Fashion Faux Paw (6 page)

But she moaned internally when she arrived in the work area of the show. So much for hoping people would be pondering the tragedy, mourning for Lilah, or worrying if any of them would be a victim as well. This group had lost one of its own under shocking circumstances, yet people raced the floor pushing clothing racks, carrying mounds of shoe boxes, and setting up makeup and hairstyling stations as if nothing had happened.

She just missed getting whacked by a rolling rack, darted out of the way of a woman toting an armful of fabric, and blew out a breath when three girls, carrying trays of coffee in each hand, jostled past her. Nothing was toned down or softened. The place was downright dangerous, and the pace was still frantic.

“Do you think these guys know they’re hangin’ tight with a murderer?”
Rudy asked as he scuttled closer to her ankle.

“Detective Vaughn wasn’t exactly secretive when his team commandeered everyone and asked questions. If Marcus David heard rumors, I’m sure everybody else did, too. And I’m positive word of Lilah’s death made the newspapers. Although I was in such a rush this morning I forgot to check.”

She jumped to the side and pulled Rudy with her to avoid another garment rack collision. “Excuse me,” she muttered when the person passed, head down and pushing determinedly, without one word of warning.

“These humans need better manners.”

Ellie tugged her boy to an empty makeup station and squatted. “We’ll talk about good manners some other time. For now, just stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”

Regrouping, they walked by a girl sitting patiently while a striking man, his hair gelled in a bright red Mohawk, transformed her into a dark and dramatic beauty. Just past that, two pencil-thin girls of no more than sixteen stood on round podiums in nothing but silk bikini bottoms while designers draped them in fabric. Vivian had told her about young girls, children really, who were making it big in the fashion industry, and these scenes supported Viv’s view.

“I thought humans were supposed to wear clothes in public,”
Rudy said, his tone a snigger.

Ellie cleared her throat. “We are, but this is the fashion world. The way I understand it, the body is nothing more than a hanger with a heartbeat, made to show off designer creations. Since they think they’re behind the scenes right now, it’s private to them. Public is when they’re out on the catwalk.”

“Those kids should be runnin’ on a soccer field or taking piano lessons, not getting dressed up to look like hookers.”

“I wouldn’t say hookers. They’re more like kids playing dress-up with their mom’s clothes and cosmetics.”

She kept walking as she pondered Rudy’s observations.

So much of what she’d seen backstage was like make-believe. Most average women couldn’t afford what these high-end hairstylists and makeup artists charged, ditto what the fashion houses were selling, which was why she appreciated the concept of Nola Morgan Design’s contest. The designers in the competition were creating clothes for real women, and real women were the ones who spent most of the money and did most of the buying.

Deciding she’d never understand the minds of those who ran this industry, she was relieved to find their station just as she’d predicted. The table was filled with the same setup as the day before, and the puppy pen already held a Yorkie and both mini Schnauzers.

She stored her tote under the table and gave her boy a nod. “How about if I put your travel mat in the pen and you hang with the other dogs? Maybe you can find out how Lilah’s baby is doing. No matter how nasty she was to people, Lilah was his mom and he lost her, so I’m sure he’s sad.”

Rudy curled up on his mat and eyed the other canines.
“No problemo. I can keep watch on them and the table from here.”

A minute later, jumping like a crazed grasshopper, Kitty King ran over. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” She threaded her fingers through her spiky blond hair. “Have you heard?”

“Heard?” Ellie grabbed her assistant’s shaking hands and pulled her to a chair. “Is this about Lilah?”

“What?” Kitty shook her head. “Lilah? No.” She heaved a sigh. “Well, sort of. I still can’t believe it.”

Had someone confessed to emptying Lilah’s EpiPen? Had the cops figured out how she came in contact with peanuts? “Sit and relax for a second. If it doesn’t concern Lilah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Kitty breathed slowly, in and out, in and out. Then she grinned. “The NMD officials have moved me into Lilah’s place in the competition.”

In the design contest?
Ellie knew the young woman wanted to be a designer, but she had no idea that Kitty had even entered the competition. Or was she taking Lilah’s place with the help of her brother, Jeffery? “Really? I mean, you didn’t say a word about entering. How did it happen?”

