Ivanna had asked her to reconsider for Saul, and she’d relented. He was a good kid who truly wanted to improve himself, and he’d stuck his neck out to warn them about the Leaches. She ended up getting him the photographer’s pass with the promise he would be taking pictures of the guards and guests, not the models. He had a multi-angled lens on his camera that would allow him to take pictures of people while his camera was pointed elsewhere. Besides, she wanted to get on his good side so he could share all of the pictures he took from the year before.
Avery knocked on the partition and announced herself. “Matt, Ivanna, how’s it going?”
“We’re almost ready,” Ivanna answered.
Matt did a rendition of a hawk’s call, but it didn’t come out quite right with his baritone voice. “Aeeehh, aiiiee, I love this getup.”
He raised his hands as if he were about to take off. Long flight feathers were affixed over the backs of his fingers.
Avery gasped at the overall effect. “It’s so realistic. You look like you’re part-hawk and part-man. Ivanna, I love the way you blended the feathers up from his eyebrows.”
“I used makeup to accentuate his piercing blue eyes to make it match,” Ivanna said. “It wasn’t easy to glue each feather and overlap them exactly.”
“The stylist did a great job with the fohawk haircut,” Avery commented. “The hairline blends in so well with the feathers and the way the hair tapers to the neck. Love it.”
Matt was wearing a modern rendition of Cary Grant’s famous North by Northwest single-breasted flannel suit. It was tailored to closely fit Matt’s physique with slanted side pockets to evoke a more active mood. The smooth lines were not interrupted by a handkerchief square in the breast pocket, and pinstripes added to the flair.
Matt would wear the Brando fedora with a silk band on his walk out to The Point with the three-hundred-sixty-degree view, then do a turn around with his arms outstretched, as if he were flying away. He would remove the fedora and swagger back to the transparent floor where his feathered features would be on display for the cameras and audience.
As he made his final turn, he’d throw the Brando fedora, and a lucky guest would catch it, all while being filmed. The video would be uploaded to Avery’s Shopify page where the fedora, along with accessories and a collection of ready-to-wear outfits, would be sold online.
The flash sale would be massive, and Brando’s name and face with the fedora dipped down over one eye would be plastered on every social media page
“Chop. Chop. Ready to roll.” Kerry’s voice snapped Avery out of her reverie.
She jerked her head around at the rousing welcome roar and the snappy beat of the runway music. “Where’s Jason?”
“He checked in but ran out again,” Kerry said. “Finn said he had some last-minute errands to run.”
“He’d better be ready,” she said as she grabbed her clipboard and rushed to the front of the model line. From the side of her eye, Jason swaggered from his dressing area. He gave her a smirk and air-kissed her, then he flexed his muscles. Turning his back, he wagged his way-too-sexy behind at her.
Predictably, he set her on fire, flushing heat through her blood and pulses of lust tingling to the tips of her nipples. The man was too hot to handle.
Pumping up his energy and bursting onto the stage, strutting like he was a lion, the king of the jungle.
Suddenly, Avery was glad she hadn’t gone ahead with the porcupine Mohawk. What the heck was she thinking? Jason didn’t roll up in a ball and shoot barbs at the enemy. He charged like a fearless lion, and there he went, leading the line of models.
She peeked out at them, clasping her hands to her frantically beating heart. Brando’s spirit was in the moves of every model, even the female ones who showed heart, courage, as well as a kindness that transcended death.
Diamante Steele was in the exact middle of the show. She twirled and whirled, her metallic gown full of gems clinking and glittering in the waning sunlight. The videos and photos would be epic. The moment itself transfixed in every soul witnessing her floating above the glass triangle floor—on the very edge of time and space.
Avery held her breath, a mixture of dread and elation keeping her on her toes. Cameras flashed and shutters clicked at machine-gun speed, a continuous barrage following her timeless form, full of grace and glory. She was the angel of the show dedicated to Brando, a link from the classic hero of times past to the warp speed of a machine-enhanced future.
