The Celebutantes (18 page)

“I don't know if I'm following you,” Park said. “What's so important about that?”

“I called the gallery in Paris today,” Madison said quickly. “And I was able to confirm that Ina worked there while they were holding the auction for Luchian's paintings. Don't you see? Ina Debrovitch and Poppy van Lulu met six years ago at that gallery. They've known each other all this time!”

Park and Lex stopped putting on their outfits and stared at each other.

“No way!” Lex finally screamed.

“Amazing,” Park said calmly, impressed. “A direct link between two suspects that no one's made yet. How did you manage to get that info from the gallery?”

Madison tossed her head back as she slipped further into the ugly green jumpsuit. “You
know
my French is as flawless as my Italian. I pretended Ina was applying for a job in my gallery, and I asked for a reference. They didn't tell me much about her, but they confirmed that she worked there.”

“Huh,” Park said. “It's a big link, but it doesn't mean Ina and Poppy were in on killing Elijah.”

“No, it doesn't,” Madison agreed. “But I told you guys about that scientific study that Poppy totally failed? Well, she knew Elijah from back then also, and she didn't want that info being leaked to the public. Elijah knew all about it. So that could very easily be Poppy's motive—she wanted to keep him silent.”

“But if that's her motive, where does Ina fit into it?” Lex asked. “And what about the art code, and the key Park found? What about
To the Penthouse
?”

“I don't know yet,” Madison answered. “But that's what we're going to find out.” She struggled with the rest of the jumpsuit, then sighed. “This is insane!”

“It's the only way to do this safely,” Park said. She fastened the buttons of her stained white shirt and then fitted the gray vest over her upper body. She clamped a hairnet over her messy bun. “The last thing we want is to get caught. Don't forget, we're visiting a crime scene.”

“A
former
crime scene,” Madison corrected her. “And maybe I wouldn't be so pissed off if I didn't have to walk around in this stinky jumpsuit.” She pointed down at it. “It smells like a sumo wrestler wore it.”

“Just put it on.” Lex wrapped her long hair into a bun and secured it with two bobby pins. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Gray wasn't her color, but the uniform fell over her trim figure nicely. She tied the accompanying apron around her waist.

“So just to review,” Park said. “Poppy apparently didn't leave the hotel like she told us she did. Tallula saw her coming out of the gift shop, which will have to be proven. Ina was in the shower and she allegedly didn't hear anything. And she found her hearing aid broken on the floor when she came out of the bathroom.” She slipped on the apron and stood up straight. “And maybe, just maybe, Poppy and Ina killed him together.” Park knew she sounded overly confident, but she
also
knew that when it came to crime, the level of coincidence was staggering.

Beside her, Madison nodded thoughtfully. “Together they could have totally chucked him overboard.”

“Well then…” Lex froze and swallowed hard. “What does that say about the séance we're attending tonight? If Poppy and Ina are in on something, then—”

“Then it means we'll probably be in mortal danger,” Park said matter-of-factly but still offhandedly. “Anyway, Lex, how was your date with the borough beefcake?”

Lex felt herself blush. “Very nice. He's a sweetheart.”

“And he's got the hottest bod this side of the Atlantic.” Park gave her a thumbs-up. “He must bench-press his freakin' weight every day.”

“I didn't ask him about his workout routine,” Lex said. Then she smiled devilishly. “But I'm hoping to see him minus the T-shirt soon.”

Madison yanked the pant legs of her mannish uniform up to her waist. “I think it's great that you like him and all, but shouldn't you be concerned with another very important matter?”

“Which one?” Lex asked.

Madison sighed as she pulled the uniform over her arms and zipped it up. “You told us he lives in Brooklyn,” she said, a little disappointedly. “That absolutely qualifies as a long-distance relationship. Don't you have to take a train there or something?”

“I've actually thought about that already,” Lex told them. “And here's how I see it: if this relationship really does turn into something long-term, Brooklyn and I will just have to do the bulk of our dating in SoHo. That's a nice meeting-up midpoint for both of us. And for our six-month anniversary, I'll buy him a car or something.”

Madison nodded. “Not such a bad idea. I guess it could work if you look at it that way. But at
some
point, you're going to have to go to Brooklyn to meet his family or his friends, and for that…” Her voice trailed away gravely.

“What?” Lex said. “Finish what you were going to say.”