“I got a phone call last night,” Kitty said, inhaling. “I did enter, but no one ever mentioned how the losing designers stacked up, so this was the first I realized I must have been number five.” She raised her palms to her temples. “I’m a wreck. I have a ton of stuff to do. I spent all of last night going over my designs, trying to choose the ones that were best, but easiest to do on such short notice.” She shrugged. “I guess that old saying ‘what goes around comes around’ is really true.”

“Sorry. I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

“I never found the time to tell you.” Kitty ducked her head and lowered her voice. “Lilah stole my designs and used them to win a spot in the competition.”

Ellie blinked her surprise. “She copied your work?”

“Worse than copied.” Kitty nodded a hello to the model dropping off her tiny Yorkie, and waited until she left before continuing. “She actually found the drawings of what I planned to submit in my brother’s home office.”

“Your brother’s home office? What was Lilah doing at his place?”

“He threw a party to celebrate his promotion and invited NMD people along with friends. Lilah hadn’t been invited, but she showed up as someone’s date, and Jeff didn’t want to make a scene so he ignored her most of the night. I’d brought a folder holding the designs I planned to submit and left it sitting on his desk. After the party, while he and I were cleaning up, we realized it was gone. We figured somebody had taken it, so I pulled out my second choices, worked them over, and sent them in instead.”

Kitty took another deep breath. “They weren’t as good as my first choice ones, of course, but the next business day was the deadline, so I had to submit them.”

“When did you find out it was Lilah who took them?” Ellie had a sinking feeling the episode would come back to haunt her assistant, but she wouldn’t say anything until she heard the whole story. “Did you confront her?”

Slumping in her chair, Kitty sighed. “I didn’t, but Jeff was on the recommendation committee and he knew she was the thief the minute he saw Lilah’s entry. Even so, he couldn’t accuse her until he talked to her.” She hugged her arms around her chest. “According to him, it got ugly.”

“Ugly how?”

“He asked Lilah and she denied it. They argued and a few people overheard the fight. Word went round that he only accused Lilah because he was trying to get me in. When he heard that, he excused himself from the committee. Since there was no real proof that Lilah stole my work, she won a spot.”

“I see.” Ellie smiled a hello to the model dropping off her white Chihuahua and adding her tote to the growing pile under the table. “Then I guess you’re happy Lilah is gone.”

“I’m happy she’s out and I’m in, but I never wanted her dead,” said Kitty, raising her button nose in the air. “I have no idea how it happened, but I’m glad it did . . . sort of. You know what I mean.” She heaved another sigh and shot to her feet. “I have to get moving. My models will be here any minute, and I have to start creating.”

Kitty raced off and Ellie slumped in her chair. So that’s what the girl had meant yesterday, when she mentioned design theft and backbiting. But it had to be a coincidence that Lilah ended up dead. Kitty didn’t strike her as the type to commit murder. Then again, according to Sam, murderers had no particular type. Anyone could kill if they were desperate enough or pushed in the wrong direction.

“Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

She dropped to her knees and kept her voice low. “There is no way Kitty could kill anyone. I saw her with the dogs yesterday, and nobody as kind to animals as she is would ever commit murder.”

“I don’t think so either, but you know the cops. They’ll suspect her.”

Before Ellie could answer, a pair of long legs approached them, and she rose to greet Marcus David.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his handsome face wearing a grin.

“I’m—I was—talking to my dog.”

He cocked his head and his sandy brown hair feathered his forehead. “I bet that little guy knows a lot of your secrets.”

“He’s more like my sounding board,” she answered. “Are you ready for this afternoon?”

“Me? Sure, but I bet Kitty is having a fit.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “She’s got to show both outfits to the committee today, and to the press, and with the murder and all, she’ll be in the spotlight for sure.”

“Then you heard something from the police? They’re certain Lilah was murdered?”

Marcus lifted a broad shoulder. “Has to be, no? Lilah was always blabbing about her EpiPen. She’d instructed the few friends she had on how to use it in case she was stricken. She’d never have carried one that was discharged, which means someone emptied it, then made sure she came in contact with peanuts.”

