after they had a long talk, and she told him how important Sam was to her, he’d taken the move in stride.

And it really wasn’t so often they slept apart. Sam got called out at all hours several times a week, so Rudy had plenty of chances to sneak back into her room and reclaim his spot. To date, the pillow transfer was working so well, even her macho detective didn’t complain when he realized Rudy slept on his side of the mattress whenever he could.

Back in her room, she slipped her cell into the charger on her nightstand, then changed into a sleep shirt and headed for the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. According to tomorrow’s NMD timetable, she had the first few hours of the day free, which meant she could do her morning runs and check in with her regular charges.

Back in the bedroom, she phoned Amber and gave her the news. It was early enough, Amber assured her, that she could call her helpers and shift the responsibility around.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Sam’s footsteps sounded in the hall. When Rudy trotted in and put his front paws on her knees, she bent down and whispered, “That was fast. I assume you were a good boy.”