"There!" Ava said, pulling toward the right, where I could see Stalker Guy weaving through a crowd lingering outside a coffeehouse three doors down.
We jogged after him, the best that two girls in heels could, dodging passersby as we made our way down the sidewalk.
I caught sight of the ball cap as it made a right up ahead. We rounded the corner, and I spied him ducking into an outdoor farmers' market. Ava and I followed, maneuvering around stalls, skirting street performers, and pushing through the ambling sea of people apparently not in a hurry to get anywhere. Unfortunately, as Grant had pointed out at dinner the evening before, a baseball cap was not necessarily an anomaly in California, and several men were sporting them to shield the sun at this time of day. Making it all that much harder to keep our prey in sight as we weaved in and out of the displays of brightly colored seasonal fruits and vegetables, local honey and jarred preserves, and vendors selling handmade tortillas and hot fresh crepes.
"On the left!" Ava exclaimed in an urgent whisper and pointed, as Stalker Guy stepped behind a booth selling five minute neck massages.
We followed suit, but by the time we came up behind the large blue sign promising to "massage your cares away," he was nowhere to be found.
"You see him?" Ava asked, her blonde ponytail whipping her cheeks as she looked left and right.
I bit my lip. "No," I admitted.
Ava leaned against the nearest building as she fought to catch her breath. "We lost him," she moaned.
I put an arm around her, feeling my own breath coming hard—partly due to the adrenaline surge at initially spying him and partly due to the fact that I avoided the gym like the plague. "Sorry," I told her.
She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Well, we tried." She nodded her head toward the next booth over, selling frozen lemonade. "I think we need a couple of those."
I had to agree with her there. While the morning had started out with a chill, now that the sun was high in the sky, the temperatures had risen as well. I felt sweat on the back of my neck from the vigorous impromptu run.
Once we'd both gotten our breathing under control, we grabbed two frozen lemonades, and since it was nearing noon, we added a couple of savory Crepes with Bacon Onion Jam to go with them, taking our lunch to a wooden bench in the shade to enjoy it.
I dug into the light, creamy crepes smothered in rich jam, loving the salty-sweet-tangy combo of the bacon and caramelized onions playing with brown sugar and vinegar in the filling.
"So what do you think he was doing here?" Ava asked around a bite of crepe.
"Stalker Guy?" I clarified.
She nodded. "You think maybe he was at the hotel following another model?"
I shrugged. "I suppose it's possible." I paused. "I did see Jada in the lobby."
Ava stabbed a piece of caramelized onion. "You think he was stalking both Gia and Jada?"
"He could have been. You know, it looked like he was taking pictures."
"Of what?" she asked, popping the bite into her mouth.
"Beats me. Models? The lobby? Us?"
Ava paused. "I don't like that last one."
That made two of us. I sipped my lemonade, the smooth icy texture melting in the hot sun. "It does make him seem a bit guilty that he ran away like that," I noted.
"A lot guilty," Ava amended, stabbing her fork at me for emphasis. "Most people don't bolt when they've been caught taking photos."
"Unless they're taking pictures of something they shouldn't be."
"Exactly!"
"Even so, I hate to say it, but it's possible he's just guilty of stalking and not actually killing Gia."
"That's depressing," Ava said.
"Sorry." I paused, moving bits of salty bacon around on my plate. "But I still think that Fabio was hiding something for Costello."
"Like a fake alibi?"
I nodded. "Could be. Or maybe stretching one. They both seemed a little hazy on time. Costello could have killed Gia backstage over whatever she'd been threatening him with then met up with Fabio much later. Like, right before we found her."
Ava nodded. "Of course, it's also possible Daisy saw Fabio right after the show ended, like Costello said, and then she slipped backstage and killed Gia out of some sort of twisted revenge on Costello."
"Or Hughie Smart really did care about being fired, and he followed her backstage and killed her."
I sighed. "Let's face it, the only people with real alibis for the entire time are the two of us."
Ava grinned, sipping her lemonade again. "Thank goodness for small favors."
