MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (9 page)

Chapter 20

  

Penelope's eyes unglued themselves once more, but this time instead of ceiling tiles, she saw Arlena's face, smiling worriedly back at her from the visitor's chair.

“Thank God you're okay,” Arlena said, her forehead creased with concern.

Penelope smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Pen, I'm so sorry this happened.” Arlena stood up and went to hug Penelope, being very careful not to squeeze too hard.

Penelope eased herself into a seated position, keeping her sprained wrist elevated and making sure not to bump it on the bed's railing. She'd done that when Nurse Kurtz was helping her get dressed, and bolts of lightning had raced up her arm and brought fresh tears to her eyes until the pain ebbed to a dull throb.

“I must have dozed off,” Penelope said, glancing at the window. She could still see daylight, but could tell it was late afternoon from the red-orange glow. “They said I could go.”

Arlena nodded. “Yes, you've been released. I'm going to take care of you.”

“You don't have to do that,” Penelope said. “I can manage if you just help me get my things together and get home. I'm feeling much better.”

“Stop. I'm taking care of you,” Arlena said sternly. She picked up the plastic bag at the foot of the hospital bed and glanced inside. “Your purse is in here. And your shoes.” She pulled out Penelope's sneakers and knelt down on the floor, sliding them onto Penelope's feet and lacing them up.

Penelope slid her purse out of the bag and dug in it with her uninjured hand for her phone. She had a few missed calls and a voicemail from an unknown number. Penelope's heart swelled in her chest and she fought back tears as she watched Arlena's long fingers tie her shoes. An unfamiliar ring sparkled on her index finger. “Where did you get that?”

Arlena flattened her hand and looked at it. It was a jade ring exactly like the one she had seen Hannah wearing at Xapa. “It's from Sienna's line. She gave it to me as a gift a while ago.” She finished tying Penelope's shoes and stood up.

Nurse Kurtz entered. “How is your pain level?”

“It's better,” Penelope said. “It's mostly my wrist and my ribcage.”

“The wrist is a second-degree sprain, so you're going to have pain and a loss of function for a while. Your ribs on your left side are bruised, but there are no fractures. You're very lucky you didn't break any bones.”

“And what about this?” Arlena asked, pointing to the purple and yellow bruise forming around Penelope's eye and across the right side of her forehead. Two butterfly bandages stretched across a gash over her eyebrow. “Does she have a concussion?”

“No, she took impact there from the pavement, but the CT scan ruled that out. Continue with the cold compresses and the bruising should subside within a week to ten days. The best thing you can do is rest. We'll schedule a follow-up for you here, or you can do it with your own doctor.”

“I'll do it here,” Penelope said. “I'm working nearby, so it'll be more convenient.”

Nurse Kurtz looked at her with mild surprise. “You shouldn't be in a hurry to get back to work. Don't put any strain on that wrist or you'll risk nerve damage, which is much harder to recover from.”

“Okay, I promise,” Penelope said, sliding off the side of the bed. Arlena put out her arm for support until Penelope felt stable enough to stand on her own.

Nurse Kurtz warned Penelope again to rest, then pulled a wheelchair from right outside the door.

“I don't need that,” Penelope said a bit sharply. She didn't want to be rude to the kind nurse, but the urge to walk out of the hospital under her own steam was overwhelming.

“Hospital policy,” Nurse Kurtz said. “Only to the lobby, then you're free to go.”

“Just sit down,” Arlena said. “Can I push her?”

“Sure,” Nurse Kurtz said. She got Penelope situated in the chair and put the plastic bag containing her personal items on her lap. Arlena wheeled Penelope out of the room and down the elevator to the lobby, Nurse Kurtz observing them the whole time. When they walked out the sliding glass doors in front of the hospital, a Lincoln Town Car slid up to the curb in front of them. The driver jumped out and opened the rear door, helping Penelope ease down into the seat. Arlena walked around to the other side of the car, slipping on her large sunglasses and pulling her thin sweatshirt hood up over her head.

