Read The Fashion Hound Murders Online
Authors: Elaine Viets
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Amateur Sleuth, #General
“A black Ferragamo then?” Vera said. “That’s rich looking but not rich.”
“Vera, honey, I have a hundred black suits. They all look alike.”
“I’ll find you a new blouse. A touch of color would freshen them.”
“Well, I could look. That wouldn’t cost anything.” Loretta was weakening.
Helen heard a small surprised shriek. “Why, Danny,” Loretta said. “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
“I’m shopping with my wife,” Danny said.
Helen checked the overhead security mirror to see the drama unfold. Chrissy and Loretta had squared off. Chrissy’s back was arched like an angry cat. Danny loomed above the blondes like a dark mountain.
“That’s right,” Chrissy said. “He has a wife. I’m Mrs. Danny Marlet.” She wrapped her arm protectively around Danny’s.
“Trust me, honey, I’m not interested in your husband,” Loretta said.
“Then why do you call him a hundred times a day?”
“It’s business,” Loretta said.
“Until midnight?” Chrissy asked.
“Important business. A little cream puff like you wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not stupid!” Chrissy said. “I know about those three thousand new jobs Danny’s project will bring to the city. And the house with the seven toilets. It’s not exactly the house of the seven gables, is it?”
“Shut up!” Danny said, his voice dangerously low.
“Danny can’t afford to get rid of me, can you?” Chrissy said. “He tells me everything.”
“If he told you everything, he’d tell you why he spends so much time with me,” Loretta said. “I can’t see why you shop here, Chrissy. With all Danny’s money, he could buy this store.”
“Hey!” Danny said, stepping toward her. “I’ll barely break even on the Orchid House project.”
“Right,” Loretta said. “That’s why you’re fighting so hard for that height variance. For nothing.”
Vera broke up the discussion. She took Danny’s arm and dragged him to a rack of men’s shoes. “I have some wonderful Bruno Maglis,” she said.
“I don’t wear used shoes,” Danny said. “They’re disgusting.”
“They’re new. These are four hundred dollars, Danny, and I’m selling them for less than a hundred. I think they’d fit you.” She slid shoes the size of sleds into Danny’s hands, then steered Chrissy toward the dresses.
“Try on this pretty cotton dress. It’s cool, but simple.”
“Perfect for a simple person,” Loretta said.
“Ladies!” Vera sounded like a disapproving schoolteacher. “Chrissy, you are the wife of a major developer caught in a controversy. You can’t be seen fighting.” She handed her the dress and pushed her toward the back dressing room next to her office.
Vera took Loretta’s hand. “And you, dear, are an elected official who must behave as well as she dresses. Come see my new blouses. I haven’t put them out yet. Perhaps I can find you a little extra tact.”
Loretta docilely followed Vera into her office.
At the front counter, Helen did the paperwork for Danny’s shirts. She’d just dropped them into the laundry bin when the door’s bells jingled. A woman with light brown hair wanted to see some Escada. Helen showed her the rack when she heard the bells again.
Helen recognized this new customer. Jordan lived in Helen’s apartment complex. She practically haunted Snap-dragon. Jordan had straight dark hair, slanted green eyes, and a long nose that made her look rather like an anteater. A stylish anteater. She shimmied in wearing a summer dress that was as tight as a tourniquet.
“Helen!” she said. “Any new cocktail dresses from Paris Hilton?”
“Going someplace special?” Helen asked.
Jordan dropped her voice and said, “I’ve found a man—a special man. He wants to take me clubbing in South Beach. Paris’s clothes would be perfect.”
“But what about—?” Helen said, then stopped. Jordan was living with Mark. But that was Mark’s problem, not hers.
“What?” Jordan asked.
“The price,” Helen finished. “Paris left two dresses, but they’re three hundred each.”
“Don’t worry, I can get the money from Mark. A girl has to move up in the world, doesn’t she? Let me see the dresses. Are they slutty?”
“Slightly,” Helen said.
“Good. I want raw sex. My new man has to pop the question. I’m not getting any younger.” Jordan’s green eyes were as hard as bottle glass.
“Then try them on. But I’d better warn you, you could walk into a domestic argument back there.”