I corralled another piece of crepe onto my fork and nibbled, letting the light pancake melt in my mouth as I stared out at the crowd, growing now as the weekenders grabbed bites of food to sop up all the alcohol they planned to sip that afternoon. "You know, something Hughie said this morning has been bothering me," I told her, mentally replaying our conversation with him.
"What's that?" she asked, sucking up the last of her drink through a paper straw.
"About how much money Gia was making." I set my fork down. "He said her rate was only a thousand dollars a show."
Ava shrugged. "Nice pay for walking across a stage and back."
I nodded. "True," I agreed. "But you saw how many hours of prep went into that two-minute walk. Hair, makeup, accessories. Not to mention the fittings beforehand."
"What's your point?" Ava asked, setting her plastic cup back down on the wooden bench bedside her.
"Well, just that if you break it down, she wasn't getting a huge hourly rate. And I have to assume she wasn't walking in a show every day."
"Probably more like a few a month, if she was lucky," Ava guessed. "At least in the busy season."
"Which means she was possibly making a living at modeling, but considering the cost of living in San Francisco, she wasn't making a whole lot more than that." I paused. "So if she wasn't making the big bucks, how did she finance her big lifestyle?"
Ava cocked her head to the side. "That is a good point. Yachts, sports cars, designer clothes…those all cost a pretty penny."
"Grant said her credit card statements had tons of charges on them."
Ava shrugged. "Maybe she had a side business?"
I nodded. "Like what?"
"I don't know," Ava admitted. "I have a hard time picturing her driving an Uber part time."
I grinned. "Yeah, she didn't strike me as the side hustle type."
"Maybe she had a sugar daddy? Or some family supporting her?"
"Grant said she didn't have any close family. No boyfriend that he knew of either."
"Well, maybe she did some modeling on the side. Jobs she didn't book through Hughie?"
I raised an eyebrow her direction. "That, actually, sounds like a likely possibility." I thought about it a beat. "And a reason for tension between her and her agent," I added.
"Maybe Hughie found out about it, they argued, and Gia decided she didn't need him anymore," Ava said, picking up the theory. "Maybe that's the phone call Costello overheard. Only instead of letting Gia go, Hughie drove to the fashion show and killed her."
"Over the few hundred dollars he'd lose?" I asked, still skeptical about that part.
Ava shrugged. "Maybe it was more out of anger. Bruised ego? Didn't he say he 'made' Gia? Maybe he was angry that she'd been capitalizing on his hard work behind his back?"
I nodded. "I guess that's possible. He did seem like the kind of guy with a short fuse," I mused.
"And maybe he took the emerald," Ava went on, "as some sort of compensation after the fact for the money he'd lost out on? Who knows—he might have even thought it belonged to Gia if he hadn't caught the end of the fashion show."
"Of course, this is all contingent on if Gia actually was taking jobs on the side."
"Right." Ava licked the last of her jam off her fork, eyes going to a point above me as she thought about that. "You think Jada might know?"
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "If Gia was taking side g
igs?"
Ava nodded. "They seemed to be friends."
I grabbed my empty paper plate and plastic lemonade cup. "It's certainly worth asking."
* * *
Ten minutes later we were back at the Sonoma Valley Inn, where luckily the check-out lines had apparently been long and the line to have a car brought around even longer, as Jada was still standing just outside the main entrance, at the valet station, toting her rolling suitcase behind her as she sipped from a paper coffee cup.
"Jada?" I called out as we approached her.
She looked up, recognition taking a moment to set in. "Oh. Hi."
"You're checking out?" Ava asked, gesturing to her suitcase.
Jada nodded. "Yeah. Police said we could go home. I guess they have all the statements they need." She shrugged.
"I'm sure it will be nice to return to normal," Ava agreed, giving her a sympathetic smile.
But Jada just shrugged again. "Sure."
"Uh, anyway, I'm glad we caught you before you left," I said.
"Oh?" One of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted. "Is this about that job modeling for your winery ads? Because you'll have to talk to my agent about that."