Park put a hand on Lex's shoulder. “For that, honey, we're going to have to tease your hair up high and paint your fingernails red, otherwise you'll stick out like costume jewelry at Cartier.”

For a split second, Lex lost her balance and leaned into Park as if she were going to faint. “My God,” she whispered, “I never thought of that. You mean you'd have to use actual hair spray?”

“Straight from the drugstore,” Park said flatly. “I know it sounds awful, but it's the truth. There's no point in sugar coating it.”

“But I wouldn't worry about that yet,” Madison said, trying to sound encouraging. She slipped the ugly green baseball cap over her head. “If the two of you hit it off, maybe you'll be able to get away with just wearing spandex pants with white sneakers.”

“Or one of those black sequined dresses from Loehmann's,” Park added. “You know, the ones that you can spot at every Italian wedding. They're not
so
bad if you add the right accessories.”

Madison crinkled her nose. “I hate those things. She'd be better off wearing something from Lord and Taylor.”

“Stop!” Lex cried. “You're both really scaring me!”

Madison reached out and hugged her protectively. “Don't be scared. If it comes to that, Park and I will tease our hair up too just to give you some company.”

The fear in Lex's eyes softened. “You promise?”

“Promise,” Park said.

“Me too,” Madison added. “But right now, let's go. I think we're ready.”

Still cringing, Lex reached for her magic purse.

“That looks kind of silly,” Madison observed. “A maid sporting a two-thousand-dollar bag?”

“I got that covered.” Lex stepped into one of the bathroom stalls and pulled from it a housekeeping cart: the first row was stacked with dusters and paper towels and cans of Lysol; the wide bottom portion was covered on both sides by miniature drapes. She pulled back one of them and clapped twice.

Coco's head popped out. “It stinks in here!” she said. “I can barely breathe!”

“Deal with it.” Lex handed her the magic purse, and a second later Coco disappeared behind the concealing drape again.

Madison nodded weakly. “I forgot about your little assistant hiding down there. Now, what's the plan?”

“Park and I will take one elevator, and you take another,” Lex explained. “We'll all meet by the banks on the thirtieth floor, and from there we'll take another elevator to the penthouse.”

“Where's Brooklyn in all this?” Madison asked.

“He's meeting us halfway up.” Lex patted her bun so that the few unsecured strands wouldn't fall over her eyes. “And if we're lucky, we'll find something that proves Ina could've killed Elijah, or that she and Poppy were in on it together. I just hope Ina doesn't board a plane home tomorrow.”

“I told you Tallula said she only
thought
she overheard Ina saying that,” Madison whispered. “But I have to admit, something's not right with that whole Ina story.”

“Then we'll just have to meet her tomorrow,” Park said, picking up a duster and batting it playfully at Madison.

Lex pushed the cart toward the bathroom door and gestured her head at Madison. “See you thirty stories up. Any problems, just text me.”

Madison nodded, then ducked out of the bathroom and hung a sharp left.

Lex and Park, clad in their maids' uniforms, turned right, pushing the cart gingerly down the hall. An elderly couple passed them, and Lex made certain to smile curtly. “This uniform is totally itchy,” she said quietly over her shoulder.

“Just forget it,” Park answered. “We can't stop to scratch now.”

The elevator bank was just ahead.

“Hurry,” Park whispered. She reached out and grabbed a duster from the top of the cart; she fluffed it over the window displays and the walls, making a pretense to look busy.

Lex gave the cart a hard push; it hit a bump on the floor and shook.

“Ouch!” Coco yelped, her disembodied voice echoing through the hall.

Lex plastered a nervous smile on her face. The cart hit another bump.

“Hey!” Coco snapped from inside the cart. “Can you please take it easy?”

Park stepped in front of Lex, going around to the side of the cart. She lifted her left leg and jabbed it into the curtains, hitting Coco in either the shoulder or the arm. “Keep your mouth shut!” she warned her. “Don't say a word!”

Instead of responding, Coco made a low, growling sound.

Park fell back in step with Lex. “Hey, did you remember to bring the shoes?”

“In my purse,” Lex replied. “But you still haven't told me what they're for.”

“You'll find out once we get upstairs. Here, let me help you.” Park laced her fingers around the bar of the cart and applied extra weight to it so that it coasted down the long hall faster.

