“No time to score turnout pants and fit them for you,” she said. “I’ll dress you in one of the Cocky Heroes business suits. It’s cutting it close. I just don’t see us having time to do the private show. Maybe I should cancel.”
The last thing Jason wanted was to miss going to Professor Leach’s place. There was something fishy going on, especially with Larry Leach associated with the fundraising parties held near the location where the bodies were found.
“We should stick to the schedule,” he said. “I can help. I’ll take a few days off and be the model wrangler.”
“It’s not that simple.” Avery threw her hands up and shook her head. “You’re so arrogant. You think you can insert yourself everywhere and fix everything.”
“That’s your view of me.” He caught both her hands with his and brought them to his lips. “Let me help you. No sense trying to do everything yourself.”
“Then take me to Ivanna’s place,” Avery ordered. “I need to gather up any accessories she was working on.”
Avery couldn’t help the tingles and sparks jumping all over her, but she could at least put Jason in his place. He was nothing to her but a pesky NYPD cop who saw murder behind every big city death.
True, she had not known Garm was Saul’s brother or that he’d overdosed. Models were in the glamour business, and partying with celebrities was key to breaking out from anonymous clothes horse to supermodel status. While Popo believed the young men were too keen on physical fitness to abuse drugs, how little did she know of the intense pressure to control weight and appetite.
These days, designers and photographers were always looking for something new and edgy. Everyone vied to catch fire as the ultimate in glamour. Cheap and expensive tricks were used for promoting, and shows were no longer set in a plain room with a catwalk.
The top firms often staged their shows in venues such as mansions, museums, aquariums, or they designed their “set” as meticulously as movie sets.
It was all about being remembered and talked about. One designer even finished his show with a circle of real flames.
Alida had managed to score the Madison Square Garden for Avery’s upcoming show, but a venue wasn’t make-or-break if the clothes were dull and didn’t catch fire.
Instead, she used contrasts to gain attention. A face with neon-colored makeup wearing a pure white and strait-laced wedding dress, or a multi-colored evening dress full of bling on a fresh-faced model with no makeup and plain, cropped hair.
If Professor Leach hadn’t pooh-poohed her animalistic faces, she would have done it last year. As it turned out, Ivanna was trying to steal this concept from her and pitch to Alida to make her the hot new designer.
“What are you thinking?” Jason asked when they arrived in front of Ivanna’s brownstone. “You look worried.”
She looked up at the brownstone. “If you’re any use, you’ll get me in there.”
“Shouldn’t you get permission from her sister?” Jason had the arrogance to stand there looking innocent, as if he wouldn’t abuse his power to get what he wanted.
“I don’t want to disturb them. They have enough to worry about. Now that I have to do Ivanna’s job, I have a legitimate reason to get in there.”
He stood there with his arms crossed and his foot tapping. “I’ll wait for you to call her sister.”
“Jerk.” Avery whipped out her phone and walked halfway down the block away from Jason. Safire didn’t answer, so she texted her.
Hey, I know you’re busy, but I need to finish the accessories Ivanna was working on for the show. Think you can let me into her apartment?
The answer came back too quickly. No. Not unless Ivanna says it’s okay. What’s wrong with you? My sister might die, and all you care about is your work?
Jason’s low whistle bristled the hairs on the back of Avery’s neck. She snapped a dirty look at him for peeking.
“Looks like I’m your only chance,” he said, humming under his breath. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“No deal. Just get me in there.” She stomped her foot and put her phone away.
He made a show of looking at his watch and frowning. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. Lots of evidence to look over. Since you wanted me to drop you off at your place, let’s get going.”
Grrr … The man was infuriating and completely an ass. She didn’t come so close to Ivanna’s place only to be rebuffed. Swallowing her pride, she huffed. “Okay, what’s the deal?”
“I deputize you to help me with the investigation, and then we go in together.”
“I didn’t say I’m going to help you.”
“It’s the only legal way for me to get you in there. You’re on the case as my partner.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the door. “Act like it.”
She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Fine. But it ends after I get what I want.”
“You’ll never get all you want,” he muttered under his breath as he pressed the supervisor’s intercom button.
As she expected, Jason’s authority was enough for the supervisor to not only buzz them in, but meet them in front of the door.
“I’m praying for Miss Chu,” the sweaty man said as he unlocked the door. “This place is safe. I’m having a gate put up. We have very good neighbors here. They watch out for each other.”
“In that case, my partner will be back to ask the neighbors what they saw.”
Avery was about to jut her lip and protest, when Jason guided her in and whispered, “Cool your hotcakes, babe. You’re not the only partner I’ve ever deputized.”
Ugh. The man was a complete ass. Fortunately, he’d forgotten what happened at the hunting cabin. Maybe he had a motto—whatever went on in a hunting cabin stayed inside the hunting cabin.
She could only hope.
The supervisor let them in but did not follow them around. Instead, he told Jason to lock up. No doubt the background noises of the fight on pay per view was more important than watching over a tenant’s apartment.
Avery instantly homed in on the half-finished work Ivanna left on the sewing machine.