“What hotel?” Arlena asked as she settled into her seat. “We'll get you settled, then I'm going to have to eat again. Stressing about Max is helping my weight gain, at least.” She looked down at her stomach and rubbed it, as if it were any less flat than it had been a few days before.

“Tribeca Loft,” Penelope said, leaning back against the leather seat and closing her eyes.

Remembering the voicemail from the unknown number on her phone, she sat up again and listened to it, surprised to hear Joey's voice. He sounded distant, and there was a lot of background noise, like he was in a restaurant or a bar.

“Penny, I just checked my messages and heard about the accident. The officer who called didn't give me any details, so I don't know what's going on. I'm upstate at the cabin, and my phone doesn't work out here. I can use the phone at the diner to get messages. There's a snow storm coming through, but I'm going to close up the cabin and get back on the road, down to you. Call me and let me know what's going on.” She could hear the worried tension in his voice and her stomach tightened. She called his number and left a message, letting him know she'd been released from the hospital and was on her way back to the hotel. She finished by saying, “Hearing your voice has made me feel better. Please call me back when you can. Can't wait to see you.”

The car slid away from the hospital and Penelope dropped the phone in her lap, breathing a sigh of relief, which pinched her ribcage. She put her hand lightly against her side and thought about how much worse she could have been hurt if she had fallen in front of the car instead of on top of it.

Arlena pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. “I can't believe I haven't heard from Max yet. I'm really worried about him.” She dug in her purse and plucked out a bag of Peanut M&M's.

“Where did you get those?” Penelope asked, her stomach rumbling.

“Vending machine,” Arlena said, popping three colorful candies in her mouth. She tilted the bag towards Penelope, who thanked her and took one.

Penelope looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was a little after five in the afternoon. “I've been out of it most of the day...there's been no news?”

“Nope. Daddy's been looking for him all day,” she said through a mouthful of chocolate.

“What about Hannah?”

Arlena shook her head. “Whatever those two are up to, we have no idea.”

“How are you feeling about the pregnancy test in Max's apartment?” Penelope asked.

Arlena closed her eyes and laid her head heavily against the headrest, crumpling the candy bag in her fist. She let out a single sharp laugh. “I'm having a hard time believing it's true. I mean…” She trailed off.

“I'm sorry,” Penelope said. “It's none of my business. I was just looking around his apartment because we were all so worried.”

Arlena shook her head. “I'm surprised, is all. And look at everything he's put us through today. You end up in the hospital, Daddy is worried sick, and I'm totally stressed out. I'm going to strangle him.”

Penelope was quiet for a few beats as Arlena angrily ate a few more M&Ms. “How do you feel about Max becoming a father?”

Arlena crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “If Max wants to start a family, that's his decision. But I know my brother. I just don't think he's ready for that kind of responsibility. And with Hannah? How are the two of them going to manage a baby?”

“I thought the same thing,” Penelope said. “But Max has a great heart. I'm sure he'll figure it out.”

Arlena nodded reluctantly. “Yes, he is a good person. Luckily, he has the means to hire any help he needs. It's not like they won't be able to afford a nanny. Daddy will be happy…he loves babies.”

“Wow, Randall Madison is going to be a grandfather,” Penelope said, smiling cautiously.

Arlena rolled her eyes and laughed. “I guess that makes me Aunt Arlena.”

The car pulled in front of the hotel and the driver opened the doors for them.

Arlena helped Penelope gather up her things from the room, folding her clothes and placing them in one of Penelope's gym bags Arlena had brought from the house.

When they finished packing, Penelope ducked into the bathroom for one last check to be sure she hadn't left anything behind.

Arlena's phone rang and she pulled it from her purse. “It's Daddy.”

Penelope pulled the shower curtain aside and glanced at the tub, grabbing a shampoo bottle she'd left on the ledge. When she came out she saw Arlena sitting in one of the club chairs, her face an expression of grim surprise.

