“I’m not playing games,” Jason said, getting in her face. “You wired Avery’s bathing suit. High-tech spy gear. Are you blackmailing the Leaches?”
“You know what I heard?” She lifted an eyebrow over her swollen eyelid. “That you were the one who hired Ernesto to shoot Brando, and you shot Ernesto to keep him from talking.”
“You know what I want to know?” He leaned against her wall like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Which one of the guys you’re slumming with beat you?”
“No one beats me.”
“Explain this.” He prodded her lip, and she winced. “Was Larry pissed at you for letting us get away? Or was it the firefighter? Is he upset the two of you were fired from the show?”
“All you need to know is that I don’t suspect you,” she said. “You are chasing the same people I am.”
“Care to share who?”
“You go first.”
Since she’d dropped the gauntlet, he decided to throw the most unlikely culprit and see if he could make it stick.
“Avery’s father.”
Her eyes widened. It looked like she hadn’t considered him. “Case?”
“Your turn.” He wasn’t about to share his thoughts with a person with motives he couldn’t determine.
“Trent Gallagher,” she said.
“Case?” he imitated her. “I think you’re lying. He was too young to be the secret offender Orson Leach was protecting.”
“You think it was the man who molested her, and you believe it could be her father.”
“I’d hate to think that, but the Leaches are close to the Cockburns, and Avery said they socialized a lot.” He bent his head to her level and gave her a menacing stare. “Why do you suspect Trent?”
“I saw him out drinking with your partner, Blade. When I asked Blade, he said Trent was pumping him for information. Like he wanted to know about the murder weapon. Where Ernesto got the gun, stuff like that.”
“Where did Ernesto get his gun?”
She raised an eyebrow. “If you hired him, wouldn’t you know?”
“If I hired him, I’d make sure he knew how to use a real gun.” There, he’d dropped the bomb. If Ernesto was using a toy gun, then someone swapped the gun either at the crime scene or later on in the evidence room.
If the chief was covering up for someone famous, he would have seen to it that the guns were switched. Since Tatiana was connected to the police department, and she was the one who put him on leave of absence, she’d likely run back to the perp and tell him Jason Burnett suspected the gun was switched.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” she said. “Let me give you some advice. Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Which one of your boyfriends or should I say men you’re either investigating or blackmailing did this to you?”
“Why do you care? It’s part of the job.” She shrugged and put her hand on the doorknob, signaling the conversation was over. “Are you going to get all overprotective on me like you are with Avery Cockburn?”
“Nah, you can take care of yourself,” he said.
“So can she,” Tatiana retorted. “Professional advice. You can’t rescue everyone, and you can’t be responsible for a woman who’s being abused. She has to make her own decision. All you can be is supportive. It’s not your fault if you can’t rescue her.”
“I’m not trying to rescue her, but I’m damn well going to protect her—with my life. You tell whoever it is you’re either spying on or working for that I will find them and make them pay for Brando’s death.”
He grabbed the doorknob from her and walked out of her place. He hated to bother Mrs. Bonet, but he had to ask her a burning question.
Minutes later, he had his answer.
Joan had filled him in, reluctantly, on Brando’s doubts about whether he could help Avery to deal with her past.
He hadn’t shared with his mother the full extent of her issues, but he had said he was going to get help for Avery and that he would see to it that whoever was responsible would be brought to justice.
Mrs. Bonet had guessed that Avery had been abused by someone important, but of course, she did not want to speculate.
She had also urged Brando to propose to Avery so she would know he loved and supported her.
It was time to find out what Brando did before the fashion show. Who did he talk to, and who got spooked?
Chapter Forty-Seven
Dinner was both a blessing and a disaster. It all depended on perspective.
Avery enjoyed the interplay between Matt and Joan, but she was downright disgusted by Matt’s handsiness. The football player’s fingers were all over her, either running down her arm or trying to feel her pantiliner or touching her face.
And then there were the cameras with Alida in back motioning them to kiss. It was awkward to the max, but at the end, she thought, screw Alida and the fake dating story, and gave Matt a “stop” gesture by holding her palm in front of his fish lips.
He wasn’t happy, but he had an appointment with Ivanna to get his clothes on and feathers pasted. Good riddance.
By the time Avery arrived at The Edge, every nerve of hers was on the edge of breaking down. This was it. The big moment for Brando. The large banner featuring his handsome face was hung at the entrance to the deck, visible when the guests alighted from the elevator.
Since the upper deck restaurant was closed, they used its dining area as the “backstage.” It was a little weird, because the models would exit the restaurant, descend the steps to the triangular jutting sky deck, walk in a straight line to the farthest corner of the deck, then turn around and stop on the transparent floor to be photographed, before sashaying up the steps to the restaurant. The guests would be seated near the thick glass walls on two sides the deck, and the photographer’s “pit” would be between the base of the steps and the base of the triangular transparent floor.
The Secret Service agents were out in full force, and there was one stationed at every corner, as well as several in the restaurant and on the upper deck leading down to the sky deck.
