Fashion Faux Paw (27 page)

“How tough will that be for you?”

“To wait? Not as difficult as waiting to hear some good news about my brother.”

“Then I guess I’d better get going, huh?”

Kitty grasped Ellie’s hand and squeezed. “I know you’ll give it your best effort. I’m counting on you.”

With her mind churning on how to give Vaughn the information she’d amassed, Ellie headed for Marcus’s workstation. His table was a good distance from Kitty’s, which made perfect sense. If the contestants were separated, there’d be less complaints of plagiarizing a design. She’d paid attention to the fashion gossip, and knew that even fabric and color played a part in a designer’s art. If someone took the same “look” as another artist, they were written off as untrustworthy and unprofessional.

She spotted Marcus from a distance, bent over his table, and was again impressed by his lanky-yet-muscular build. Today’s apparel consisted of bright white high-tops, worn jeans that hugged his class-A butt, and a pale yellow shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looked, as usual, like a man comfortable in his own skin.

Nearing the table, she saw that his area was laid out exactly like Kitty’s, only a bit more disorderly. And he too was working on a canine creation, a dapper, bright red coat that was strapped under and around the belly of Lucy, the new model’s dog.

Not wanting to surprise him, she stepped to his side and placed her hands on the tabletop, silently announcing her presence.

Marcus finished a last knot on the design and turned to face her, his expression confident. “Are you here to wish me good luck?”

“Of course.”

He arched an eyebrow. “But you want Kitty to win.”

“How can I not? She was my first assistant, and I grew to think of her as a friend.” Ellie raised a shoulder. “Now that her brother has been wrongly accused of murder, I can’t help but be on her side.”

“It sounds to me as if you’re positive Jeffery King is innocent,” he said, cocking a hip against the table.

Unsure of how much to reveal to a would-be suspect, she waited a moment before answering. “Let’s just say I’ve uncovered enough evidence against a few others to give his attorney a decent line of defense.”

“Good for Jeffery, then.” He grinned. “I never asked, but I’ve been wondering, what do you think of my designs?”

Ellie gazed at Lucy. “Hmm, I’m not sure I’d look good in that much red.”

Marcus crossed his arms and nodded toward two designs on dummy models propped along the back wall of his station. Black coats with stand-up collars and red toggle buttons were draped over what appeared to be red and black checked dresses in a figure-skimming style.

“That’s the people-wear, and red is only an accent. I thought I’d work the canine coats in the opposite direction, red topside with an accent of black toggles.”

“Very clever,” said Ellie, and she meant it. “Your human coat is practical, yet stylish. I’d wear it.”

“That’s good to know. I just hope the NMD people agree with you.” He began disrobing Lucy. “This little girl is all set, so, if you like, you can bring her back to the pen for me. Unless you’re on some kind of scouting mission?”

“I’m visiting all the designers,” she told him, which was true. She hated being so secretive, but how much could she tell him? “I haven’t had much experience watching creative geniuses at work.”

“Creative geniuses?” His grin broadened. “Thanks for the compliment. It’s important, coming from you.”

Inhaling fresh air in hope of preventing a blush, she said, “Just remember, I’m a nobody in this contest. No one has asked for my vote, let alone my opinion.”

“But if they did?”

“I’d have to think about it.”

“Now there’s a decisive answer.”

“Ru-Rudy?” she sputtered, jumping when she heard his voice. She reached down and rubbed his ears. What was the little stinker doing here?

“Who else were you expectin’?”

“I noticed your little guy right away,” said Marcus when she stood. “I thought you knew he was tagging along.”

“I guess I sort of forgot about him,” Ellie lied. Last she knew, her boy was in the pen back at the food tables. And she hadn’t given him permission to leave Julie’s care. “He’s quiet that way.”

“Home base got boring. I figured you had to be doin’ somethin’ more interesting.”

She gave a mental ten count, careful to keep her thoughts to herself. “He likes being where the action is.”

“I can tell from the twinkle in his eyes,” said Marcus.

“See that. I twinkle.”