She and Lex looked up just as a man in a business suit came out of one of the bathrooms.

He glanced at them as he walked away. Then he came to a dead stop and glanced at them again. “Excuse me,” he said. “Can I ask—”

“We have cleaning emergency!” Park called out in her best Swedish accent. “Questions to front desk.”

They rushed past him, the cart jiggling from side to side, the cans of Lysol rolling back and forth in the upper bin.

Her heart pounding, Lex stared down at the floor. That was when she noticed what the man had obviously seen—the fingers of Coco's left hand poking out from one end of the cart.

“Forget it,” Park said. “Keep moving.”

And together, they did just that, swinging the cart around the bend at the end of the hall and racing into the first open elevator. Park hit the button for the thirtieth floor, then they both leaned back against the walls and exhaled.

But the doors didn't close; instead, they yawned back open as the elevator welcomed another passenger.

It was Ina Debrovitch.

14

To the Penthouse

S
he was in her own little disguise—black turban, wire-rimmed glasses, an ankle-length blue skirt—but her face was instantly recognizable. Ina Debrovitch would always be recognizable, courtesy of the star-shaped birthmark on her chin. She had done a poor job of trying to conceal it with cheap, drugstore-bought foundation.

Park and Lex stared at each other. The words
holy shit
were etched in their eyes. Suddenly the elevator seemed far too small.

Park quickly set the example by casting her gaze downward and assuming a rigid posture.

Lex followed suit. But just as she turned her head away, she caught a glimpse of Coco's hand peeking out of the cart again. She couldn't tap the hand with her foot because Coco would make another sound—or, worse, she might even stick her head out and say something. The girl wouldn't know stealth if it bit her in the butt.

Ina was standing with her back to them, staring up at the numbers as the doors closed and the elevator ascended. She was visibly tense: shoulders squared, head bent. She reached out and pushed the number-twelve button.

Park counted off the seconds on her fingers. One, two, three…the damn elevator just wasn't moving fast enough. But even more worrisome was the fact that the steel doors acted like a mirror, reflecting everything back so that Ina could see her and Lex even without turning around. Through the corner of her right eye Park tried to make out what she could, any little detail. All she saw was the outline of Ina's turban, and how it covered her ears.

Only a few more seconds,
she thought, the panic rising in her blood.
Please don't look at us. Don't recognize us.

Lex was unconsciously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She didn't so much as blink.

But she started when a sneeze echoed through the elevator. A loud, wet sneeze that had come from the housekeeping cart.

Aaaahhhhhhh-choooooooooooooo!

Park make a quick pretense of lifting her hand to her nose and shaking her head. If Ina turned around or stared at the doors to see who was behind her, she would see that little move and, with any luck, think nothing of the sneeze.

Lex turned beet red.

The elevator came to a stop with a loud
ding
and the doors opened. Ina stepped out onto the twelfth floor and made a sharp right.

It wasn't until the doors closed and the elevator started moving again that Park let out a mammoth sigh. “Holy shit!” she said. “I can't believe it!”

“Do you think she recognized us?” Lex asked worriedly.

“I'm not sure. I couldn't tell. What the hell is she doing here? Madison said she and Tallula checked out last night.”

“And why did she get off at the twelfth floor?”

Park fanned herself with her hand. “I have no idea. But that was too close. I totally thought she was going to turn around and say something. Did you see her getup?”

“Awful!” Lex said. “That turban looked like a tablecloth.”

“Who are you talking about?” Coco's head popped out from the bottom of the cart again.

“Get back in there and
don't move
until I tell you to!” Lex snapped. “Got it?”

Coco grunted. “It's not easy being down here! And I'm totally freaked about being in these elevators again—they scare the hell out of me.”

“Get in!” Lex hissed, shoving at Coco with her shin.

Coco retreated into her little cubbyhole again just as the elevator stopped, dinged, and opened on the thirtieth floor. Lex and Park shoved the cart out into the hallway.

Madison was waiting at the last elevator. Beside her was Brooklyn DiMarco, dressed in his simple uniform.

“What the hell took you two so long?” Madison gave a worried look.

“We just saw Ina Debrovitch in our elevator!” Lex said, a bit too loudly.

Brooklyn waved his hands. “Shhhhhhhh! You've gotta keep it down, okay?”

“Sorry.” Lex gave him a quick wink.

