She sighed. She’d have to find out, to rule it out as relevant to the current investigation. Her phone alerted her to a text message and Ellie picked it up. This was a coincidence she did believe in. Gwen, responding to her earlier text. She apologized for putting Ellie on the spot, but it was unexpected to see her there.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie muttered. She texted Gwen back and asked if she could call her later that evening.
Gwen responded almost immediately in the affirmative along with a time. Lawyers. Ellie rolled her eyes but smiled. She texted “okay, great” back and set her phone down. Hopefully, Marya’s legal situation had nothing to do with the case. Because it would really suck to have to drag Gwen into this.
She went back to proofreading the layouts since Tyler had requested them before the end of the day. Most likely, Marya had delegated that to him, which meant Marya wanted to see them by the end of the day, and the last thing Ellie wanted to do was get on the dragon lady’s bad side. Or rather, worse side.
Liz came back in and handed her a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, they were both engrossed in their tasks, though Ellie hoped that the team would be able to dig some stuff up on the models. She had a feeling there was something going on there, but until she had more information, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. For now, she’d continue to bide her time.
* * *
The door to Tyler’s office was partially open, but Ellie knocked anyway.
“Come in,” he said, and she stepped into the office. He was sitting at his desk, which was covered with glossy photos of models in various runway poses. “Oh, hi,” he said when he saw her. “Is it four already?”
“Five ’til. I can come back.”
“No, no. Sit down.” He smiled and motioned at the chairs across from his desk.
She did, and he must have caught her looking at the photos, because he said, “Publicity stills. People like to get signed photos of the models—especially the more well-known ones. That’s one of the things you’ll be doing on Saturday, is making sure photos are available for signing. Since we’re past the crazy that is Fashion Week, the models have agreed to do some autographs.”
“Signing before or after the runway?”
“After. And then there’s a cocktail reception near the venue.” He clicked a few things on his computer, and the printer started to whir. “Here.” He handed her the two sheets of paper the printer ejected. “Outline of how this is going to work tomorrow.”
She took the sheets and glanced through them. “So basically, this is one of those be-available-but-unobtrusive things.”
He laughed. “I do like how you distill things to the essence. Yes, that’s it. And Marya does allow staff to attend the reception afterward, and no, you don’t have to work it. She believes in working hard and then relaxing a bit.”
Really? Marya Hampstead relaxes?
At her expression, he smiled. “Yes, the rumors about Marya Hampstead can be true, but she also recognizes the value of treating staff well when they earn it.” He smoothed his tie, an extremely stylish metallic blue in a thin cut, like what men wore in the sixties and like what Ellie was wearing now.
Interesting choice of words: “Can be” true. So Marya wasn’t always a dragon lady. Ellie skimmed the sheets of paper again.
“The seating has already been arranged, so you won’t have to deal with that or escorting anyone.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll let you know if that changes, but I doubt it. Don’t worry about it. Just ask for Liz at the venue Saturday. And I’ll be there, of course, so you can always find me with questions. My cell phone number is on the first page, but when you arrive tomorrow, you’ll get a headset, which is the best way to communicate at these events—have you used them before?”
If he only knew. “Yeah. A while ago,” she fibbed.
“They’re easy. And they’re lightweight and come with clips, so you won’t have to worry about taking it off your jacket or belt or whatever constantly. Just click and talk.”
“Wow. I guess I never really thought about all that goes into doing an event like this. Is it true that the big names get the front seats?”
“Yes. Those are known celebrities and people of influence, as I call them. So you may not recognize some, but if they’re in the first row, that’s what they are.”
“Is there some kind of orientation session before I do this?”
“Sometimes. Not really for this. Fashion Weeks definitely. But this show isn’t that big, and I figured you’d want to experience this before your internship ends, so I’m squeezing you in, and we’ll guide you through. Besides, I think you can handle it.” His cell phone rang, and he glanced at it and then looked at her, apologetic. “I’ll be around part of the day tomorrow. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
He nodded and answered his phone. Ellie got up and stepped into the hallway, leaving his door like she’d found it.