“That twinkle sometimes means trouble,” she explained to the human in the three-way conversation. “He likes sticking his snout where it doesn’t belong.”

“I like stickin’ my snout where it doesn’t belong?”
he asked with innocence.
“What about you?”

“Sometimes he’s such a pain, I forget what I’m doing.” She gave her pal a pointed look, determined to get back on track with Marcus. “Julie told me something earlier, something personal about you, and I wanted to get the story straight from the source. It’s about your—”

“My baby sister, Sylvie.”

“I’m sorry, but yes. Is it too painful for you to talk about?”

His lips thinned. “What do you think?”

“I know how bad it can be to lose a loved one. I was fifteen when my dad died, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. In a way, that moment shaped the rest of my life.”

Her father had loved dogs, even though her mother didn’t. He’d encouraged her to get a fuzzy four-legged pal when she was out of the house and on her own. Then he promised to visit her, so the three of them could take long walks together.

“My dad was crazy about dogs, but my mom wasn’t, and she ruled the roost, er, the kennel. It was one of the few things my parents didn’t agree on, so my father caved and Georgette, that’s my mother, got her way.”

His eyes closed for a long moment. “My two middle sisters, Samantha and Sydney, always did their own thing, but Sylvie looked to me for advice and guidance. I was her big brother, her protector, her rock. There was only one thing we didn’t see eye to eye on, and that was her dream to become a fashion model.”

“I know there are quite a few rules for being a hit in this industry: height, weight, lots of good hair, classic bone structure, and the ability to work with the camera. Did she have those traits?”

“She was tall enough and her hair was fine. Bone structure, too, but she never got thin enough to look good in front of the camera. She could have had a career as a plus-sized runway model, but she wanted more, and for some reason she thought I could get it for her. The other designers trusted me to make her understand . . . all of them but Lilah, that is.”

Ellie hoped that, if she didn’t push, Marcus would reveal something insightful. “And she gave your sister a hard time?”

He clenched his jaw and his fingers followed suit. “A hard time is putting it mildly. With Lilah, it was always over the top. If she found someone’s weak spot, she used it to make them squirm. Just ask Clark Fettel or Anton Rouch.”

“Did she tease you about Sylvie?”

“Me? Never. But she did get on Sylvie’s case, and she did it on purpose.” He relaxed his fingers. “The poor kid had a heart problem, but she begged me not to tell anyone. She didn’t want pity, she wanted to make it on her own.”

“Do you think if Lilah knew about the heart thing she might have gone easier on your sister?”

Marcus shrugged. “Beats me. Besides, it’s useless to talk about it now.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and released a sigh. “It’s all useless. Lilah got what she deserved, and if I knew for certain who killed her I’d send them a dozen roses as a thank-you.”

“He doesn’t sound like a murderer to me, Triple E.”

Ellie squatted and pretended to adjust her boy’s collar. “I know, but we have to keep our emotions out of it,” she whispered. “Just because he doesn’t
sound
like a killer doesn’t mean he isn’t one, er, is one, er, well, you know what I mean. Now please be quiet and let me do my job.”

“Talking to your dog again?” Marcus asked when she stood. “You do know that’s one of the things I like about you?”

“You might think it’s a good trait, but not everyone agrees. Clark Fettel thinks I’m a nutcase whenever he sees me do it, and so does Fiona Ray. And I bet there are a whole lot more folks who think I’m a flake.”

“But not Nola or Morgan, and they’re the people who count. If they thought you were a flake, they never would have asked you to prove Jeffery King innocent. I’d say that’s a plus in this business.”

“I guess,” Ellie said. “And I’m grateful for their support. I just hope I can do what they expect.”

“So how is the investigation coming along? Do you actually have proof that someone besides Jeffery could have killed Lilah?”

“I do. The difficult thing will be getting Detective Vaughn to listen to me.”

“I thought you lived with a homicide detective.”

“But he’s not working this case. In this city, the cops don’t step on each other’s toes.” She’d heard the rules from Sam often enough to remember them. “They only help with a case if they’re asked or if they find something they think will benefit another cop. And my guy’s been working on something that’s kept him out of the house for most of the week.”

