by Phoebe Conn
Shoeboxes were stacked to the side, each open to show a left shoe. Ana picked a black heel with a high lace vamp that hugged her ankle. “Let me go to the door before I put this on or I might not get there safely.” She moved to her place, propped her crutches against the wall behind the door, took hold of it and removed her flat. Before she could wiggle her toe into the party shoe, Lucien knelt at her feet.
“Let me help you,” he exclaimed. “Just like Cinderella. I always design my shoes with a princess in mind, and you’d make a lovely princess.”
She held her breath as he slid his hand over her ankle, but he quickly fit the shoe on her foot and stood. “Thank you. Do you want me to look as though I’m peeking from behind the door, or coming around it?”
Pierre stood back to judge. “She ought to peek, don’t you think, Lucien? Let’s make it saucy so all we’ll get is a hint of her figure and your magnificent shoe.”
Lucien moved back to be out of the way, but his glance remained on Ana. “We have so many ideas for poses, but I don’t want to tire you, so we might not finish today.”
Ana smiled as though it were no concern. The man’s shoes were gorgeous, but if he were a fan of Mapplethorpe’s, he could easily have backed Jaime’s nude project. Knowing how badly that had ended gave her chills. Suspicions weren’t clues, however, so a second day might be worth it to provide information Montoya could actually use.
Lucien checked his gold Rolex often, and at one brought the shoot to a close. “Your agent said you’d be available for two days. I want to dress you in bright colors tomorrow. I’m thinking red, or maybe greens and blues. Let’s talk it over while we have lunch.”
The dining table was set with white damask and crystal, and a chef waited at the head of the table. “I always bring Etienne with me when I come to Spain. I love Spanish food, but there’s nothing like familiar flavors from home.”
Pierre and Nanette disappeared together; the table was set for two. Lucien helped Ana into her chair and set her crutches aside. Etienne returned to the kitchen, and his white-coated assistant brought a soup tureen to the table and filled their bowls with a mushroom soup with a bouillon base.
“This is one of my favorites,” Lucien said. “Will you have wine now that you’ve finished working?”
“Thank you, but I prefer not to drink during the day.” She smiled as though she were sincerely sorry to miss whatever expensive vintage he’d chosen.
“Then I must invite you to come for dinner soon. You’re not wearing a ring, so should I assume the rumor you’ve married Alejandro Vasquez is untrue?”
He was an attractive man, and his teasing smile made him look harmless, but Ana remained on guard. “Our situation is complicated. Do you go out for walks in the park? The Museum of Modern Art is close.”
“I’ve been there. It’s an interesting collection, but I prefer the French museums. You must have been to France in your travels.”
“Yes, many times.” She kept silent about her mother and stepfather, and the conversation remained focused on art. While she didn’t prompt him, he spoke of Mapplethorpe on his own.
“I collect modern photography. Perhaps you recognized the Mapplethorpe photos in my bedroom.”
With his accent, he made the word bedroom sound like an invitation. “I did. He was a master of black-and-white and died much too soon. I’m interested in photography myself, and may someday turn it into a career.”
“Really, it would be a shame for you not to be in front of the camera.”
They were served a thick slice of roast lamb with small parsley potatoes and green beans. She sat back and stared at her plate. “I’m so sorry, I should have mentioned I’m a vegetarian when you first asked me to stay.”
“I had no idea.” Lucien looked up at Etienne’s assistant. “Please remove Miss Santillan’s plate and replace it with something she’d enjoy.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have spoken up earlier.” She certainly would have had she not been so distracted by her companion. At dinner parties, she could leave the meat on her plate and no one would notice, but with only two of them, Lucien would ask why she’d not eaten her lamb.
Lucien touched her hand. “Please, don’t be embarrassed. Too often I assume others enjoy what I do, and I appreciate a reminder to be more considerate.”
A new plate swiftly appeared with sliced fruit substituted for the lamb. She ate a green bean and exclaimed at the flavor. She hadn’t worn a watch because they were too often misplaced during shoots, but Lucien took such small bites she feared it would be late afternoon before she could leave for home. Etienne served heavenly berry pastries for dessert, but she needed heaps of whipped cream to swallow each bite.