“What is it?” Penelope asked. She could hear Randall's voice shouting on the other end of the phone.

Arlena pulled the phone from her ear. “We've found Max. He's been arrested for murder.”

Chapter 21

  

Arlena hung up with her father and stared out of the hotel window in stunned silence.

“What happened?” Penelope asked.

“He's been arrested. Daddy doesn't have all the details yet, but from what Max told him on the phone, they're charging him with Christian's murder.”

Penelope walked to the table and sat down in the opposite chair facing Arlena, the small dining table in between them. “Where was he when they arrested him?”

“Somewhere in the Village,” Arlena said, breaking off her stare and looking at Penelope.

“Was he with Hannah?”

“I don't know. I don't think so. Daddy didn't say,” Arlena said. “He's so upset. I don't know what to do.”

Penelope reached across the table with her good hand and held it out to Arlena, who reached over to take it. They sat like that for a minute while Penelope thought about what to say. “Did Randall say what evidence they have against Max?”

Arlena rubbed Penelope's fingers with her own. “No, except they had proof he was at the murder scene, and Max had blood on his clothes when they took him into custody.” She released Penelope's hand and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms loosely at her waist.

“Where is he now?”

“Some precinct in Lower Manhattan,” Arlena said. “Daddy is on his way over there. With my luck, he'll punch somebody and get arrested too. And I'll be on my own to help them.”

“Let's not think about that. And you're not alone. I'm here.” Penelope stood up to get the purse she'd tossed onto the bed. She retrieved her phone. “I'm going to call someone who can hopefully help us.”

Arlena had gone back to gazing out the window, her shoulders slumping weakly. Penelope could see she was on the verge of tears.

“Gomez.”

“Hi, Denise, it's Penelope.”

“Hey, how are you feeling? They release you yet?”

“Yes, I left the hospital a little while ago. Listen, we just got a call that Max has been arrested for Christian's murder. Do you know anything about it?” Penelope closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that Officer Gomez would be able to help.

“No, I hadn't heard. I'm out on patrol. Tell you what, let me make a call and I'll be back in touch.”

“Okay,” Penelope said, deflating a bit. “Anything you can find out, we'd really appreciate it.”

“Talk to you soon,” she said, and ended the call.

“I know one of the officers from the precinct. She's going to look into it and call me back,” Penelope said. “I think we should go to Christian's apartment building. It's the last place we know Max was and it's surrounded by apartments. Maybe we can find something out, something that will help Max. I was on my way over there when I got hit by the cab.”

“Maybe it would help,” Arlena said, a glimmer of hope in her voice. “But wouldn't the police have done that already?”

Penelope's mind skipped back to tired Detective Leary who had questioned her that morning, then remembered how she'd been the first one to talk to Sienna. She shook her head and said, “They may have, but it can't hurt to go by there and see what we can find out. We're on Max's side in this, and may be the only ones right now. If we find a witness to what happened or uncover a new suspect for them to consider, it could help him.”

Arlena looked at her skeptically, but eventually agreed, saying, “Well, I don't know what else to do. I guess it's better than sitting here and worrying.”

  

In the car, Penelope searched for news of Max's arrest on her phone. It hadn't been picked up widely yet, but she did find a mention of it on one of the local New York news websites.

“How do they get this information so quickly?” Penelope asked, scrolling through the article.

“They have contacts at the police station. The minute something happens, the papers and stations get a call, especially when it involves someone famous.”

Penelope saw Christian's name and a link to another article about his murder, but it too was vague and only stated the general crime and neighborhood. She found Christian's online photo portfolio that Sienna mentioned and scrolled slowly through dozens of pictures.

“Wait, Christian has the same last name as the director of the agency,” Penelope said with surprise.

“Really?” Arlena asked, looking down at Penelope's phone. “That's odd.”

“Maybe they're related,” Penelope said. “Alves is a common name, so maybe not, but that would be a coincidence.”