“So you have yet to ask him about accompanying you to the big celebration party at Nola and Morgan’s tomorrow night?”

Fancy parties were the last thing Sam wanted to attend. He was so antisocial, she had to work for weeks to get him to agree to show his face at one of Georgette’s Sunday brunches. She had no intention of asking him to the NMD celebration. “With all the time he’s putting in, I don’t think he’ll be able to come with me.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” said Marcus, giving her a sly grin.

Another rush of warmth crept up her neck again, and she cursed herself for being a redhead. “Oh, you mean the date thing . . . with you.”

Still smiling, he nodded. “Yes, with me. So how about it?”

“How about going to the party with you?”

He took a step toward her, closing the distance. “Stop playing coy. Yes, with me.”

“I’m not—I mean I don’t know how to play coy.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Then say yes. We can go as friends, remember.”

Tired of battling him, she heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine. As friends.”

He took a second step and she caught the scent of his cologne, woodsy and fresh as the great outdoors. “Then you’ll be my date for the party?”

“I’ll be your
platonic
date for the party.”

“Great. I’ll need your address.”

“My address?”

“So I can pick you up.”

“Pick me up?”

“Oy!”

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman. If I make a date with a woman, I pick her up and I bring her home.”

“Sounds like you’ll have to confess to the defective detective that you’re cheatin’ on him.”

“I would never cheat on Sam,” she ground out.

“If this date is platonic, you won’t be cheating. Now how about giving me your address?”

“Okay. I’ll write it on the back of a business card and you can pick it up when you retrieve Lucy and Cheech. How does that sound?”

“Like a plan.”

He took another step forward and she ducked back, but before she could speak, Patti appeared behind him. “Patti, hello.”

“Hey, you two.” Patti’s hazel eyes sparked with interest. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” said Marcus, his handsome face fixed in a smile. “And you’ll be the first to know. Ms. Engleman just said yes. She’s going to the big party with me tomorrow night.”

“Is she now? That’s great.”

“Glad you think so,” said Ellie. She held out her arms and Lucy jumped into them. “I’m going to bring this little girl back to my pen, er, space,” she stuttered. “I need some time to think.” She tossed Marcus a wave. “See you later?”

“How about if I walk with you?” asked the supermodel. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Ellie only hoped it wasn’t a discussion over Marcus. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this flustered about a simple get-together with a man. She threaded her way through the crowd with Lucy in her arms, Patti by her side, and Rudy at her feet. “Don’t you have someplace special to be?”

“My place is with you,”
her boy said.

“Who, me?” asked Patti. “Nope. Except for the big finale this afternoon, I’m through for the week.”

“I’m through, too.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. She was getting tired of stumbling through these three-way conversations. “Do you want to help Julie and me with the dogs for a short while?”

“I might, as long as the work isn’t too complicated. I’m not a groomer, and since Cheech is almost hairless—”

“And brainless,”
Rudy gruffed.

“I don’t really have much to do in the way of neatening him up.”

“I’m not a groomer, either—”

“You can say that again.”

Ellie tapped Rudy with the toe of her shoe. “But I do think we should brush them and make sure they’re neat.”

“I can manage that,” said Patti. “But I would like your advice, if you have a minute.”

They plowed past Fiona Ray’s station, and it was then the supermodel put her hand on Ellie’s forearm, causing her to slow down until they arrived at Anton Rouch’s area. The designer was so involved in fitting his newest creation on Lawan, he didn’t even acknowledge their presence.

“Take it easy,” Patti whispered when they ducked behind his screen. “You’re giving me a workout.”

“Sorry,” said Ellie, keeping her voice low. “It’s just that I’m trying to process all the info I learned today, and it’s a lot to swallow.”

“Does any of it have to do with Anton or Fiona?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Just asking because we’re here, and I don’t want Anton to think we’re talking about him.” Patti blew out a breath. “He’s a bit sensitive when it comes to his work.”

“I heard about his OCD and Lilah’s nasty habit of torturing him, but he isn’t at the top of my list of suspects. Now that we’ve stopped, what did you want to tell me?”