“But what about all the guests? The fashion press? The celebrities? What do we tell them?”
“I’m sure Alida can make it happen. I’m actually glad it’s not at The Garden. It isn’t the easiest to secure. Too many seats and places to hide guns and explosives. It has to be a place where no one can hide anything.”
“But where? I’m going to lose my entire deposit.”
“Not if they find a bomb,” Jason said. “There’s insurance.”
“But Saul only called in a threat. It might not be real.”
Kerry tapped Avery’s arm. “Shouldn’t Jason be arresting him?”
“Actually, I’m undercover, and I want to watch him,” Jason said. “You didn’t hear my message, but I suspect he had something to do with Ivanna’s beating.”
“That’s horrible. You have to drag him in for questioning.”
“Ivanna’s safe in the hospital,” Jason said. “My job right now is to keep you and Kerry safe.”
“How will you do that?”
“Delete all the models you had from last year. That means Tatiana is out.” Jason whipped out a printed image of Ivanna surrounded by models. Jayla and Trent were in the circle. “Also, have you spoken to that firefighter? He’s right here in the picture.”
“Trent wasn’t a model last year,” Avery explained. “Brando gave him and Jayla passes to see the show. This year, he decided to do it to honor Brando’s memory.”
Jason frowned and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You need to take him out. He might not have walked last year, but he was hanging out with the models last year and could have been involved with the suspects.”
“I won’t be able to find a muscular guy in time,” Avery said. “It’s too soon.”
“I can do it,” Jason said.
“I don’t think Trent’s a threat.” Avery’s head whipsawed with all the changes. “I was counting on you to watch the audience.”
“I can do that if I walk first,” Jason said. “As soon as I go backstage, I’ll circle around and stand in back of the photographic pit.”
“You should let Jason do it,” Kerry piped in. “I agree with him. Everyone from last year is suspect. Even though the shooter is dead, someone is still causing trouble. Finn is planning on coming to the show, and we can get him to watch while Jason’s on stage.”
“I’ll only be there less than a minute.” Jason winked. “You know how fast the walk goes.”
Avery hugged herself and nodded jerkily. “At this point, I’ll do anything you suggest. I just want to get through the next two days and relax next week.”
“Any particular plans?” Jason asked, stroking her hair.
“Maybe we can catch a Broadway show or take a spin on a jet ski around the Statue of Liberty?”
“I can arrange both,” Jason said. “I have two tickets to The Schitts of Fifth Avenue and a buddy who runs the jet ski tour.”
“I have tickets, too,” Kerry said. “Finn got some from a buddy of his.”
“Add the jet ski tour for Kerry and Finn, and we’re good to go.” Avery was finally smiling. She hugged Jason and closed her eyes, wondering if she was relying too much on him—like a lifeline.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next two days passed like a blur. True to form, Alida came through when Matt called in a favor. He was friends with a prominent real estate developer who agreed to let them hold her segment of Manhattan Fashion Week on The Edge, the highest sky deck in the Western Hemisphere.
Its triangular shape jutted out the side of a glass skyscraper and from the farthest corner, a person was literally suspended over the air with a panoramic view up and down the Hudson River.
A see-through section of the floor made of glazed glass gave an unobstructed view down to the street one hundred floors below. It was so high up that cars appeared like grains of rice, and the air was thin enough to make Avery dizzy.
Jason was thrilled with the security. The entire upper floor of the tower would be cordoned off, and security agents would be posted around the perimeter of the deck. No one could approach without going up the elevator, and the adjoining restaurant and bar would be closed.
Apparently Secret Service approved because the president’s gazelle-like daughter was back in the lineup. None of the guests, photographers, or models were told exactly where the show would be held. Everyone involved would go through metal detectors and be chauffeured to the base of the building, then brought up the secure elevator and seated after being screened a second time.
What could go wrong?
Avery suppressed the shadow of dread that hovered over her. It was post-traumatic stress and the anniversary of her grief. She and Brando’s mother would be forever tied together by the date. Everything was set, but fear constricted like a noose around her heart.
When she was young, she used to count down the hours before a dentist appointment. She’d imagine that in forty-eight hours, she’d be past it, and she’d visualize how happy she would be.
In a week, she and Jason, along with Kerry and Finn would be at a Broadway show. They would arrive in a shared limo, but unfortunately, couldn’t sit together. In a little more than a week, they would be jet-skiing around Liberty Island, and in two weeks, she was flying to Hawaii.
If the next forty-eight hours didn’t kill her.
She zipped up her garment bags and hefted her makeup kit over her shoulder. Jason came out of her brother’s bathroom wearing a suit and tie. His hair was pomaded with gel, and his barely-there beard was trimmed just the way the professor preferred. His watchful eyes, of course, were on her, slightly creased with worry.
“Showtime,” he said, taking her bags from her.
“You set the GPS to Professor Leach’s place?” she asked for the thousandth time.
“Not only that, I’ve scoped out the Upper East Side neighborhood already. Get in the car and relax.”
“I just want to get this over with.” She nuzzled his face with hers. “I’d kiss you, but I can’t get lipstick on your collar.”