The Town Car pulled up in front of Christian's brownstone twenty minutes later and Penelope tucked her phone away. She glanced at the building from the car and saw someone walk past the windows of the first-floor office of MUI.

“This is where Christian lived?” Arlena asked, stepping out of the car.

“And where he was killed,” Penelope said, accepting the arm of the driver as she stepped out on her side. The pain in her ribcage was more acute now, and she thought back to when she'd taken her last pain pill. Penelope watched a tall thin woman dressed all in gray walk past the window again and glance at their car. “That must be Joyce Alves. Officer Gomez told me she's met her several times. Let's go talk to her.”

“Maybe she knows who really killed Christian, or has an idea at least. We need to convince her to give us a name, or go to the police,” Arlena said excitedly.

“Wait a second,” Penelope said, placing her hand on Arlena's forearm. “Let's not bring up Max. I think we should find out more about Christian, find something that might point us towards another suspect.”

Arlena nodded. “You're right.”

Penelope glanced over at the courtyard and saw a piece of yellow police tape stuck to the corner of the fence, left over from where someone had ripped it down. “We should act like we're here to talk about modeling, and then casually slip in some questions about Christian.”

They climbed the steps together, Penelope holding onto Arlena's arm to steady herself. She took small sips of breath to keep the pain in her side to a minimum. Arlena pressed the button for MUI and the door buzzed open immediately.

They walked through the foyer, stepping over a pile of mail that had come in through the slot on the door before entering the reception area of the agency. A rolling suitcase was propped against the bottom step of the wooden staircase in the foyer. The woman they'd seen in the window greeted them with a welcoming smile.

“How can I help you?” Her hair, pulled back in a low bun, was black with silver strands woven through. A cashmere turtleneck sweater hung from her bony shoulders and her pants looked way too big. Penelope guessed they were the right size, she just didn't have enough flesh on her to fill them out. She eyed Penelope's injuries with interest, then spoke to Arlena. “Looking for some new talent?”

Arlena looked at Penelope, then back at the woman. “Yes, I am. Sienna Wentworth recommended your agency.”

“Ah, yes, Sienna. She just had her debut, which I hear went well. I'm Joyce Alves, the director here.”

“Are you usually in the office on Sunday?” Penelope asked.

Joyce laughed quietly. “You know, it feels like I'm always here. Actually, I just got back from a business trip and had to come in to check on some things. You're lucky you caught me.”

“Yes, we are,” Arlena said, removing her sunglasses. “Sienna is designing a collection for me and I'd like to hire some models for a private showing. I'm interested to see what you can offer.”

She invited them to join her at a causal seating area set up in front of a marble fireplace with two chairs, a coffee table, and a small couch.

Joyce smiled and interlaced her fingers over her bony knee after she sat down. “Of course. If you can give me some idea of what you're looking for,” she glanced at Penelope briefly then back to Arlena, a glint of recognition in her eyes, “I can better recommend some girls for you.”

“There were only male models at Sienna's show, but she said you represent a variety,” Arlena said. “We were introduced to one from this agency, highly recommended by Sienna.”

“Christian,” Penelope said, pretending to remember his name suddenly. “He said he lived here, too…invited us over for an after party.” Penelope drew Joyce's attention away from Arlena briefly.

Joyce studied Penelope's face calmly and said, “Christian, yes. Unfortunately he was involved in an incident over the weekend.”

“Oh? What happened?” Penelope asked, doing her best to convey surprise.

“As I mentioned, I've been travelling, but there was some kind of…well, you'll probably hear about it in the news. He was killed, by a stranger, right upstairs. Some kind of break-in, I imagine. The police don't know exactly.”

Arlena sucked in a sharp breath, feigning surprise.

“How awful,” Penelope said. “Were you two close?”

The woman shrugged and swept her hands out in a “who knows” motion. “Not particularly, but it's still a tragedy. He was a good tenant and employee. We didn't interact very much outside of work.”

Penelope frowned and decided to lie. “When we met, I'm pretty sure he said his name was Alves, too.”