And then the music changed, a hard charging, exciting action sequence, and Diamante floated back up the stairway, coming back to the restaurant while Matt got ready to step out. He was behind a fur-trimmed brunette portraying the huntress. She strode out in jodhpurs and a riding crop—checked and approved by Secret Service.
“Hey, we need to touch up your makeup,” Ivanna said, grabbing Avery. “You keep biting your lip.”
Matt was out, going down the staircase toward the jutting sky deck, but Avery missed his performance. Ivanna and Kerry forced her to keep still as they powdered and dusted, traced and dabbed. She should be getting nervous.
She had stage fright, didn’t she?
She would go alone.
This would be the moment the killer was waiting for if he or she were out there.
But Jason was also out there, as was Finn and the others.
So was Mrs. Bonet and her brothers, Chase and Damon.
And up there, watching all of this with a sexy grin on his face was Brando.
“This is for you, my love.” She blew a kiss skyward as Kerry guided her to the exit of the restaurant.
Cheers and screams roared loud and the rapid-fire of cameras clicking, lights flashing was like being in the center of a fireworks show—right before the big bang at the end.
She tried to keep her face taut, like she’d been taught as a model, but the exuberant spirit, the pulsing music, and the high energy mood she’d set infused her with a rush of emotions and a sense of well-being she’d never experienced before.
She kept one foot in front of the other, trying not to trip up as her breath was snatched away by the magnificent night view from the sky deck. Lights up and down the grand Hudson River, the towers of lower Manhattan all the way up to the George Washington Bridge up north, and the dizzying heights at The Point.
Her love carried her away, and she threw up her hands, trailing streamers of silk. She snapped her head back, exposing her slender neck and puffed out her chest, giving her heart, and shouted, “I heart New York! I love you all.”
And then, she was on the center of the transparent triangle, walking on nothing but air, with tiny headlights on the street below and the twinkling stars above.
She prepared for the fireworks, but nothing happened. Confetti flew like snow flurries, blown by wind machines over the cheering crowd, and colorful spotlights crisscrossed the entire sky deck.
It was a laser show!
She’d done it.
Her models walked out and surrounded her, standing on the solid floor around the glass area.
“You did it, kid.” Jason handed her a mic and patted her back.
The laser show flashed to its grand finale, and the spotlight was trained on her. She waved at the guests who wanted her to make a speech. She wasn’t afraid. Her heart wasn’t flailing, and her vocal cords weren’t frozen.
She could do it. She did it. No more stage fright. No more anything-fright.
She took a deep breath, beaming at all the people around her, and she spoke.
“Thank you, everyone, from the bottom of my heart. We’ve made this show about heroes, in honor of Brando Bonet, but the real heroes are all of you—the people who serve, who protect, and who work and take care of our community. You all are the heroes whom I dedicate my Cocky Heroes line of clothing to. Thank you for making this evening at the Manhattan Fashion Show a walk on The Edge. I love you all.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Jason had no time to enjoy the aftermath of Avery�
��s show. He and Finn had to keep an eye on the after-party. Finn circulated out on the deck while Jason watched backstage.
Avery was so beautiful, dressed for the mid-summer night in a multicolored white sheath dress featuring speckled splashes of pinks, teals, and tangerines. Its stretchy fabric clung to her curves, and the well-tailored darts accentuated her breasts and slender waist.
He would rather stare after her, but he knew he’d be distracted by the back slit showing her shapely legs. He was so proud to see her strut down the steps and out onto The Triangle despite wearing a pair of fire-orange snakeskin stilettos.
Even though Avery’s show was a success, and so far, nothing had gone wrong—especially at her moment of glory dedicating the show to her beloved Brando—Jason had the nagging feeling he’d missed something.
“Have you touched base with Blade?” Finn asked through the earpiece. “Did he explain why he asked Trent to join us?”
“Blade says he knows Trent from his dance class.”
“Dance class?” Finn’s voice cracked with amusement. “In our day, we joined fight clubs. Tell me, do they shave their legs?”