“Hey, Ellie.”
“Hi,” she said to Khalil, who really liked bowties, clearly. The one he had on today was burgundy with small white dots, and it looked really good with his pewter-colored shirt. Ellie winced internally that she was actually assessing people’s clothes and color schemes. “Tyler’s on the phone,” she said since it appeared Khalil was waiting to talk to him.
“I figured.” He held a bunch of papers and photographs. “Things get crazy before a show.”
“So I see.” She was about to say something else when he looked past her shoulder and straightened.
“Waiting on Tyler, Ms. H.”
Ellie turned, steeling herself for what she knew would be the extremely attractive sight of Marya. “Ms. Daniels,” she said in greeting.
“Ma’am.” Ellie nodded once.
Marya seemed to be studying her again, but Ellie met and held her gaze, and it was delicious. Ellie’s thighs felt like they might burst into flame.
Tyler opened his door wider. “Okay. I’m off the phone.”
Marya broke the moment with Ellie to look at him as Khalil brushed past them to go into Tyler’s office. Marya looked back at Ellie, the hint of a smile gracing the corners of her mouth. “Ma’am,” Marya said, as if trying the word out for the first time. “That’s the second time you’ve called me that.” The smile unfurled a little, sparking in her eyes, and Ellie wondered if her entire body would burst into flame.
“Do I truly strike you as that?” Marya regarded her, nothing beyond interest in her tone.
“Now that you mention it, no,” Ellie said.
“Good.” Her gaze seared into Ellie’s again, that damn Mona Lisa smile hovering on her mouth. And then she entered Tyler’s office and shut the door, leaving Ellie in the hallway, burning in places she didn’t know she had. She went back to her office, and it occurred to her that Marya had remembered the other time Ellie had called her “ma’am.” She shut her computer down and gathered her things.
CHAPTER 6
Ellie dropped her bag onto the floor and collapsed on the couch. It hadn’t been broken in by anybody sleeping or sitting on it for hours at a time, so it was still a little stiff, but she was tired and didn’t care. And she was also tired of takeout, but she hadn’t had time to get any real food for this apartment.
She did have beer in the fridge, so she rolled off the couch and retrieved a bottle. Ellie watched the clock on her phone. Gwen, like Marya, preferred appointments to be right on the agreed-upon time. The thought made Ellie wonder if she had some kind of weird thing for uptight women.
Seven o’clock showed on her phone, so she called Gwen and sank back down on the couch and put her feet on the coffee table.
“Hi,” Gwen answered. “Good to see you today,” she said, getting right to the point.
“Yeah, sorry about all this. I’m on assignment and clearly didn’t expect to run into you.”
She laughed. “I know I can’t ask you the particulars, but I will say that you look fabulous. I almo
st wish you’d dressed like that more often when we were together.”
Ellie smiled as she took a drink. “Thanks, I think. Anyway, no, I can’t really tell you the particulars, but unfortunately, I have to ask you about the legal matter you handled for Marya Hampstead.”
Silence. Uh-oh.
“You know I can’t discuss cases or clients,” Gwen finally said, in her quiet professional tone.
Double uh-oh. Another wall had just gone up. “I get that, but this is an active investigation, and I just want to make sure that whatever the legal matter was, it has nothing to do with what I’m doing.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
Triple uh-oh. Time to hedge. “Okay, fine. Because it’s you and nobody else, we’re looking into clothing knock-offs out of China, and we got some complaints from some of the higher-ups in the fashion industry. We’re trying to figure out who might be bringing them into the country. Fashion Forward is letting us borrow them as a staging area. And you did not hear that from me. I will deny everything. So will they.” Oh, my God. Best lie ever. She should do improv.
“Oh,” Gwen said, and Ellie could hear the relief behind it. “No, this was about a contract dispute with an overseas modeling agency.”