“I don’t mind,” Jason said. “But you said the professor is a stickler for perfection.”
“We’ll touch you up when we get there.” She walked with him from Damon’s apartment where she and Kerry had been staying while Jason and Finn lived in hers. It was for the better. She couldn’t let herself make love to him. Not yet. Not when Jason could be irrevocably disgusted with her by the end of the evening.
“So, we practiced the walk,” Jason said as he got into the car. “You showed me how to strip, and you said I was a quick learner. But I couldn’t even tempt a kiss out of you.”
“I have to stay focused.” She suppressed a shiver. “I’ll let go after the after-party tomorrow night. I promise.”
“You’re so uptight; you’re wound tighter than a midnight rendezvous.”
“You’re making no sense.” She rested her head against the side of the car and closed her eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths.
“You’re not scared of walking a few yards, are you?” He squeezed her hand. “I’m the one doing the stripping. You’re only supposed to watch.”
How little did he know.
“You promised you’d do anything I ask,” she reiterated.
“I won’t kill anyone.”
“It won’t be criminal; don’t worry.”
“On second thought, I’d gladly kill someone if they were going to harm you.”
She touched his forearm, more to steady herself than to reassure him. “You’ve already proven yourself.”
He grimaced with an unspoken thought, and she knew what he was regretting—that he still hadn’t caught the person behind Ernesto Gomez.
They’d gone over the list of suspects, even added ones that were ridiculous, just for grins.
Saul had an alibi for last year’s show, but he definitely was up to no good. He was either informing on her to Larry Leach or playing tricks with Ivanna. Jason had checked the hospital, and even though they wouldn’t
give out Ivanna’s information, he’d barreled in there with a story about his child needing to know if her mother was okay.
The hospital, wanting to get rid of him, told him Ivanna Chu was not a patient.
Damon couldn’t get a straight answer out of Safire, and as for Clarissa, the modeling agent at Starbright, she’d mysteriously resigned and flew off to Hong Kong.
Could Ivanna have wanted her or Brando killed?
Was she so jealous and upset that Avery hadn’t taken her on as a design partner that she paid Ernesto to kill Brando and wound her to the very core of her soul?
Ziko, the witness at the model apartment, had said it was a man who paid. Or had he assumed? He hadn’t seen who was in the black limo, and he didn’t get a plate number either. Jason had tried the two phone numbers for the model bookers, but there was no answer. The phone numbers were for burner phones, and he wasn’t able to trace them.
Jaheem was useless. When pressed to the location and identity of the parties he claimed he was so good at, he clammed up. He couldn’t even be induced to talk for money. He said he valued his life more.
Then there was Larry Leach and Tatiana Renzi, the two who met at Mrs. Bonet’s apartment building. Larry was an influential bundler for campaign contributions and an old family friend. His father was Avery’s mentor. She’d never thought Larry was dangerous, but that was before Jason uncovered an interesting factoid.
Avery was a beneficiary in Orson’s will. She didn’t inherit everything, but apparently, she would share equally with Larry and Harvey. Was a third of Orson’s estate a reason for the Leach brothers to get rid of her?
As for Tatiana’s role. She seemed to have her fingers in many pies. The witness claimed she was friends with Joselito, but Jason suspected she and Larry had a tempestuous relationship, including domestic abuse. Was she two-timing him? Keeping the sexy dragon man for her wild side?
Jason went as far as suspecting Alida’s brother, Cory, the computer nerd. Avery figured it was jealousy, because Cory had a crush on her and Damon was always hinting at them getting together.
She’d told him Cory was a teddy bear or an overgrown Ewok. He was too disorganized to hire hitmen and too oblivious to the danger of figuring out how to pay them.
Jason was even more ridiculous when it came to Richie Overton. For one thing, Richie hired good and competent people. He had high and exacting standards for all of his bodyguards, chauffeurs, and valets. Avery had dismissed out of hand that Richie would ever have hired the likes of Ernesto Gomez, a guy who so obviously didn’t fit in at the fashion show that Jason had noticed him immediately. The hit and run attempt with the clumsy taxicab and the wraparound sunglasses were too tacky for Richie’s notice.
Nope, all Richie wanted was to blow coke up her nose and blow his dick into her panties.
Jason had even made a case for Brando’s buddy, Trent Gallagher. Supposedly, Trent was jealous of Brando for being promoted over him. Trent was with Brando when Avery was rescued from the burning building. Avery rolled her eyes at the way Jason described Trent’s grinding jealousy at his buddy not only winning a promotion, but getting the beauty in distress. Although to his credit, Jason didn’t think Trent wanted to kill Brando. He only wanted to scare him and had hired the incompetent Ernesto to wave a gun around when it went off.
Then there were the theories about Alida and even Larry Leach being targets. It turned out Larry had been sitting behind Jason and Alida at the fashion show. They had meticulously made a list of every person they knew of who might have wanted either Alida or Larry dead. Foremost would be the relatives and friends of the dead models, but once they included would-be enemies for Larry, the list ballooned to every person he could have cheated out of an investment.