"You always book through your agent?" Ava asked.
Jada nodded. "Of course. It's in our contracts."
"Gia's too?" I asked. "I mean, Gia's agency contract with Hughie Smart."
Jada frowned. "It's standard for any agency contract." She paused. "Why are you asking about Gia?"
"We noticed that Gia lived a bit of an…expensive lifestyle," I said carefully.
"Gia booked a lot of jobs," Jada said. "She was in high demand."
"Not high enough to finance a Ferrari," Ava said.
Jada paused, letting that one sink in. She shifted her weight in her heels, eyes going past us to the street as if looking for her car to arrive. "I-I guess I just assumed Gia was getting paid more than I was." Her gaze moved from Ava to me. "Wasn't she?"
Honestly? I had no idea. I did know that her daily rate was not in the champagne and caviar realm yet. Gia might have been in high demand in the small San Francisco fashion scene, but she was hardly a Victoria's Secret Angel.
"Did Gia ever mention booking any side jobs? Ones outside what Hughie was finding for her?" I asked.
Jada scoffed. "No. No way." She shook her head. "Hughie would have a fit."
That was kind of the theory we were going on. "Maybe Gia hid it from Hughie?" I offered.
But Jada just shook her head again. "No. Gia was not that stupid. She would have known Hughie would find out. It's a small community, and it would have ruined her reputation. No one wants to work with someone they can't trust."
"You're sure?" I asked.
"Very. Look, Gia might have been a lot of things, but she wasn't stupid."
"What about Costello?" Ava jumped in.
Jada spun to face my friend, her eyes holding a note of suspicion in them. "Carl? What about him?"
"Could he have been paying Gia extra on the side for her work? Above what Hughie paid her?"
"I don't see why he would," she responded, a frown marring her features.
"You know, we were just up in Costello's penthouse earlier this morning," I said.
"Were you?" Her eyes scanned the street again, looking for her vehicle, as if looking for an escape from the uncomfortable conversation about her coworkers.
"Yes," I answered. "We were talking about where he was after the fashion show ended. He said he went backstage. He said he talked to you there."
"Me?" Her gaze whipped back to me, and I could see some emotion flitting across them.
I nodded. "Did he?"
She quickly blinked, turning her face away. "Well, if that's what he said, then it must be true."
"You don't remember?" Ava asked.
Jada shrugged, sipping from her coffee before she answered. "Everyone was everywhere. It was chaotic. I-I don't remember my every move."
I had a feeling Jada remembered a lot more than she was willing to say. She worked for Costello—who was obviously in the market for a new star closer to his shows. I had a strong feeling the emotion I'd seen flitting behind her eyes had been fear. Fear of losing her job if she didn't back up Costello's new alibi.
"How did Costello and Gia get along?" Ava asked, clearly picking up on the same vibe I was.
"Fine," Jada said.
"You never sensed any tension between them?"
"No," Jada said emphatically. "Why would there be? Costello is an artist. I'm sure Gia was honored to close his shows. The man is a creative genius."
While I thought Costello's designs were very tasteful and wearable, creative wasn't the word that immediately sprang to my mind. "You certainly seem to enjoy working for him."
"Of course," Jada shot back. "He understands a woman's body in a way no other designer does. Even if they think they can hack his designs," she added with a note of disdain in her voice.
"Are you talking about Daisy Dot?" I asked, my mind immediately going to Costello's accusation of her stealing his designs.
Jada smirked. "So you've heard the rumor too? I guess it's obvious to everyone she couldn't have come up with those looks herself."
"Costello did mention he thought she'd copied his cutouts."
"Stole," Jada said hotly.
It was clear which designer held her allegiance.
"How do you think she stole them?" Ava asked.
Jada's eyes whipped to Ava. "What?"
"I mean, if Costello hadn't shown them publicly yet, how did she see them?"
"I-I don't know," Jada sputtered, frowning as if she'd never thought of that. Honestly, I hadn't either. "But I do know that woman has had it in for Carl."
