Dead Ringer

Chapter 9

"So he had easy access to the other side," I said after Kate had dropped the drape. "But what's his motive?"

"Lots of pretty diamonds?"

I gazed around me at the gaudy but sparse space. "Okay, I'll go with your theory that the cute but dumb hairdresser managed to cut the power, pass through the drape to our side, and snatch the diamonds. But then where did he put them? We saw him get patted down when he left the room."

"Don't forget that his accomplice could have cut the power," Richard said. "Giving him more time to grab and then stash the rings."

"What accomplice?" I pulled my phone out of my jeans as it pinged to let me know I had a text.

"He's a hairdresser," Richard said. "What about the model?"

"That waif in the too-tight, see-through dress? She can barely move in that thing, so I doubt she'd be much help. Besides, she's a model the show provided. I doubt he's laid eyes on her before today." I read the text from Fern. "The dress rehearsal for the fashion show is about to begin."

Richard's face perked up. "I'm up for a fashion show. Anything to save me from the DJ's sound checks."

"Well, you're wrong there," Kate said.

I held out my phone. "I don't think so. He says to come up ASAP."

"No, about Christopher and the model. He's definitely dating her."

"How can you know something like that?" I asked Kate as we walked with Richard toward the ballroom exit. We paused to be cleared by the security team that was frisking everyone leaving the ballroom with Richard complaining loudly that they were wrinkling his shirt.

"The real question is when have you ever known me to be wrong about something that involves dating?" Kate asked.

"You make a good point." Kate did boast an uncanny ability to determine if a couple was involved and even how involved with a single glance. She considered it her superpower.

"And you know that Christopher is dating the model because . . .?"

Kate reached over and rested her hand on the small of Richard's back.

He took a step away. "I beg your pardon?"

"Exactly." She snapped her fingers. "That's not something you do to a colleague or a friend or a model you just met this morning. But Christopher did that to this model, and that tells me that he knows her. Very well."

I nodded at Kate in admiration. "You're like Sherlock Holmes meets Tinder."

"Look at you talking about Tinder," she said. "I'm swelling with pride."

"Just because I've heard about swiping right on your phone to meet Mr. Right doesn't meet I have any intention to ever use the app." The thought of dating being distilled down to an app on my smartphone that offered me pictures of men to either accept (swipe right) or reject (swipe left) horrified me. I'd convinced myself that I'd rather stay single than resort to finger swiping.

"Too bad," Kate said. "I'd be happy to help you swipe."

I pushed the call button for the elevators. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Richard, tell Annabelle that she's being ridiculous about dating apps."

"Annabelle, you're being ridiculous if you're using dating apps," he said.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Kate swatted at him as the far elevator doors pinged and then opened.

Richard held his palm against the motion sensitive elevator doors as Kate and I stepped on. The elevator closed, and I pushed the button for the top floor.

"Remind me again why you care so much about these diamonds?" Richard asked as the elevator surged upward.

I forgot that he'd stomped off before I'd promised Lorinda that we would find out who'd taken her diamonds. "So Lorinda can recover her diamonds and the show won't be canceled."

Richard crossed his arms over his chest. "And why, pray tell, are the police not involved? Wouldn't things go faster if there were detectives here?"

"The police are busy with something else," I said. "Plus, Lorinda doesn't want to file a police report if she can avoid it. She says her father will crucify her if he finds out."

Richard nodded. "Well, she's right about her father. He's awful, and he'd most certainly blame her."

"You seem to know a lot about the man," Kate said.

"I only met him once, but he falls into my top ten list of unpleasant clients," Richard said.

"Wow, that's saying something." I'd worked with enough of Richard's clients to know that those were bold words.

Richard studied me. "So you're determined to find the diamonds before the police arrive because you and Lorinda are such good friends?"

"Not entirely," I said, stepping out of the elevator the second it arrived at the top floor of the hotel. "I do want to help her. I feel bad for her as another businesswoman who's working hard to get ahead. I also don't want to police to shut down the show."

"Are those the only reasons?" Kate asked.

Richard chased after me as I strode down the hallway to the right. "Are they?"

I stopped in front of the large white doors leading to the Altitude Ballroom. "There may be a small part of me that isn't eager to run into Detective Reese."

Richard darted a hand out and held it against the doors so I couldn't open them. "You know he isn't the only officer on the force. The chances he'd show up to a burglary are small."

"Not with my luck," I muttered.

"Anyway, how hard could it be to find a few diamonds?" Kate asked. She pulled open the door to the Altitude Ballroom and we all stared open-mouthed. The ballroom had a wall of windows on the left side with the window shades drawn up to highlight the view and let in light. Funky petal-shaped light fixtures hung from the whitewashed beamed ceiling, and a transparent, illuminated runway extended halfway down the length of the room. Rows of clear Plexiglass chairs surrounded the runway and filled most of the floor space. A white drape embedded with crystals created a backdrop to the runway, and above the runway were thousands of clear wires strung with crystals and suspended so that the room appeared to be dripping in diamonds.

Kate met my eyes. "Well, this could be a problem."