“Is this what you expected?” Jason asked. “All of these scales, fur, and fins part of your show?”
“They will be this year, if no one stole my designs,” Avery said. “Last year, my professor told me to hold back. He said it was tacky and would ruin my reputation. That this bordered on bestiality.”
“That’s an awful thing to say,” Jason exclaimed as if he were a prim and prudish schoolmarm. “It’s not like you have sex with your models.”
Avery rolled her eyes. If this was his clumsy way of finding out if she’d slept with them, he was definitely losing his touch.
“Most of them are gay.” She picked up a plastic bag and arranged the half-finished work while looking for Ivanna’s notes. “You still have a chance to back out of the private showing.”
“Never.” He hovered over her, no doubt observing her every breath. “This modeling life sounds exciting. I’m serious. If I get a big break from the private showing, I’m thinking of asking Alida to represent me.”
“Oh, the arrogance.” Avery couldn’t help smirking. “First of all, you’re too old. You’re too built. You’re unforgettable.”
“I thought supermodels were unforgettable.”
She propped her hands on her hips and gaped at him. “They are, but the days of supermodels are over. The fashion pace is too fast and people want new, new, new, new, new. Who wants to look at Cindy Crawford’s mole all the time? The very thing that made a supermodel famous in the old days is the very thing that bores today.”
“You seem very sure of yourself,” Jason commented as if he still held on to the dream of being a supermodel.
“Do the research, buddy.” She poked his chest. “Novelty and diversity are what’s hot. It means a combination not seen before on bodies not done before. Agents present us a palette of body sizes, shapes, hair textures and colors, eye shapes and colors, hues and
shades. My goal is contrast. I contrast the clothing and the makeup. The hair and the accessories, and the models with each other. I never use the same one twice, so what use would a supermodel be for my line?”
“I’m sure they still get top billing.”
“Only if they have a huge FacePlant following.” Avery felt like he was an elementary school pupil. “And they developed the following on their own time, not ours.”
“You sound so dismissive of my dream.” His tone was peevish and injured, or was it mocking? “And here I was, thinking the private showing with your world-famous professor would give me a big break.”
“Actually, no model who wants a future would do a showing for Professor Leach.” She regretted it as soon as she blurted this truth. Sure enough, he asked why.
“Why? Why?” She played for more time. “Because he has strange tastes in clothes, and no photos are allowed. So it’s a waste of time as far as developing your lookbook and getting FacePlant followers and creating buzz.”
“I’m wounded.” He clapped a hand over his heart. “You’re using me as disposable goods.”
“You volunteered without knowing what you’re getting into. Do you always leap before looking?”
“For a beautiful woman, all the time.” He mock-bowed. “I’ll be happy to model privately for you any time.”
A smile lurked from her heart. He could be charming in his rough and tumble way. “Then I just might keep you—for my eyes only.”
“Lips, tongue, all for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows and raked his gaze down her body.
She could picture him, scratchy and prickly, with a set of succulent lips and a velvety tongue. Goodness, what would he feel like wearing a crown of quills while going down on her?
Pain and pleasure between her thighs.
An open book.
Her gaze shifted languidly from his mouth to his eyes, and what she saw there shocked her with a feral urge. He was eating her alive and drilling right to her core. He knew.
The jiggling of a set of keys jolted both of them from their trance, and Avery quickly collected the half-finished work from Ivanna’s worktable.
“I have to hurry. Commercial break,” the supervisor said. “Did you find anything? Do you have a suspect?”
“We’re carefully collecting and cataloging the evidence,” Jason said. “I’m curious, though. How long has Miss Chu been using fur, feathers, and fins in her work?”
The paunchy man scratched his seven o’clock shadow. “I see her and her friends go out to parties wearing this weird stuff. You should see the Halloween parties they go to.”
“I’ll bet,” Jason said, nodding. “What do they go as?”
“Shapeshifters,” the man replied. “She told me she was designing costumes for shapeshifters. It’s all the rage in the art world, the blurring of a man and an animal.”
“Is she a fashion designer?” Jason asked, all innocently, as if he were shooting the breeze on a baseball player’s salary.
“Not yet. She works for one but says the woman’s too timid to do her best work. Like a mouse.” The super glanced at his watch. “Let me know when you leave. Gotta go.”
Avery could barely hold on to the fumes boiling over her. As soon as the man was out of earshot, she said, “Timid? Is that what she thinks of me? How about she try having the love of her life shot and killed? I can’t believe she thinks it’s okay to steal my designs and go partying with my creations.”
“Well, if you’re not showing them, then what’s the big deal?” Jason’s remarks had to be intended to earn her ire.
“The big deal. It’s my heart and my soul. It’s the emotions and everything I am.”
“That man is an animal?”
“Yes!” she screamed, her fists in a fury and steam spewing from her eyes. “It’s there in every person. Their animalistic nature is right below the surface. Their needs. Food, sex, territory. Some cover it up better than others. But every one of us craves creature comforts.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Except their way of getting it. Predators. Like you.”
“I feel rather like a fish on a hook for you.” His winning smile was entirely incongruous with that sentiment.