“Yeah, well, he’s in a fight club, too, but he claims dancing lets him meet hot chicks,” Jason said. “Keep your eye on Blade. I’m watching Trent right now, and he’s talking to Ivanna and Saul. I have a bad feeling about those two.”
“Roger that,” Finn said. “Kerry is not leaving Avery’s side, and neither are Matt Swanson and Alida Adams.”
“Matt and Alida only want to bask in Avery’s spotlight,” Jason said. “As long as the killer isn’t after them, Avery should be safe.”
“Joan Bonet is with them, too,” Finn assured.
“Good. Let me see who else speaks to Trent, Ivanna, and Saul. At least the three of them are in one cluster where I can watch them.”
“Over and out,” Finn said.
Jason put his mic on mute and wandered toward the private cabana that Diamante Steele had vacated. It would give him a vantage point to watch without being seen.
The president’s daughter had been whisked away by Secret Service as soon as the show was over, and everyone got their cell phones back.
He checked his messages and saw he had a missed call from his college lab partner, Riley Jewell, who now worked at the crime scene lab.
He called her back. “What do you have?”
“You get right to the point, don’t you?” Riley guffawed at her own joke. She was beautiful, but a tomboy who didn’t wear makeup and preferred to spend her time doing research on whatever in-depth topic she happened to glom onto.
“Yeah, the show went well, and no one died,” Jason said. “Did you find anything suspicious?”
“The quills on your headdress were poison-tipped,” Riley said. “You ever eat pufferfish? Fugu? It’s quite a delicacy in Japan. Apparently, men consume it as a macho rite of passage to see how close to being poisoned they can get.”
Jason wanted to cut to the quick, but Riley was a curious scientist type and filled her life with in-depth research on whatever she was focused on—to the exclusion of other interests. After reading a novel describing the ancient Chinese custom of foot-binding, she’d dug up every dirty detail, down to the powder dusted on the bindings to keep the scarred flesh from rotting alive.
“Never ate those critters. What gives?”
“The pufferfish has a toxin a thousand times deadlier than cyanide. Even a small amount is enough to kill a grown horse, much less a man. Anyway, someone dipped the barbs of your headdress in pufferfish toxin, or tetrodotoxin.”
Jason’s entire scalp prickled, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “How does it cause death?”
“Tetrodotoxin or TTX is a powerful neurotoxin. It paralyzes you, especially the muscles you need to breathe. It also hits your heart, but the first symptoms mimic drunkenness, like slurred, drunken speech. My guess is whoever planted the poison would spot you and Avery together at the after-party or immediately after the show, accidentally bump you so you’re pierced with the quills, and voila, everyone thinks you two were drunk, and you die six hours later when your respiratory system shuts down. No one would suspect a thing because you would be found in bed, either separate or together.”
“Hey, Riley, thanks. I better question the person who designed the headdress. Anything else?”
“I think you were the target, primarily,” Riley said. “Even better, if and when a genius like me figures out the poison, they could say you committed a murder-suicide because you couldn’t get Avery to love you over her memory of Brando.”
This was where he would end the call. Riley had no filter, and she listened to gossip too much.
“Gotta go,” Jason said. “You did good.”
“Right,” she agreed. “By the way, Blade called and wanted to know the results. Is it okay to share it with him?”
“Sure. Tell him to not let Avery out of his sight. I’ll take care of Ivanna and her little crew.” He hung up and realized he’d lost sight of the group of suspects.
Most of the models had cleared out of the restaurant to join the party out on the deck.
Jason put his phone away and rushed out onto the deck. Trent’s height made him stand out, and he was moving toward the glass triangle where people were taking dares to stand over the transparent area or lie down on it for pictures.
Matt Swanson was busy signing autographs and taking selfies with his fans. Alida, who invited her brother Cory, was nearby and talking excitedly with Avery’s brother Damon, the computer game mogul. Avery, Kerry, and Mrs. Bonet were not with them.