Avery’s palms were sweaty, and “what-ifs” cycled through her brain, going through every snag she might encounter.
“Hey, girl, give me a smile,” Kerry said after she walked through the metal detector. “Ivanna just texted and said the models are on their way. I’ve got all the clothes racks numbered in sequence order, and everyone’s animal effects are in a hatbox next to their clothes.”
“Did they practice putting them on?”
“Yes, although she’s going to personally glue Matt’s feathers on his forehead. She’s with him right now.”
“I can’t believe she got them done,” Avery said. “I’m glad she wasn’t really hurt.”
Avery wasn’t ready to process how she felt about Ivanna, but if Ivanna was truly innocent, it might be a good time to give her an incentive to work with her. She’d watch and see how the effects worked out in the show, whether the critics loved them or panned them.
“I’ve got this, all except Jason’s,” Kerry said. “He’s not going to want to wear that Mohawk down the back of his head and neck.”
“He’s determined to be difficult,” Avery said. “Let’s take a look at what Ivanna came up with. Maybe I can convince him once he sees it.”
Avery walked past the bar, around a large floor-to-ceiling aquarium to the back of the restaurant. She unzipped the garment bag holding Jason’s hunting outfit. It consisted of a tweed jacket with slanted pockets, a conservative plaid shirt, buckskin breeches, and boots. Instead of a fedora hat, Jason would wear a row of quills fanning out from his forehead and trailing down his neck.
“I don’t see the headdress,” Kerry said. “Why is it missing?”
“They should be right here in the hatbox.” Frustration bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. “I can’t believe they’re missing. I should have kept Trent as a spare. I bet he would wear the quills.”
“Jason said Trent was seen with Ernesto in a picture from last year.”
“Jason suspects everyone.” Avery flipped through the rest of the boxes and garment bags in case the quills were hidden somewhere else. “Obviously, Ernesto mixed in with some of the spectators. Trent and Jayla were Brando’s guests, so they had a legit reason for being in the crowd.”
“Maybe they saw something.” Kerry’s eyes lit like she had an idea. ““Do you believe Ivanna when she says Ernesto had a toy gun?”
“Toy guns are plastic,” Avery said. “It would get through the metal detector.”
“If Ernesto didn’t shoot Brando, then who did?” Kerry voiced the question that had been circling Avery’s mind the way a vulture circled a dying animal.
“Someone must have switched the guns,” Avery said. “You’d think people were taking pictures.”
“Not when everyone was screaming and running away,” Kerry said.
“I wonder if Saul knows more than he’s saying.” Could it be he’d seen the perp? Or had taken a picture? If so, why was he holding on to it? Why had he lied and said he wasn’t at the show?
“Finn!” Kerry spotted her man at the door. He entered with two other men, who were wearing cowboy hats.
One of them was Trent Gallagher.
“What is he doing here?” Avery asked as she moved with Kerry to greet the men.
“I’m Blade Camden,” the man in the middle said. He grabbed her hand and shook it hard. “Jason asked me to be an extra pair of eyes and ears. Brought my buddy, Trent, who I’m sure you already know.”
“Yes, we’re acquainted.” She extricated her hand from Blade’s and gave Trent a smile. “We had a mix up with the fashion press. They billed this show as all new models, fresh faces not seen before. One of the press thought you were a model last year.”
“It’s okay,” Trent said. “Tatiana was more disappointed than I was, but I’m here anyway to honor Brando. Everyone at the station wants me to get an autograph from Matt Swanson.”
“Are you here to help us with security?” Kerry asked.
“Jason said I could bring backup,” Blade replied. “I figure Trent is perfect. Besides, if there’s a fire, he’ll come in handy.”
Pinpoints of sweat spiked over Avery’s skin, and she wondered if she should say anything. But at the same time, Jason was suspicious of everyone.
“Well, guys, we should let Avery and Kerry finish checking the outfits,” Finn said. “Blade, you’re going to be out on the deck with me, and Trent will stay backstage with Jason.”
“I thought I was supposed to stay backstage,” Blade said.
“You’re a cop. You’re better at reading people,” Finn explained. “Let me show you where the guests are sitting.”
Finn and Blade walked out of the restaurant to visit the protruding deck.
Avery and Kerry turned toward the clothes racks, and Trent followed them. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
After passing through the metal detectors and being wanded by Secret Service, Jason and the other models entered the elevator that would take them a hundred floors up the Hudson Yards skyscraper.
Avery’s text bothered him. Trent is here. Your partner Blade brought him for backup.
What the hell?
His first instinct was to call Blade and yell at him, but he wasn’t going to be alone at any time during the show. Bathroom breaks had been taken at the art school, and because of security, no one would be allowed into a bathroom until they exited the building at the end of the show.
Fortunately, fashion shows didn’t last long. Most of the work had already taken place. Days, weeks, and months of preparation, followed by an hour of makeup, dressing, and styling, then a sixty-second walk for each model—all over in twenty minutes max.
He texted Avery. I’m in the elevator. Will be there shortly.
She texted back. Do you know what happened to your quill Mohawk?