Madison reached out and grabbed her arm; the movement was so sudden, the cap on her head tipped over onto her forehead. “Are you serious? What the hell is she doing here? Where is she now?”

“Twelfth floor,” Park said. “She hung a right out of the elevator.”

“The twelfth floor?” Brooklyn sounded skeptical. “You sure?”

Park nodded. “Positive. Why?”

“Most of the twelfth floor is undergoing renovation right now,” he said. “I don't even think anyone's down there.”

“Someone has to be there,” Lex told him.

Brooklyn turned his attention to the elevator that had just opened to his left. He motioned them inside.

Madison and Lex took hold of the cart, pushing it into the elevator.

It took less than thirty seconds to reach the forty-second-floor tower suites.

Once they were standing in the long, lavish foyer that led to penthouse four, Madison tapped on the cart. “Come on, Coco. You can get out of there now.”

With a long, weary sigh, Coco climbed out from her cubbyhole on all fours, moaning and stretching like a cat. Lex's magic purse dropped to the floor.

Lex bent down to pick it up. “Jeez, it really is tiny in there. Thank God you're so small.”

“Small or not, I feel like a pretzel,” Coco snapped. She shivered as she looked around at the all-too-familiar surroundings. “I hate being here. I never wanted to see this place again.”

“Well, I need you to show me exactly what happened,” Park said gently. “So try to keep your head clear.” She turned around. “Hey, Brock. Bust open the door.”

Brooklyn scanned the long hallway. It was clear. “Shit,” he whispered. “My dad finds out about this, I'll get totally sacked.”

“If anyone finds out, just blame us,” Park said calmly.

Brooklyn smirked. “You girls must have really sweet lawyers.”

“We do,” Madison said. “But we have even better publicists.”

In one smooth gesture, Brooklyn slipped the key into place and turned the lock. He threw open the door and waved them all inside.

It was dark in the suite. Slats of light filtered in through the windows, but shadows loomed in every corner. There was a scraping sound from one of the walls as Brooklyn searched for a switch; he found it a few seconds later and flipped it.

They were standing in the wide foyer. The sheer elegance of the furnishings was instantly evident, but as they tiptoed into the large living room, Madison, Park, and Lex recognized the telltale signs of police presence: the yellow tape scattered across the floor, the remnants of fingerprint powder. The suite, still in the stages of evidence collection, had not been cleaned by the maintenance staff.

“Be careful where you walk,” Park warned everyone. “And don't touch anything.”

“Shit. The cops really tore this place apart,” Brooklyn whispered.

Madison found herself marveling at the interior again. “I just love this old English décor. These antiques are incredible!”

Park stared in the direction of the two closed doors at the far end of the room—the doors that led out onto the balcony. She circled the two sofas and the Queen Anne chairs. The seating area was a good distance away, but if her suspicions were correct, none of that would really matter. “Okay,” she said. “Let's do this.” She looked at Lex. “Did you bring the goods?”

Lex nodded and opened the magic purse. She pulled out the pair of stunning Akiko Bergstrom heels Coco had worn the day before and held them out.

“You didn't even tell me why you needed those,” Coco suddenly said. “You're not gonna make me put them on again, are you?”

“Yep, I am.” Park took them from Lex and handed them over to Coco.

With a grimace, Coco kicked off her flats and slipped into the pair of silver heels. “They are beautiful,” Coco mumbled thoughtfully. But her expression changed to a wince of pain the second the shoes were on her feet.

“I hate to have to point this out to everyone,” Park said firmly. “But those shoes are
not
real.”

“What?”
Coco shrieked. Her face flushed.

“They're fakes,” Park continued. She pointed down at Coco's feet. “Akiko Bergstrom heels are expensive and incredibly well made. But, I can tell you right now that the ones you're wearing are fakes, Coco. The straps that go across the top of the foot—”

“These have straps!” Coco cut in, clearly offended.

“Yes, they do,” Park said. “But if you look at those straps, you'll notice that they go from inside to outside, meaning that the clasp is outside of each shoe.”

Coco grunted. “So?”

“A signature of these shoes is the straps—on real pairs, they only go from outside to inside.” Park made a genuinely apologetic face. “That's an absolute fact. I didn't notice it yesterday at the luncheon because I really didn't look at your feet. But when I saw that full-body shot of you in the paper this morning, it hit me. I'm sorry to have to tell you that those little numbers on your feet are
fashion contraband.
”

Madison gasped. “At five thousand dollars a pair?”