“Oooh, free entertainment.” Jordan gave extra swish to her hips as she followed Helen to the back. Danny was walking between the racks and Jordan walked straight into him. Helen watched Jordan’s face light up and her gem-hard eyes soften. “Why, Danny,” she said.
Danny surveyed her as if she were a virus under a microscope. “Do I know you?”
Jordan stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “Danny, how can you say that? After—”
She never finished. Danny dropped the monster Maglis on the floor with a clatter. “You!” He pointed to Helen. “Tell Vera I’m not interested in castoffs.” He stormed out.
Jordan stood there as if she’d turned to stone. Maybe the skintight dress had cut off her circulation.
“Prick!” Jordan wiped away tears, smearing her mascara.
“He’s not worth crying over,” Helen whispered. “And his wife is in the back dressing room. Look at these dresses.” She steered Jordan to the cocktail dress rack. “The pink and the red dresses were Paris’s.”
“What about that yellow one?” Jordan asked.
“That’s a handpainted silk scarf.” Helen picked it off a hanger. “Feel it.”
“Not interested in covering anything up,” Jordan said. “It’s showtime.”
Helen settled Jordan and the two dresses inside the other fitting room, then picked up the shoes Danny had dropped on the floor and put them back on the shelf.
Vera came out of her office, took a deep breath, and said, “Anyone still here?”
Helen looked around. The Escada lady had slipped out during the drama. Loretta, the best-dressed county commissioner, had also disappeared.
“I have Jordan in the fitting room,” Helen said. “She’s trying on dresses.”
“I need a break,” Vera said. She settled wearily behind the front counter. “Is it really only eleven fifteen?” She took a long drink of bottled water and popped two aspirin.
“Is it always this crazy here?” Helen asked.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Vera said. “This is an emotional business. Everyone wants to look richer than they are. Loretta didn’t want the blouses, but she’s the easiest type to deal with—a professional who has to look good. Your neighbor Jordan is hunting for a man. She’s convinced if she finds the right dress, she’ll get a rich guy and be happy.”
“It didn’t help Chrissy,” Helen said.
“Poor Chrissy. Her husband is a control freak.”
“I couldn’t imagine my fiancé, Phil, caring how many purses I have,” Helen said.
Vera took another long drink and said, “Phil doesn’t need to control you. I doubt he could. Danny is a developer. Until his Orchid House hotel complex is approved, he’s in the spotlight. He doesn’t like it.”
“Then why do it?”
“Despite the way Danny was poor-mouthing, he stands to make millions. Developers are like riverboat gamblers: One year they’re rich, the next they’re busted. He can’t help that. The only thing Danny can control is his wife. He won’t give her a dime. Chrissy outfoxed him. She buys superexpensive merchandise, keeps it until she can’t return it to the store, then brings it to me for consignment. I sell it and we split the money. She’s hauled off about two thousand dollars so far this year. Danny never tumbled onto her scheme until today. He’s usually too smart to blow up in public, but right now, he’s playing a dangerous game.”
“How?” Helen asked.
“He needs the approval of the county commission to tear down the old Orchid House and build a new project. That’s why he’s cozying up to Loretta. He’s after her vote, not her ass. She’s one of two holdouts.”
“Danny doesn’t play around?” Helen asked.
“Of course he does. Chrissy is his third wife. He has at least one sweetie on the side. I’ve seen him drinking with pretty ladies around town. I don’t think he was asking them for loans.”
“Too bad for Chrissy,” Helen said.
“She’s no angel,” Vera said. “She’s a customer of the Exceptional Pool Service.”
Helen looked at her blankly. “What’s that mean? Our pool is cleaned by my landlady with a long-handled net.”
“Exceptional Pool Service lives up to its name. Their ads promise, ‘We get into places you never consider.’ The joke is they’re exceptionally good at getting in bed with unhappy wives. Check out their ads online. Their employees look like Chippendales and their service uniform is tight white shorts and a tan. Almost makes me wish I had a pool.
“I’d better check on Chrissy,” Vera said. “Where is that pony-hair purse? I’ll ask what she wants to do with it.” Vera spotted the purse, picked it up, and headed toward the back dressing room.
“I’ll see about Jordan,” Helen said.
She was almost at the dressing room when she heard the first scream.