Avery was concerned that Jason could have been the target, but he waved that off saying there were plenty of opportunities to get to him—like when he went hunting upstate. To humor her, he went over every person he imagined to be an enemy, even dragging in the gun shop owner who he claimed had a beef with him for writing a lukewarm review about the lack of ventilation inside the shooting galleries.
As for Avery, when Jason pressed her on what her theory was, all she could think of was that Brando had died because of her. She hated to admit it, but her father was ahead in the polls, and the incumbent congressman felt threatened. She couldn’t see Richie or his father hiring a hitman, but she wouldn’t put it past a donor who supported Overton trying to take her father out of the race by hurting her. Instead, he’d missed and hit Brando, and this year, if he tried again, it could be her.
“You’re deep in thought,” Jason said as he pulled into the parking garage underneath Orson’s building. “Don’t look so worried. I can handle it.”
“Just don’t piss him off,” Avery reminded. “He’s an old man in a wheelchair. He’s also a germaphobe.”
“Good thing, because if he paws over me, I might kill him.” Jason growled. “But I won’t, since you stand to inherit a third of his estate.”
“I don’t want it.” Avery made up her mind so fast it shocked her. “In fact, I’m not doing the show anymore.”
“That won’t go well,” Jason said, putting the car in park. “He’ll remove you from his will.”
“Good riddance.”
“Have you ever tried to quit before?”
“Yes, after Brando died, I called him and told him I could no longer do it. He laughed. Told me to bring someone I didn’t care about.”
“Why do you do it?” Jason’s expression was somber. “What does he have on you?”
“Everything. I’m sure you can guess.”
“I’d rather you told me.”
She almost covered her face, but remembered not to mess up her makeup. “I’d rather you see.”
Jason tried not to let on how worried he was about Avery’s state of mind. She was jittery, sweating, and breathing too fast. If he hadn’t been with her day and night, he would have thought she was on drugs again.
He’d asked Kerry to observe her, and Kerry swore she wasn’t using. But addicts had a way of keeping secrets from even their closest confidantes.
“Ave, it’s going to be okay.” He put his hand over her trembling ones. They were so cold. “Do you want to pray before going in there?”
She snorted. “Oh, Jason, I’m so far from God it isn’t funny. If he’d even listen to me, I just want all of this to be over.”
“We can end it. You tell Orson this is your last show. I’m sure he can find others who are willing to do a private strip show. Why is he fixated on you, especially since you’re not stripping?”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She shook her head and sighed, looking resigned.
He’d never seen her so dispirited, and he made a decision then and there. No matter what he had to do, he would put an end to it.
Except going into a man’s house put all the benefits of self-defense on Orson’s side. The castle doctrine, while weaker in New York than other states, still entitled a homeowner immunity from prosecution if he used deadly force to defend himself within his home.
Jason kissed the top of Avery’s head and gave her a cuddle. “No matter what. I’ll be with you. I promise.”
Her eyes were watery when she looked up at him, as if she were seeing him for the last time.
It had occurred to him that she was using him as bait. The obvious suspect for Brando’s killing, the one he didn’t want to discuss with Avery, was Professor Orson Leach.
He was an old man in love with Avery. His fascination with the male models was not so much a homosexual attraction as one where he imagined himself in the place of the man stripping for Avery. That was why he’d told Avery to bring a man she didn’t care for. He’d been fueled with jealousy at the light of love in Avery’s eyes when she’d reacted to Brando.
Instead of the private show being satisfying to the professor, it had been singularly distasteful to watch the woman he loved
admiring the firefighter she loved more than life. To know that the glow of love in her gaze was reserved for another man—that it would never shine on him.
It would be a bitter pill for any man to swallow. The rejection was so final and sharp. And yet, Avery hadn’t cared for Garm or Longshanks, the models she brought before.
They had also turned up dead, but not shot to death. There was a difference, and Jason was determined to figure it out. Would the professor put a contract on his head after tonight’s show? If so, how would the hitmen get by the security he’d set up at The Edge?
Where there was hate, there would be a way. Jason could not console himself that no one would leak the location. He knew. Avery knew. Alida knew, and Matt knew, as well as the Secret Service agents. He was betting the president knew.
Taking a deep breath, he gave Avery’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and exited the car.
Chapter Forty
The professor's townhouse was located on a tree-lined street. The brick-lined facade was covered with ivy, and the windows were trimmed with ornate cast-iron crowns and scroll edgework. It was a charming historical building with outside fire escapes that were tastefully painted to match the building’s façade.
The marble entry hall was overhung by an enormous golden chandelier full of glittering crystals, and the corridor was festooned with gilded mirrors sporting curlicues of vines and rays of sunburst crowns. Gold-threaded tapestries were hung over richly upholstered wooden furniture that sported animal legs with delicately curved feet.
While Jason gawked at the luxurious furnishings, Avery wanted to jump out of her skin. All this will be over in three hours max. He’ll chat with us first. Have tea and pretend this is a social call. He’ll look over my sketchbook, make coaching remarks, and critique my ideas.
“This way, please.” The butler gestured to the carved double doors of the library. “Professor Leach requests your company for tea.”
Triggered by Love Page 29