When she at last said good-bye to Lucien, she pretended an interest in his limo, and memorized the license plate before he helped her slide in. She called Alejandro and spoke as though she didn’t care if the chauffeur overheard. “I’m finished working for the day and on my way home. See you soon.” She ended the call before Alejandro could question her, and he surprised her by being there when she reached her condo. He nodded to dismiss the chauffeur and opened the door of Ana’s building to escort her in.
“You needn’t have come, but now that you’re here, I need your opinion.” She went to the security desk and asked to see the security tapes she’d studied when she’d wanted to know who’d sent her presents. Henry recalled the dates and put them on the screen.
Ana held Alejandro’s arm. “Lamoreaux sent me several presents, including Romeo and Juliet. You can’t see the chauffeur’s face in any of the shots, but he doesn’t look anything like the man who just brought me home, does he?”
Alejandro leaned against the counter to study the images. “No, this is a taller man, broader in the shoulder and more muscular. He’s tucking his chin to hide his face. He could have been the man who came to the hospital.”
“You think so? It makes me wonder what prompted Lamoreaux to hire a new chauffeur. Thank you, Henry. Let’s go upstairs and decide what to do.”
As the elevator doors closed, Alejandro pulled her into a lingering kiss. “Were you trying to scare me to death this morning?”
“No, that’s not my idea of fun.” Ana waited until Fatima had made coffee before she explained how uncomfortable she’d become working with Lucien Lamoreaux. “There was nothing unusual about today’s shoot, but he’s a wealthy man who could have backed Jaime Campos’s nudes, although that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with the murder, does it?”
Fatima brought a plate of hazelnut meringue cookies to the dining table and surveyed Alejandro with a coldly disapproving glance before returning to the kitchen.
“What did you tell her?” he whispered.
“The truth, but that’s a story for another day. Do you think there’s a reason to call Montoya, or should I wait to see what I can discover tomorrow?”
“I don’t know which would be worse, calling Montoya or for you to risk going back.” He reached for her hand. “That Lamoreaux has Mapplethorpe photos might merely be a coincidence, but that he’s hired a new chauffeur could be significant. Montoya could get information on the former chauffeur that might lead somewhere. We ought to tell him.”
“I’d hate to go to the police station.” She picked up one of the light meringues and took a bite of the heavenly fluff. “These are so good, Fatima. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the housekeeper called from the kitchen.
After worrying about Ana all day, Alejandro had no appetite for sweets. “Let’s make him come here. I still have his number.”
“Let me talk to him.” She gave the detective a call to inquire about the case, and when he had nothing new to report, she told him she might have discovered something. He came directly to her home.
Dressed in dark gray, he looked as smugly proper as ever and paced while Ana described her newfound suspicions about Lucien Lamoreaux. She handed him the limo’s license plate number, and he nodded thoughtfully. “We
weren’t able to get clear prints from the clipboard the man dropped at the hospital, but it’s possible he thought we could and left town. Thank you for the limousine license. I know just how to use it. Tomorrow an officer will go to Lamoreaux’s apartment to inquire about unpaid traffic tickets. They’ll have your address and a time when you were receiving gifts, so a ticket could be plausible. Lamoreaux will undoubtedly claim to know nothing about any traffic tickets, and the officer will inquire about his chauffeur.” He stopped and turned toward her and Alejandro.
“Go back and work with him again tomorrow so he won’t connect you with an investigation of his chauffeur.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Alejandro argued. “Maybe Lamoreaux is deep into the porn industry. He could be far more dangerous than a women’s shoe designer.”
“You could come with me,” Ana suggested. “Lucien asked about you today, so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were with me.”
Alejandro glanced between them. “What do you want me to do, search the place while you’re working?”
“No, absolutely not,” Montoya replied. “Just be there so Ana will feel safe while our investigation continues.”
“Ana shouldn’t be used as bait.”