“I can’t picture you a fishman,” she said. “That’s Richie.”
“What kind of fish? Shark?”
“No, more like pufferfish.” She puffed her face in an imitation of the pufferfish he had in his aquarium. They were spiny fish that swelled up like balloons when threatened by enemies. “He has a round face, bulging eyes, and is harmless unless threatened. Then he gets prickly.”
“Deceptive, like a forked tongue.” Jason picked up the lizard scale arms. “Who is this? Larry Leach?”
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. His head was already overblown.
Same as his little head. Yikes, I’ve already blown that one.
She yanked her thoughts from the gutter. “I have to find Ivanna’s notes and the list of models to match each one to what he or she is supposed to wear.”
“I’m not stopping you.” He kept too close to her for comfort, especially with the hormones ping-ponging between them.
“Then help me help you with the investigation.” Avery tightened her voice to keep her lust at bay. “We have to find Ivanna’s notes so we can correlate model with animal. Remember, you can’t talk about this to anyone. This has to be a surprise at the show, or it will be worthless. It’s all about the shock and awe. The unpredictable generates the biggest buzz.”
“My lips are sealed.” He lunged at her, quick as a cobra striking, and sucked the breath out of her. Just as quickly, he let her go. “Start searching, deputy.”
Chapter Thirty-One
While Avery looked under the bed and inside the closet, Jason opened Ivanna’s dresser—top drawer first and flipped through the contents. That kiss he’d lobbed at Avery had been quick and dirty, and she’d passed the test. She was clearly attracted to him but reluctant to let her guard down. Talk about being prickly, she was the paragon of porcupine.
Except he’d have to shut it down for now. A young woman had been put in a coma, possibly because of something she knew, and whether Avery was aware of it or not, she, too, was in the line of danger.
Somebody was getting desperate—hence the attack to silence Ivanna, perhaps permanently.
Jason pushed aside the flesh-colored underwear and raised an eyebrow at what he saw.
“Why are you so fixated on lingerie?” Avery asked with a side-eyed look of disapproval. “Is this the reason you became an investigator? To get to dig around a woman’s panty drawer?”
He picked up a black thong. “Fringe benefits. But yes, the underwear drawer tells me a lot about a woman. There was the case of the hotel magnate’s daughter with holey and stretched out panties.”
“What did that show about her?” Avery sniffed, half lifting the mattress and sliding her hand where bedbugs might have taken residence.
He shrugged. “Personality disorder. A tendency to hoard. I knew she’d never throw away a clue.”
“Was she guilty?”
“Let’s just say she incriminated someone by keeping too much.” Jason swept his hand underneath a stack of sports bras. “Your Ivanna is a tomboy. Nothing lacy or frilly. No underwire or pads. Let me guess. She’s no nonsense.”
“Pretty much. Very efficient but keeps close tabs.”
“If she’s organized, she might keep her notes in her head.”
“I doubt it,” Avery said. “She checks and double-checks everything.”
“Doesn’t seem OCD,” Jason remarked. “Colors and shapes are mixed up in here. Has she made mistakes?”
“Nope. She has a great memory and is very observant. That’s why I have her wrangling the models. They’re like baby ducks. You have to wake them up the morning of the show, remind them where to meet, which outfit they’re wearing, what mood they’re in, and line them up. You’ve been to a show, and you know how
fast it goes.”
“All the months of planning for fifteen minutes of walking.” Jason shook his head.
“What can I say? The models walk fast. It’s the overall impression and mood. The energy and emotion that imprints in the heart and soul of the audience.” Avery’s gaze lifted to the ceiling and grew pensive. “Brando wanted that show to have a perfect ending, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
The temperature in the room chilled a few degrees, and Avery’s shoulders slumped as she tucked the sheets back between the mattresses.
“Hey, I’m so sorry.” Jason dropped the thong and put a comforting hand on Avery’s back. “He would have done anything to make you happy.”
“Yes, he would.” Avery sighed and blinked, looking away from Jason. “He wanted to make that evening memorable and special. Unforgettable. I would have been the happiest woman alive, instead of the most pathetic.”
“Your show was a success up to that point.” He wanted so much to soothe the pain she was obviously immersed in. “Alida said the energy and vibe were exactly how she’d planned.”
“Alida is a publicity expert. Of course, she’d spin it that way.”
“Don’t forget, I was there.” Jason drew Avery closer, and she rested against him, still tense and on the verge of tears. “I felt the excitement and energy. It was like an electrical storm. Had my hair standing on edge.”
“More like the gunman had you amped up.” Avery’s voice was dry. “But thanks for the pep talk.”
“No pep talk. Everything was perfect. The colors. The sharp lines, and the contrasting dissonance of textures and angles—hard against soft, smooth and rough, light and dark.”
“Now you’re talking like the fanboy fashion press.” Avery snorted. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
“Brando had an aura of real power and strength.”
“Yes, he did. But did you know he’s a big softy inside?”
Jason smiled and kissed the top of Avery’s head. “Anyone would be mush in your arms.”
Triggered by Love Page 22