Ellie raised a brow. “The few friends she had? Is that a nice way of saying Lilah had enemies?”

“You saw her, heard how she talked, and it wasn’t a joke. She had a gift for hurting people’s feelings, like when she argued with me about your figure, which is perfect for the plus-sized gig, by the way.” His lips thinned. “She had a way of saying things that cut right to the bone, and I should know.”

She couldn’t imagine Lilah saying anything rude about a tall, handsome man like Marcus David. As far as she could see, he was a talented designer, and he’d been polite and friendly every time they spoke. “You should know? I’m sorry, but—”

“It’s personal, so don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He glanced at his watch, then scanned the room. “The first show on the schedule—I think it’s Richard Chai—is set to start in fifteen minutes. I’ve got to run.”

Ellie checked out the room when he left and spotted Detective Vaughn speaking with Kurt Jager, last night’s emcee and the person who’d begged audience members for an EpiPen. They made eye contact and both men headed in her direction.

“Ms. Engleman,” said Detective Vaughn when they reached her, “I have to ask you a few more questions.”

“Here? Now?”

Vaughn took a quick scan of the area. “I don’t see anything happening here right now, so yes.”

Kurt Jager, wearing a George Hamilton tan, smiled, and his handsome face looked ten years younger. He was a retired model who’d been featured in Ralph Lauren’s Polo ads back in the eighties, where he’d made his fortune. He’d been kind to her during and after last night’s incident, and they’d shared a joke or two about his own dog, a Spuds MacKenzie look-alike named Mavis Davis, who was an English bull terrier.

“It’s all right, Ellie. He has news,” said Kurt.

“News?” she asked, hoping the police had ruled out murder.

When Detective Vaughn said, “I can take it from here, Mr. Jager,” she knew she was wrong.

Giving a snappy salute, Kurt left, and Ellie took a seat. “Have you found out what happened to Lilah’s EpiPen?” she asked when Vaughn sat across from her.

“As far as we can tell, the pen was drained on purpose,” he answered, his tone subdued. “We found epinephrine in an orange one of the CSU techs found underneath this table.”

Then Charlene had been right. That orange was something special.

Vaughn continued. “Testing showed it held the usual amount found in an EpiPen of the type the victim carried.” He crossed his long legs and his pants crept up, showing his faded red socks. “Unfortunately, the rough peel on the orange makes it impossible to lift a print.”

“So whoever emptied the pen knew what they were doing.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that they did. But we’re having less luck finding out how Ms. Perry ingested or came into contact with a peanut.” He pulled out his spiral notepad. “That’s where you come in.”

Ellie swallowed. “Me?”

“You spent time with her, and her bag was under your surveillance most of the day.” He raised an iron-gray eyebrow. “Besides that, you saw whatever anyone ate or drank, if they did it here.”

“Sure, I watched, but I didn’t take notes or anything personal. People came and went all day, and a lot of them brought their own food. You know the joke about models eating a lettuce leaf for lunch? Well, that’s just about what they did.”

“But Ms. Perry wasn’t a model. We ran tests on everything she carried in her bag, and it was all peanut free. And we heard about the fuss she made when Ms. King offered her an energy bar. If she didn’t come into contact with peanuts from something on this table, then where did it come from?”

She couldn’t figure out if he was asking her or talking out loud to himself. This was the first time she’d dealt with Newton Vaughn, and she had no idea if he had a sense of humor. It was something she needed to find out from Sam, if he was off duty tonight.

“Do you expect me to answer that?” she finally asked when his sharp eyes continued to scan her face.

“I heard you were a good observer. Now that you’ve had time to think about it, I hoped to hear more about what you noticed.”

Ellie stifled a groan. Her life had been so much simpler before she started her dog-walking business. Of course, it had been boring, too, and she’d been broke most of the time. Now she had money and great friends. But was it a plus when she added murder to the mix?

“Dozens of people came and went during the day. It was impossible to keep track of just one person. Especially one who was . . . um . . . difficult.”