From the corner of his eye, Jason spotted Ivanna and Saul walking briskly to the elevators, as if they couldn’t wait to escape. Trent broke away from the people taking selfies and called for them to wait up.
Why were they leaving so fast? Had someone tipped them off? But who?
Jason tapped his earpiece mic to speak. “Finn, where are they? Where’s Kerry?”
“Mrs. Bonet isn’t feeling well, so Avery decided to take her home.”
“Who’s going to drive them? Where are they now?” Jason jogged toward the elevator.
“Her brother Chase went to get the car. Blade and Kerry are with them. What did you find out?” Finn asked.
“Something about the quills.” Jason lunged for the elevator button, but the doors closed right before he could get in.
Hurriedly, he pushed the button, but it was no use. There was no way he could race down the emergency stairway and beat the elevator.
All he could do was repeatedly push the button until another elevator cart arrived. He entered it just as Finn ran up and made it in before the door closed for the one-minute elevator ride down.
“What’s the problem?” Finn asked. “Everything seems okay. Avery was enjoying the spotlight before noticing Mrs. Bonet looking green in the gills.”
“You should have stuck to them like glue,” Jason said.
“Blade’s with them. They’ll be okay,” Finn said. “What are you worried about? The show’s over and we took precautions. You also asked Secret Service to cancel the fireworks, and the building management brought out the laser show instead. The element of surprise undermined anyone who was planning anything during the show.”
“Don’t you get it? Secret Service was here for the show, but now that they’re gone, it’s time for the hit. I can feel it.”
“That’s impossible,” Finn said. “No one is armed.”
“Not with guns, but they might have poison.” He quickly told Finn about the pufferfish poison found on the quills of his headdress. “One of them, most likely Ivanna, could have kept a few of the poisoned quills.”
“Who do we tackle first?” Finn asked.
“Blade will take out Trent,” he said. “You get Saul, and I’ll grab Ivanna.”
“Better warn Blade,” Finn said.
Jason called Blade and told him to shield Avery and Mrs. Bonet against Saul, Ivanna, and Trent.
“I’
ll try,” he said. “But they’re awfully chummy. They’re crowded around each other looking at pictures on a phone.”
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Avery’s voice screeched, followed by the sounds of shuffling and the phone dropping. More shouts, screams, and scuffling could be heard, but Jason couldn’t make out any words.
“They got her,” Jason shouted. “Call nine-one-one. Tell them to meet us at 30 Hudson Yards. Possible injection of tetrodotoxin, or TTX.”
Finn repeated Jason’s comments to the nine-one-one operator who told him to stay on the line.
Jason called Damon. “I need you to call your father. No time to explain. Your sister might have been poisoned by tetrodotoxin, TTX, pufferfish poison. Tell him to call the Army biological weapons lab for monoclonal antibody treatment. Stat.”
The elevator blissfully stopped, and Jason exploded out the opening door. A group of people milled around a collapsed figure.
It was Avery, and she was convulsing and having trouble breathing. Jason swooped down on her and locked his lips over hers, sealing it. He’d breathe for her until help arrived.
Chapter Fifty
Avery was conscious the entire time, but numb, so numb she couldn’t feel her own lips. She was cold, so very, very cold, and she couldn’t talk, couldn’t even breathe.
But she was protected, and Jason was blowing air into her lungs, keeping her alive. Keeping her safe.
She caught his gaze, resolute and concerned, and heard his voice. She could barely feel his hands on her, and she definitely couldn’t move a muscle.
It was like she was a zombie. Half-dead and half-alive. What had happened? One minute, she was gaping at the pictures on Saul’s camera. He’d taken tons of impromptu images, and the next, she felt the pinprick of a needle and her muscles relaxed or stiffened; either way, she lost control and collapsed to the floor of the elevator.
Blade and Trent carried her out and laid her on the cold, hard ground, and Mrs. Bonet fainted in Kerry’s arms. She wasn’t sure where Ivanna and Saul ran off to.
Triggered by Love Page 36