“Of course not,” Montoya exclaimed. “You brought me this information, and I’m pursuing it. Ana won’t be in any danger.”
Alejandro looked at her and shook his head. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”
Things got out of hand for them so often, Ana knew exactly how he felt. “Please give us tonight to think about it, Lieutenant. I’ll let you know what we decide in the morning.”
“I trust you to make the right decision. We need to solve Mr. Campos’s case before anyone else is harmed.”
Alejandro showed the detective to the door and then strolled into the kitchen to talk with Fatima. “I deserve whatever name you might call me, but Ana and I have declared a truce. For her sake, I’d appreciate it if you’d pretend cool indifference rather than open hostility whenever I’m here.”
“It will be a struggle,” Fatima answered tersely.
Certain that was all he could get from her, he rejoined Ana in the living room. He removed her shoe and rubbed her foot. “Despite your suspicions about Lamoreaux, how did the shoot go?”
She wiggled her toes. “That feels wonderful. I looked at it as a day of work, which I need. It went well in that respect. The French photographer was very good, and had I been anywhere else, I’d have been happy with the job.”
“I’m going with you tomorrow, but for now, I need to get back to work. I’ll call you later about dinner.”
“I’d like to stay in.”
He leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll bring dinner.”
When he left, Fatima came to the doorway and shook her head. “I know,” Ana confided. “If I’ve caught him in a lie, he’ll work doubly hard to keep me from catching him in the next one.”
“Or the following dozen,” Fatima emphasized.
Ana bit into another cookie. “I like the hazelnut flavor.”
“I don’t care what flavor Alejandro is—just be careful not to take too large a bite.”
Knowing she already had, Ana felt her cheeks fill with a bright blush.
Chapter Nineteen
Alejandro disliked Lucien Lamoreaux the instant he set eyes on him. Ana had called the Frenchman that morning to let him know she wouldn’t need his chauffeur, but the designer’s eyes widened as they came through the door.
“It’s Mr. Vasquez, isn’t it? How wonderful that you could come with Ana. The most provocative poses come to mind. Would you mind joining her in a few shots?”
“It’s Alejandro, and that depends on how provocative you care to get,” he replied with as charming a smile as he could fake. “Ana told me she wouldn’t mind if I came along if I promised to stay out of the way.”
Lucien offered his hand and looked Alejandro up and down. “The suit’s handsome on you. Maybe we could have you dancing, and we’ll focus on Ana’s shoe. There’s a new rack of clothing for you, my dear. Choose whatever you like, and Nanette will help you.”
The photographer came forward. “Pierre Duvernay. Ana is the most photogenic model I’ve ever worked with, and you look as though you might be equally good in front of a camera.”
“As long as I’m here,” Alejandro responded with a careless shrug. “Just tell me where to stand.”
Lucien opened a shoebox and removed a gold lace shoe. “Shall we do Cinderella? Your arm would hide Ana’s cast.”
“Fine, as long as I don’t have to wear tights.”
Lucien and Pierre laughed, and the designer assured him he wouldn’t need a wardrobe change. Alejandro was grateful for the relaxed mood, but he found it difficult to stand close to Lucien. Miguel Aragon had been significantly older than Ana, and not having grown up with a father, she might be drawn to older men. Lucien’s blue eyes and graying hair were a handsome combination, and Frenchmen were known for their charm. He silently cursed himself for being jealous, but if Ana weren’t so suspicious of Lucien, the designer might pose some real competition. The baby held Ana to him, but he shouldn’t have to rely on a child to keep her faithful.
When Ana appeared in a red ruffled gown, Pierre placed her in a gold occasional chair upholstered in silver brocade. “Turn toward me and, Mr. Vasquez, Alejandro, if you’ll kneel and hold the shoe. It’s the shoe we want to feature.”
Ana pulled the ruffled hem of her gown over her cast. “Wait a minute. Alejandro needs a touch of makeup so his skin won’t shine.”
“You’re right,” Pierre replied. “Nanette, give him a light dusting.”