"Really?" I asked. "Because she said the same thing about him."
Jada scoffed again, letting out a barking laugh. "Oh, she would. But, no, it's been the other way around. She stole his looks. And then she accused him of stealing some earrings. She said he was jealous just because Gia walked in her spring show. As if Carl cared who Gia walked for when she wasn't with him."
"Wait, Gia was in Daisy Dot's spring show?" I asked, remembering how vague the woman had been about her working relationship with Gia. "The one with the birthstone theme?"
Jada nodded. "Yes. Didn't I say she booked out a lot? But it's ridiculous to think that Carl would steal some stupid earrings just to get back at Daisy over that." She shook her head. "It's not Carl's style to do something so petty. Besides, they were returned, so chances are the woman misplaced them herself. Heck, maybe she even did it on purpose to accuse Carl."
I felt my mental wheels turning, less focused on whether or not Costello or Daisy Dot was the innocent injured party in their rivalry than on the fact that Gia had been at the fashion show where the earrings had gone missing. Apparently walking for Daisy.
"Jada, do you know which model Gia was at that spring show?" I asked. "I mean, which month of the year she was portraying?"
She blinked at me. "Yeah. July, of course. The one who had the missing earrings."
I was about to ask her more, when a dark colored sedan pulled up to the curb and Jada's face relaxed into relief. "That's my car," she said, tossing her paper cup into a nearby trash bin. "I've gotta go."
With that, she clacked her heels the few paces to the curb, where she exchanged a tip for her car keys from a valet and drove off.
Leaving Ava and me standing on the sidewalk watching her.
"What was that about Gia being July?" Ava asked.
"Doesn't it seem like a coincidence to you?" I asked, turning to face her. "That first a pair of ruby earrings that Gia is supposed to wear goes missing and then an emerald she's wearing goes missing too?"
Ava's eyebrows pulled together. "That does seem like a coincidence."
I shook my head. "I think maybe we've been going about this all wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, maybe the strangling and theft of the emerald aren't related."<
br />
Ava shook her head. "Not sure I follow."
"Well, what if Gia wasn't the victim of a robbery? What if she was stealing the emerald herself?"
Ava clamped a hand down on my arm. "Ohmigosh. You think Gia was the thief?"
"She had the opportunity. With both the emerald and the ruby earrings."
Ava nodded. "The private dressing room. Didn't Costello say she always insisted on it?"
"It gave her plenty of time to privately steal the jewelry she was wearing once she'd been dressed with it."
"But the earrings weren't really stolen, remember?" Ava said. "They miraculously appeared after the show ended."
"Right." I thought about that a beat. "Okay, how about this: Gia knew ahead of time what pieces she'd be wearing at shows, right? I mean, she knew she'd be wearing your emerald?"
Ava nodded. "We did a fitting the week before the show to make sure I had all the right pieces to go with Costello's outfits."
"What if she has copies made of the gems she knows she'll be wearing? Then when she's at the show and has the piece alone in her dressing room, she takes the real jewel out and swaps in a fake copy."
"Fakes?" I could see Ava mentally putting it all together too. "That's why the earrings reappeared. Gia took them just long enough to extract the rubies and replace them with the fake ones."
I nodded. "She could have easily taken pictures of the gems with her phone at the fittings. She'd know exactly what the fakes should look like."
Ava nodded. "That was her side business. She was stealing from the designers who hired her!"
"By the time anyone figured out the gems were fake, it would be almost impossible to trace where or when they'd been taken."
"If they ever figured it out," Ava pointed out. She paused. "The pendant around Gia's neck was empty when she was found. Gia must have been in the process of swapping out the emerald for a fake when she was killed."
I pictured the scene we'd found in the dressing room, this theory painting it in a whole new light: that of a thief being caught in the act of her crime. While no one deserved to die the way Gia had, she suddenly didn't look like the perfectly innocent victim.
Fashion, Rosé & Foul Play (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 6) Page 10