“Good to know,” Ellie said, with her own obvious relief. “So how exactly did you get involved in that? I didn’t realize you were attorney to the fashion industry. Or is that a new development?”
“Nothing like that. I met Marya at a fundraising gala in June—I seem to meet a lot of people that way—and I was introduced as an attorney. She requested my card, which I provided, not thinking much about it. A few days later she called and asked if I might consider helping them with the dispute.”
Marya no doubt did some research on Gwen before she called. And June was good. That was almost eight months after Ellie and Gwen had split up, so Marya would have no reason to associate the two of them together. “Any particular reason she called you, out of all the attorneys who were probably at that gala?”
Silence. Shit.
“Jesus, El. Will you stop being a cop for once?”
Ellie started to retort, then realized that was a bad idea. “I’m sorry,” she said instead. “That was out of line.” She grimaced and took another swallow of beer.
“Yes, it was. And apology accepted. But since you asked, I’m guessing her board probably suggested it, since I know two people on it and one of them introduced us at the gala. I do corporate contracts and issues all the time. It’s not that far afield to handle something like this, and as it turned out, it was easily dealt with and settled and everybody’s happy.”
“Congratulations. If only they were all that simple.”
Gwen chuckled. “Right? So how are you otherwise?”
She stifled a sigh. Gwen wasn’t trying to pry. She cared, and it always made Ellie uncomfortable, that someone would. Especially an ex. “Okay. Pretty busy.”
“And?”
“Nothing much else to tell.”
“How’s your family?”
“Fine.”
“El, it’s me. It’s okay to talk to me, even though we’re not partners anymore. I would like to be a friend. And that’s what friends do. They talk.”
Ellie set her empty bottle on the coffee table. “I know you’re right, but I guess I still have a hard time—you know.”
“Opening up. And again, you used to talk about this stuff with me. I’m still me. You’re still you. I still care about you, and I still like you. And you haven’t hung up yet, which means you do want to talk.”
Dammit. She was right. Ellie stretched out on the couch and stared at the ceiling, a generic white like practically every motel in America, which was how this place felt. Impersonal and bland. “Okay. Mom’s fine. She started taking pottery classes, and she’s loving it so far.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. You know she’s always been into crafts. I just really hope she doesn’t get so into it that she inundates me with crazy-shaped cups and bowls.”
Gwen laughed again. “Maybe she’ll give them to your sister instead.”
“She’ll probably give them to us both. And the cousins. Probably Gran, too. We’ll have so much damn pottery we’ll be able to have a booth at a flea market, doing the local art thing. And look out. You might get a set for Christmas.”
“I’ll treasure it always,” Gwen said, still laughing.
“Yeah, well, you’ve been warned.” And Ellie realized it was actually nice to talk to her like this. Having a shared past meant they’d already gotten through a lot of the bullshit small talk. “So how are things with your folks?”
“They still argue about where to take their next vacation. And they do still ask about you.”
“That’s kind of sweet.”
“They like you, El. No big surprise. You’re actually really likable when you’re not—”
“Being an asshole cop.”
“Not quite my word choice, but close.” She laughed.
“I seem to not be able to turn that off all the time.”
“Goes with the territory. The same could be said for me and asshole lawyers.”
“No comment.”
“Hey, now. I do try to turn it off.”
Ellie chuckled. “I know. I’m still working on mine.”
“I’m glad. Speaking of the cop thing, as a tip, Marya’s not what you think.”
“Uh…” What the hell?
“That is, she has a rep, but it’s mostly for show.”
“Okay. And that means what, exactly?” Please, Gwen, don’t be running arms deals with Marya, Ellie chanted in her head.
“Just don’t put too much stock in what you hear.”
“So rumors of her asshole status are exaggerated. Good to know.” She took another swallow of beer.
“The point is, I rather like Marya, so whatever you’re doing over there, please try not to be too cop.”
Ellie laughed. “Seriously? Are you warning me or are you trying to help me?”
“Maybe a bit of both. She can be an excellent ally. It might be good to have her as that.”