Lex, unable to accept the news, lost her balance and stumbled straight into Brooklyn's arms. She was horrified, but the move had been purely strategic: she wanted those arms around her.

“Hey!” Brooklyn said, holding her tightly. “Lex, are you okay?”

“I'll be…fine,” she said faintly. “I…I just need a minute.” With a sudden burst of energy, she spun around and, pressing herself hard against Brooklyn's chest, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Jeez,” he said. “That shoe thing is pretty bad, huh?”

“It's
awful,
” Lex whispered, purposefully letting her weight hang.

Brooklyn scooped her up, holding her sideways like a newly married groom about to carry his bride into a honeymoon suite. “That feel better?” he asked, smirking.

Lex smiled.
“Much.”
She kept her arms linked around his neck.

“I can't believe it!” Coco cried. “My mom said she got these directly from an exclusive boutique in Hong Kong!”

“They're obviously a copycat pair,” Madison said gravely. “That's why they hurt so much. As soon as you get home, throw them out.”

Park held up a hand. “Don't throw them out yet—I have a feeling they're going to come in handy as evidence. Lex, could you please lend me Brock for a minute? I need his…outstanding physique.”

Brooklyn flushed as Lex hopped out of his arms.

“Fine,” Lex whispered in Park's ear. “But be quick—he's on loan.”

Park bit her tongue to keep from laughing. “Okay,” she said. “Coco, tell us exactly where you and Elijah were standing when you started arguing.”

“Right there.” Coco pointed to the wide area between the sofas. “We started out by sharing…a little kiss on the couch. But then when he started getting rough, I pushed him away from me, and then we were standing up, facing each other.”

“Let's pretend Brock is Elijah,” Park said. She went around to his side and moved him into position. Then she took Coco by the arm and placed her into position as well, so that they were facing each other. “Does that feel familiar?”

Coco nodded. She heaved a sigh as tears sprang to her eyes.

“No crying!” Madison warned. “There's no time to fix your makeup.”

Coco swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. “Okay.”

“Now,” Park continued, “let's just pretend that you wanted to shove Elijah clear across the room toward the balcony doors.”

“But the balcony doors were closed,” Coco said.

“It doesn't matter.” Park waved her hands. “Let's just pretend. Go ahead and start pushing at Brock. Pretend he's Elijah. Go. Start pushing him.”

“What are you doing?” Madison asked quietly.

“Never mind,” Park said. “Coco, start pushing him. Shove him hard. As hard as you can. Brock is a little bigger than Elijah was, but not by much. It'll still prove my point. Coco—
shove him.
”

Taking a deep breath, Coco began batting her hands against Brooklyn's chest and stomach. She looked like a mouse going up against a lion. She pushed him twice, then stopped.

“Again,” Park instructed her. “Do it hard. Just like you would have when Elijah was getting rough with you. Defend yourself, Coco. You're fighting for your own safety, right?”

Coco repeated the shoving motion.

“Harder!” Lex snapped. “That sleazy dweeb tried to hurt you.”

“But this isn't what happened!” Coco said desperately. “I didn't shove Elijah like this.”

“That's what I'm trying to prove,” Park answered. “Just keep pushing.”

Grunting, her forehead breaking out in a line of sweat, Coco began ramming her weight against Brooklyn with all her might, fingers splayed.

Brooklyn didn't seem to be feeling anything. His body inched back slowly, but Coco's petite frame was nothing against his own.

With a final, raging grunt, Coco shoved into him; as she did so, she stumbled back and to the right. The heel of her right shoe snapped off, and she went sailing toward the floor.

Lex's arms shot out and caught her.

“Oh!” Coco said, slamming into Lex. “Oh my God!”

Park bent down and picked up the broken heel. She held it up. “Now, an authentic Akiko Bergstrom heel would never snap under your weight,” she explained. “Those shoes are designed with a steel support that is actually anchored within the body of the shoe. These are fakes, but that's not what's important. If you had really shoved Elijah with all your weight—hard enough to send him over the balcony—this heel would've broken yesterday, not right now.”

“That's totally right!” Coco said, her eyes wide and suddenly hopeful. “Park, you proved it!” She kicked off both shoes and jumped back into her flats.