Alejandro followed the makeup artist into Lucien’s bedroom and immediately noticed the Mapplethorpe photos. He sat down as directed but flinched at the first brush of powder. He raised his hands to his nose. “Sorry, I have to sneeze.”
Nanette stepped back until he’d finished. “Your dark, dangerous look sells cologne and whiskey. You should let my husband do your portfolio.”
“Thank you, but this is the only day I’ll model.”
“What a shame. There, you look fine now.”
Alejandro followed her into the living room. “I love the Mapplethorpe prints. He knew how to make a calla lily look erotic, and he did amazing nudes.”
“Indeed he did,” Lucien replied. “Now let’s try again. How does he look to you, Ana?”
She smiled at Alejandro. “Very fine, as always. How much of us will be in the ad? Just the shoe, or both of us?”
“Both of you look too good not to use. Give me your best smile, and Alejandro, you have a fine profile and should concentrate on her foot and ignore the camera.”
Alejandro gazed up at Ana. “You should have warned me I might have to pose.”
She raised a finger to her lips. “Hush.”
He slid the shoe on her foot more than a dozen times before Pierre and Lucien were satisfied. “Now stand together as though you were dancing. Do you want another shoe, Lucien?”
“No, let’s use the gold again and switch for the next pose.”
Alejandro held Ana tightly so she wouldn’t fall, but they’d never danced together, and now he wished they had. “We need some music,” he whispered in her ear.
“Hum to yourself, but if you make me laugh, we’ll be here all day.”
“I’ll be serious,” he promised, but it wasn’t easy, and the tunes he hummed in his mind were all silly jingles for products he never used.
Although he appeared in only half the photos they took that morning, he was relieved when he finally had time to sit and observe. As promised, he kept quiet and was impressed by how easily Ana summoned a gorgeous smile on cue. It reminded him of the day he’d discovered her true identity. He’d thought every minute they’d spent together had been a cruel hoax, and if Jaime hadn’t been murdered, he might not have seen her again. With his father’s influence, the damning pieces had fit together perfectly, but Ana had blown them apart
with the truth.
They were preparing to stop for lunch when a blue-uniformed policeman arrived at the door. Alejandro winked at Ana, and she responded with a slight nod.
The conversation at the front door could be easily overheard. “I’d no idea my chauffeur had any parking tickets. I’ll take care of them today,” Lucien said.
“It’s really the chauffeur’s responsibility,” the policeman insisted. “May I speak with him?”
“I’m sorry, but he’s left my employ.”
The policeman scribbled in his notebook. “I should make a note of his name.”
“René Charles,” Lucien replied. “If you’ll give me the tickets, I’ll see they’re paid.”
The policeman handed them to the designer, thanked him and left. Lucien shuffled the three tickets and placed them on the entry table before rejoining the others. “It looks as though René parked in the wrong zone when he stopped at your condo. It isn’t like him not to tell me, but I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“I hope they won’t cost you much money,” Ana exclaimed.
Lucien laughed at her dismay. “Please don’t worry. My sales are so good here in Barcelona, a few parking tickets are of no concern, although I’m surprised someone would come to my door to make inquiries. Perhaps the Spanish are always so thorough. Now I hope you’re hungry. I asked Etienne to make a vegetable dish he promises will be superb. Are you also a vegetarian, Alejandro?”
“No, but I’ve found everything Ana chooses is quite good, and I may become one someday. Right now, I bicycle to keep in shape, and I can’t do it on a carrot salad.”
“Will you excuse me?” Ana asked. “I need to change into my own clothes before we eat.”
Lucien nodded. “Of course, take your time.”
When the three reached the dining table, Lucien motioned for Ana to again take the seat on his right and put Alejandro on his left. As soon as they were served, Lucien concentrated on Ana. “I’m developing a perfume, a delightfully fresh and yet intoxicating blend of scents, and I’d love to feature you in the ads. You could do them now, and you wouldn’t have to stand. We’ll surround you in roses, orchids, all manner of colorful blooms, and all you’ll have to do is hold the elegant bottle and smile.”
