B004183M70 EBOK (32 page)

The first thing I did was put on a pot of coffee.

Bradley hadn't come in yet, so the second thing I did was
refresh my pink lip gloss.

Debbie Ann's photo shoot for Precision Knives was set for
eleven. I managed to return phone calls and type a letter before Bradley
emerged from the elevator, Drew on his heels.

"Good morning," I said. "Do you want coffee,
Mr. Williams?"

"Please, Miss Bennett." He entered his office, took
off his suit coat, and sat in his chair. Drew lingered at Bradley's doorway.

"Hey, Bebe, would you bring me a cup?" he asked.

I walked past him and snatched Bradley's mug from his desk.
Fixing his coffee the way he liked, I indicated the Styrofoam cups next to the
coffeepot. "Drew, everything you need is right there."

Before he could answer, I entered Bradley's office and put
the hot mug in front of him. Taking a few steps back, I made sure Bradley could
see my outfit. I figured I'd done my job when his gaze went over me; then he
quickly averted his eyes.

"Thanks, kid. We've got a busy day. You don't have any
outside appointments, do you?"

"I'll be here all day."

From behind me, Drew strolled in with his coffee and sat down
on the sofa. "Good coffee, comfortable couch, pretty girls ... I'd like to
be in charge of Ryan."

Bradley swung around in his chair, facing his cousin.
"Get out of here, Drew."

From the doorway a male voice said, "Excuse me for
interrupting, but I need to see you, Bebe."

God bless Stu! Handsome and exuding power, he filled the door
frame.

"Hi, Stu," I said and gave him a blinding smile.
"Come on out to my desk."

Stu knew how to play the game. He put his arm around my
shoulder and hugged me so hard that my right foot came off the ground.

I sat at my desk—in full view of Bradley—and crossed my legs.
"What happened with Lola?"

Stu crouched down, grinning, and spoke softly. "I know
you're anxious to hear, and boy, do I have a doozy of a story for you."

"I'm on the edge of my seat."

"Be careful you don't fall off when you hear what I've
found out."

"That bad?"

"Yes. I posed as a modeling agent interested in representing
her. Lola was flattered and welcomed me inside. She drinks like a man, Bebe. I
swear she had five glasses of scotch. Come to think of it, she had been
drinking before I got there."

"That's Lola."

"Drinking is only one side of her. I stroked her ego,
told her how she wasn't getting the assignments she deserved. She decided I was
her new best friend and spilled the beans. She complained about Suzie, how she
took all her work." Stu paused. "Brace yourself, Bebe. Here's where
you might fall off your chair. Lola confided she's been working part-time for
Fran Bitsy."

"Who?"

Stu sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Fran Bitsy rims a
group of high-class prostitutes in New York."

I gasped. "Why would Lola do such a thing? And how could
she keep it a secret?"

Stu put his hand on mine. "Bebe, Lola is not only an
alcoholic; she's a gambler. Las Vegas is practically her second home. She told
me how everyone in the Rat Pack knows her. I saw her at Pierre's gala hanging
on Frank Sinatra. Anyway, Lola has deep gaming debts, and the casinos
threatened to cut her off about six months ago."

"So Lola contacted this woman and started to—"

"Yes. Lola was with a very well known, very married
Broadway star the night of Suzie's murder. I verified it with Fran
myself."

"You know this woman?"

"Yes. Wealthy men and celebrities all over Manhattan
know Fran, or know of her. She has a solid reputation for being discreet.
That's why Lola hasn't been found out," he said. "It doesn't mean
anything that I know who Fran is, Bebe. You know there's only one doll for
me."

Whispering, I said, "Do you think Bradley knows
Fran?"

Stu's gaze met mine. "He probably does, but Williams
isn't the type to seek those services."

"How do you know?"

"Male intuition?"

"Okay." I swallowed. "This means Lola didn't
kill Suzie."

"Right. Now, what else can I do to help?"

We stood. "Nothing, Stu. I can't thank you enough for
everything."

"No need," he said, wrapping me in a big hug.
"I consider myself in your debt for helping me square things with
Darlene."

Stu released me, and I saw Drew and Debbie Ann standing down
the hall watching. My gaze shifted to Bradley. He crunched a piece of paper
into a ball.

Stu and I smiled at each other and said good-bye.

I worked hard until near the time of Debbie Ann's shoot. Then I called Danielle to cover for me, and took the
stairs up to the eighteenth floor. Inside Debbie Ann's kitchen, Gloria knelt
on the floor rummaging through her big makeup case. She hadn't even stopped at
my desk to sign in!

Debbie Ann was talking to her assistant,
Nellie.

"None of the girls here are as
attractive as you, Bebe," Drew said close to my ear, startling me.

I moved away without answering him. Drew
was nuts if he thought I'd move to Chicago for him.

Nellie scurried off to the elevator, which
also brought Bradley. Nellie jumped back at the sight of him. He ignored her,
and the suddenly chilly atmosphere, and stepped onto the set.

To my surprise, Louis appeared out of
nowhere and greeted me warmly, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.
"Hello, Bebe. You look ravishing, as always."

"Louis, what are you doing here?"
I said for his ears alone. "There's no Burma-Shave shoot today."

He raised a hand to my hair, pushing a
strand behind my ear. "I asked Gina if I could play a husband in the
background of Debbie Ann's ad. She said no, but I knew you would approve."

Jerk! "You're wrong, Louis. You can't
use me to get modeling gigs. Gina and Mr. Williams schedule the models. Now
please leave the set."

A wounded expression on his face, he said,
"If that's what you want, surely. How about dinner one night this week? You
pick the day."

"No. We won't be going out
again," I said, and walked toward the kitchen.