He knew, but he wasn’t going to admit it to her. Not before the show. He needed her cooperation to keep her safe.
Instead of answering, he turned off his phone. He’d later on claim that Secret Service had collected his phone, which they were about to do as soon as they got off the elevator.
The more pressing problem was the unexpected appearance of Trent and figuring out why Blade would have volunteered him.
When Tatiana reported that Trent and Blade had met for drinks, he’d been shocked. Blade had never mentioned meeting up with one of Brando’s friends. But would Blade have known Trent was Brando’s friend? What if Trent were the one who’d initiated the relationship for the sole purpose of pumping information?
Oftentimes, the perpetrator couldn’t stay away from his crime scene and was addicted to engaging law enforcement to find out everything about the investigation.
Jason didn’t have time to analyze Trent’s motives, because as soon as they got off the elevator, they passed through security and checked in their phones. They lined up in the order they’d appear. Kerry handed each model a number, directing them to the clothes rack and partition where they would change, get made up, and prepare for the walk.
Avery was at his booth.
“You didn’t answer me,” she said. “Your quill headdress is missing.”
“I’m relieved.” He chuckled. “I guess I got lucky.”
“No, I got unlucky.” She wrung her hands and rocked nervously on her toes. “All the animal effects are missing. They must have gotten left behind at the art school, and there’s no time to fetch them.”
“You’ll save some time with makeup then,” Jason pointed out. “Hey, it’s going to go well. I know it.”
“You don’t know,” she said. “Also, your partner brought Trent. I can’t see him hurting Brando or anyone else, but why did you ask Blade to bring a guest?”
“He volunteered, and I didn’t think he could find someone who’d pass Secret Service checks,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep an eye out on him, and I won’t leave your side.”
He kissed the top of her head. She always smelled so fresh and clean. He let himself relax a bit before he had to get dressed.
“It’ll be over soon, and everyone’s going to be cheering your success. You’ll see. It’s going to be perfect.”
“I wish I could believe nothing bad will happen.”
He folded her into his arms and held her, rubbing her back. “Believe it. Relax, and enjoy your success.”
“What if I get stage fright? I’m the last one, and I have to stand on that glass triangle for the fireworks.”
“Do you want me to stand with you?”
“No! If someone’s shooting at me, I don’t want you hurt.”
That did it. He was going to insert himself no matter what, and he was going to have the fireworks show canceled.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Okay, okay, I’ve got this,” Avery repeated the mantra to herself. She was the inspiration for the show, and she was the one setting the mood.
It was a high energy event, full of vitality, a show of strength and protection, a tribute to Brando’s life, and a message to convey the love in his huge heart.
Avery went down the line of models, high-fiving them. “Looking great. You’re kicking ass today.”
“We’re all flying high over The City,” the perky blonde who sometimes dated her brother said, resplendent in a shimmering evening gown trimmed with fluttery iridescent butterfly-colored scales. “The Edge is way cooler than The Garden. Can you believe it? We’re looking down on the Empire State Building.”
“The view is out of the world,” a male model wearing a tailored tux and top hat held his arms up as if enveloping the moon. “Wait until it gets dark. The lights go on and on.”
“Remember, the mood is like charging into a burning building. You’re amped. There’s no fear. You are the hero. You are the biggest badass in the universe. Beast mode with only one goal. Rescuing the one person or pet you love the most. And you are
so very sexy, oozing with animal magnetism—even without the accessories, just remember your animal and imagine you embody that superpower.”
“I’m a shark!” the model wearing the tux shouted.
“What’s so heroic about a porcupine?” a female model giggled. “I heard he’s the one who misplaced all the masks and crowns.”
“Sounds prickly to me,” another model piped in. “I’m glad I got pictures during the fitting.”
“You still have your butterfly wings,” the male said to Svetlana who was glittering in butterfly colors.
“It’s attached to my gown.” She held out her arms and fluttered.
“We will all be flying over The City like Blue Angels. Think of the viral moments on InstaDirt!” A brunette dressed in a patchwork blending all the shades of blue held up her ancient digital camera for a selfie. She was smart enough to know her cell phone would be confiscated.
Meanwhile, the fashion photographers who had been authorized to be backstage were setting up poses near where the president’s daughter would appear from her private dressing cabana, a bulletproof, climate-controlled enclosure where her makeup artists were busy with her diamond encrusted and mesh steel evening gown.
Avery joined in with the picture taking crowd, making sure to high-five and A-frame hug the models, encouraging them to be upbeat and surging with energy. She’d set the stage, but she couldn’t help but worry about Jason.
After dashing in and getting dressed, he rushed off to speak to security, and he wasn’t back. The show was about to start and he was the lead-off model.
She made an escape when Diamante stepped out of her cabana. The oohs and aahs as well as swell of voices admiring the president’s daughter gave Avery a chance to sneak away. She had to check on Matt. She’d rushed an order of hawk feathers after Ivanna’s stash went missing, and she was able to get a pass for Ivanna to do him up, but boy would Jason blow his top if he knew.
Triggered by Love Page 35