“Noted. Thanks for the tip. Not that cops and fashion ever mix.”
“Start thinking in terms of allies rather than adversaries,” Gwen said, cryptic. “And I have to go. I’ve got a thing tonight. Thanks for talking. And don’t worry. Your last name is Daniels until you tell me otherwise.”
“Which reminds me—can you do me a favor and not hang out with Marya for, like, a month or so?”
“Oh. You probably have a manufactured story about your past for this internship.” She said it as a statement. Gwen was all too familiar with how some of Ellie’s past ops had gone down.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“It’s your job. I’ll be careful.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate that. And maybe I am ready to have lunch with you. Or coffee.”
“I would love that,” she said, and Ellie heard her smile.
“Okay. Keep in touch. And take care.”
“You too. Bye.”
Ellie hung up. That wasn’t so bad. Except for lying about what the investigation actually was, but it was a small lie in the great scheme of things, and it protected everybody. There were days, however, when she didn’t like the lying, so when this was over, she’d square it with Gwen. She set her phone on the coffee table and shut her eyes for a moment, trying to chill out after what had been kind of an emotionally weird day. She mulled what Gwen had said about Marya. That added to the weirdness. So maybe Marya wasn’t an ice queen? At least not all the time? Well, so what? Not like it mattered, when all was said and done. She relaxed, pondering the case.
Her phone rang, but it sounded like it was far away. Ellie jerked and looked around. What the hell? Shit, she’d fallen asleep, and her phone was both buzzing and ringing. Finally, she realized it was Rick.
“Hey,” she answered. “What’s up?” She rubbed her eyes, trying to sound more awake than she felt.<
br />
“You dressed?”
“Uh—”
“You’re going to a club.”
Ellie was now fully awake. “What?”
“A club. Dancing. You.”
“Dude, I don’t do that shit anymore.”
“You are tonight. Marya and her entourage are at Lucky in SoHo right now. I’ve got a car on the way to get you.”
“Why—”
“Lyev Koslov was seen going in a few minutes after Hampstead, and that was ten minutes ago.”
Ellie was off the couch and heading for her closet. “So what’s the play? Am I going in as Daniels?” She slid the closet door open and examined her wardrobe, which had been greatly enhanced recently.
“Yes. And you’ll have company. Sue will meet you there. Be ready in fifteen.”
“Damn, you don’t give a woman much time to get ready. Maybe that’s why you’re having a hard time dating.”
“Maybe I’ll switch to dating lesbians.”
“Ha, ha. Some of us are into the primp city thing. I’m not one of them, but I know some.”
“Fourteen minutes, Els. Out.”
He hung up, and Ellie checked the clock on her phone. Almost ten-thirty. At least she’d gotten a nice nap. She tossed her phone on the bed and rummaged through the blouses and shirts. She selected one of her own, a black button-down in a man’s cut, and a pair of soft grey trousers with tapered legs that looked really good with her black wingtips. She put her compression holster T-shirt on and slid her Glock into the pocket for it just under her left armpit and put the black shirt on over it. Whoever came up with these holster tees had her vote for president. They were form-fitting, and compressed the lines of the gun so it was really hard to tell if someone had one under a blouse, even if that person didn’t have a jacket or blazer on.
She finished dressing and ran her fingers through her hair, which was growing out pretty nicely. Sort of a tousled carefree look that she never would have thought would look good on her, but it did. She completed her outfit with a slim-fitting black leather jacket. It was a club, after all.
Ellie doubted that Marya would be able to pick her out of a club crowd. She wouldn’t be expecting her there, so even if Marya spotted her, Ellie was out of context and dressed differently than at work. That was her theory, anyway, but Marya was observant, so her theory might be out the window. She spritzed on some cologne, checked her hair one more time, and stepped out of the apartment into the interior hallway of the building. After she locked up, she went downstairs to wait for her ride. Maybe they’d finally get a break in this damn case.
If Looks Could Kill Page 6