"You liked it when I kissed you,"
he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Mortified, I turned and opened my mouth,
but Bradley had Louis by the arm. He said, "Do you want me to escort you
to the door, or should I call security?"

Louis snatched his arm away and stalked off
to the elevator.

I entered the kitchen, bracing myself for another nasty
encounter. Debbie Ann fussed around, waiting for Gloria.

I took a deep breath and stood over Gloria. "I want to
talk to you," I said.

No response.

"Gloria, I'm speaking to you."

She rose and faced me. "You. Pierre will be here any
minute, if that's what you're wondering."

"Actually, what I'm wondering is why you told Detective
Finelli that I killed Suzie Wexford."

We stared at each other. I had no intention of backing down.

"You make me sick," Gloria spat. "When you
couldn't get anywhere with your boss, you decided Pierre was the better
catch."

"Pierre is not the issue here. Answer my question: Why
did you lie to Finelli?"

"Look at you, dressed like that. You're no better than
Lola or Suzie. I saw you allow Lola to drink on the plane so that Pierre would
have to use you to model that skimpy black bikini. You and Pierre were real
cozy on that beach in Saint Thomas."

Why was Gloria going on about Pierre? "Where were you on
the night Suzie was murdered?"

"Me! I was on a date with a medical intern. Finelli has
checked out my alibi. What's yours? You told me you hated Suzie. You wanted her
dead. I think you killed her!"

"How could you—"

"Enough!" yelled Pierre.

The Frenchman stood at the edge of the set. He'd heard
everything, as had Bradley, Drew, and Debbie Ann.

Pierre crossed to Gloria. "How dare you speak that way
of Bebe?"

Gloria's voice rose. "Go ahead. Take your new girlfriend's
side. You always pick the wrong girl! It should have been me all this time, but
you never noticed how much I love you. How it's been me who's stuck with you all these years. But you couldn't love me. All you saw
was that I'm chubby and don't have a pretty enough face."

"You foolish girl. You'll do Debbie
Ann's makeup because I won't have Bebe's shoot ruined, but after this, you will
work for me no more," Pierre announced dramatically.

Gloria narrowed her eyes at him.
"That's fine with me. I don't need you or want you, Pierre. You have a
love-hate relationship with all your women. Just look at your history: Kiki
threw herself off a building rather than be with you. Lola drove herself to
drink. Suzie's dead—"

Pierre slapped Gloria.

Bradley stepped forward as if to intervene,
but I shook my head at him.

"Pierre," I said, "I started
all this by confronting Gloria. Please apologize to Gloria for hitting
her."

"No. It is Gloria who must apologize
to us," Pierre said, his face red.

Gloria said, "I didn't say anything
that wasn't true. I'm leaving. Sorry, Debbie Ann."

Debbie Ann hovered in the corner, twisting
her apron, for once not relishing this glimpse into personal matters.

Bradley spoke. "Gloria, if you leave
without doing Debbie Ann's makeup, you will not work for Ryan Modeling again.
Do you understand? Debbie Ann needs you; the agency needs you to fulfill your
obligation."

Debbie Ann found her voice. "Please
stay, Gloria. All this unpleasantness has made me quite upset. I don't think I
could bear a stranger doing my face."

"I'll do it for you, Debbie Ann,"
Gloria finally agreed.

I rubbed Pierre's arm and looked into his
eyes. "Please, Pierre, we need your talent. You want to make the folks at
Precision Knives happy, don't you? A great ad photographed by the best in the
business."

As quickly as his temper had flared, Pierre
relaxed under my soothing words.

"On one condition, Bebe," he said.

"What?"

"That you will have dinner with me tonight at
Sardi's."

Gloria laughed. "One of Suzie's two favorite
restaurants."

"That would be lovely, Pierre," I said quickly before
an argument could flare again. While I didn't like leading Pierre on, I needed
to spend time with him. He and Jeff Granford were the only suspects left.

"Can we get to work here, everyone?" Bradley
snapped.

Pierre glared his disgust at Bradley.

"Pierre, what time will you pick me up?" I asked,
hoping to divert him.

"At seven thirty, cherie."

"I'll be ready," I said, then gave him my address,
which he wrote on the back of one of his business cards.

"You're not going back to your desk now, are you?
Someone needs to oversee the shoot," he said, as if Bradley weren't a few
feet away.

"I'll stay," I told him, causing Bradley to head
for the elevator.

When the shoot was finished, successfully in my opinion, I
returned to my desk.

The first thing I saw was Bradley's closed door.

"How'd it go, Danielle?" I asked.

"Fine. I typed some letters for you."

"You're swell. I'm calling your supervisor right now to
praise your hard work."

"Thanks, Bebe. Mr. Williams sure was mad when he came
back downstairs."

"Really?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. He slammed his door so hard the coffee pot
rattled."

"Men," I said, and rolled my eyes. Danielle chuckled
and returned to the typing pool.

Was Bradley mad at me? Jealous about the male attention I'd received today? Had he heard Gloria's comment
about me posing in the black bikini?

I dialed Mrs. Seeds's extension and explained in detail what
a valuable employee Danielle was to the agency. Mrs. Seeds listened and we hung
up on excellent terms.

Then I dialed Detective Finelli's number.

"Finelli."

"I'm glad I caught you, Detective."

"Miss Bennett. It's gotten so I recognize your
voice."

"That's nice, isn't it?" I proceeded to explain
almost everything that had happened with Lola, Scott, and Gloria. He
acknowledged me with a grunt here and there.

"Interesting, Miss Bennett. Who's at the top of your
suspect list now?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me if there was a diamond
engagement ring found in Suzie Wexford's apartment," I bargained.

A sigh came from the other end of the line. "Lots of
jewelry, no diamond ring."