The woman leaned forward and addressed Arlena, “Who are you, exactly? I was under the impression you came here looking for talent.”

“I am,” Arlena said sharply. “But you have to admit that's some story. If this isn't a good time—”

The front door banged open, the glass vibrating in the wooden frame, and a young girl entered the foyer. She had several white plastic bags with yellow smiley faces draped over her forearms, the weight of them pulling at the sleeves of her sweater.

Joyce's face tightened and she bit her lower lip.

The girl walked past the reception desk and froze when she saw the three of them sitting in front of the fireplace. “Miss Joyce, I'm so sorry.”

“Sinay, I'm with clients. Take that in through the back. And when you're finished, bring my suitcase upstairs.”

“Yes, Miss Joyce,” the girl said, backing out of the room. She was frail with a dark complexion and her thick black hair was pulled into an unruly ponytail.

“Sorry about her,” Joyce said after she'd gone.

Arlena waved it off. “Now, how do I go about selecting my models?”

Joyce smiled. “We can set up an appointment for you to come in and see the girls in person.”

Arlena sighed and fiddled with her sunglasses in her lap. “I'm very busy, and I don't want to make an additional trip for something so...” She paused, searching for the right word. “I really should just have Sienna deal with this, or maybe I can find an agency closer to home.”

Joyce sat forward in her chair. “Of course we can help you. As you may have heard from Sienna, we represent the very best models. You can preview headshots and videos of the girls walking, and then we'll set up an appointment at your home, if that's convenient, to confirm your choices in person.”

Arlena glanced down the hallway past the reception desk. “Perfect. Is there somewhere we can take care of that now?”

Joyce stood up, motioning towards the hallway. “Our conference room is right this way.”

Penelope pushed herself up with the help of the arm of the chair.

“This is something I can do alone,” Arlena said. “You rest here until we're through.”

Penelope sat back down and watched the two of them head down the hall and through the doorway on the left. A minute later, the young girl appeared from the rear of the building carrying a tray with bottles of water and mugs of coffee into the conference room. When she reemerged, pulling the door quietly behind her, she hurried back down the hall.

Penelope stood up and winced at the pain in her side, which was now on the verge of becoming unbearable. She dug in her purse for the little orange vial of pain pills from the hospital and walked down the hallway, hoping to find the kitchen and a glass of water.

Sinay jumped when Penelope entered the room, her hands submerged in sudsy water and her back to the doorway. When she saw it was Penelope, she turned around quickly. “Oh, hello, ma'am. Can I help you?” She pulled her long sleeves down to her wrists as she took quick glances at Penelope's injuries. She didn't look at Penelope directly, keeping her gaze pointed downward or just over Penelope's shoulder.

“Could I have some water please?” Penelope asked.

Sinay hurried to the refrigerator and eased it open, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to Penelope.

“Thank you so much.” She popped one of her pills in her mouth and took a healthy sip as Sinay turned back to the sink, pulling her sleeves up and getting back to her dishes. Penelope noticed the bags she'd carried in had contained a few liters of soda and several boxes of ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese. She'd wadded the plastic bags with the smiley faces into a ball on the counter.

Penelope eyed Sinay's narrow shoulders from behind and figured she couldn't be much older than sixteen. She rinsed a stack of plates and several plastic cups, placing them on a wooden drying rack on the counter.

“So, you work here?” Penelope asked after a few minutes.

Sinay's ponytail swayed against her back as she nodded, gazing at the soapy water. Penelope walked over to the counter and leaned next to her, looking at the side of her face. When she looked down into the sink she saw the girl had shiny marks on her forearms, what looked like an upraised rash on her dark brown skin.

“You should wear gloves,” Penelope said before taking another sip of water. “The soap might be too harsh for your skin.”

The girl pulled her hands from the sink and quickly pulled her sleeves down over her arms, water soaking through her sweater. She looked away from Penelope, holding an elbow with her opposite hand.