Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,81
close on her heels. “Talk to me, Tori, please. What’s going on?”
“Did she leave anything behind? Anything at all?”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Beth,” she explained over her shoulder as she ran back and forth between the dresser and the nightstand looking for anything that could serve as confirmation of the notion swirling around in her thoughts. “Did she leave anything behind? Anything at all?”
He grabbed hold of her arms and stepped in front of her, blocking her second lap around the room. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for proof.”
“Proof? Of what?”
“That she did it. That she killed Ashley Lawson.”
His mouth gaped open and he stumbled back a step. “Beth? You think Beth killed Ashley Lawson?”
She wiggled free of his hands and strode over to the closet, yanking it open before her feet even came to a stop. “It makes sense, don’t you see? She lied about those designs. She told me she drew them and she didn’t.”
Milo held up his hands and dropped onto the edge of the bed. “What does that have to do with anything? I thought it was one of the party moms.”
“We know it wasn’t one of my friends. They don’t have it in them to kill anyone. And then I was leaning toward Samantha Smith because, well, she just seemed to be a likely candidate. But now, after what you said about Beth and her inability to draw, it all makes sense now.”
“Wait. Please. Come sit. Explain this to me so I can understand.”
She ran her hands along Milo’s clothes, finding nothing that belonged to Beth whatsoever. Not a shirt, not a pair of pants, not a dropped design . . .
Defeated, she wandered over to the bed and sat down, the flapping of her Milo-induced butterflies rivaled only by the pounding of her heart. “Why would she lie about creating those designs other than to cover up how she got them in the first place?”
“I don’t know, maybe out of embarrassment? Or some misguided sense of pride?”
“Maybe, under different circumstances. But if someone in her company had drawn them she’d have simply said that, wouldn’t she?”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“But if she got ahold of them illegally, she might be more inclined to lie about the how. To cover her tracks.”
“Okay.” He rolled his right hand in a gentle motion as he wrapped his left around her shoulders. “Go on.”
“We know Ashley was a designer. That’s what she did for Regina’s company . . .” Her words trailed off as another piece of the puzzle dropped into place.
“The first six have been . . . misplaced. But I’m sure they’ll turn up. Soon. In the meantime, the ones I have are showstoppers.”
Six designs.
“That’s it! Oh my gosh, that’s it! The designs she’s been saying are hers? They’re part of a collection Regina was in the process of using to secure a partnership with Fredrique Mootally.”
“Fredrique Mootally? Who’s that?”
“According to Regina, he’s the top adult pageant designer in the country. Only he won’t strike the deal unless she has all twelve designs.”
“I’m not following.”
“She only has six.”
“And . . .”
“According to Regina, the other six were”—she shot two fingers from both of her hands into the air and wiggled them up and down—“misplaced.”
Reality dawned on Milo’s face as he began to see the puzzle the same way Tori did. “You think the six designs Beth showed you are the missing six?”
She stared up at him. “They could be. It certainly makes sense.”
“You think she stole them?”
For a moment she said nothing, her mind working to piece together the various snippets of facts and suspicions she’d managed to come up with thus far. “I think she killed Ashley to get them.”
“Then why wouldn’t Regina be screaming foul?”
That’s the part she couldn’t quite figure out. Unless . . .
“Unless she truly thinks they’ve been misplaced,” she mumbled. Looking around the room, she pushed off the bed and spread her arms wide. “But I need proof. Something we can take to Chief Dallas so he doesn’t think I’m a complete nut.”
Milo, too, stood. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something that could help but she didn’t leave anything behind except . . .” Milo whirled around and headed toward the hallway as he beckoned Tori to follow. “She did use the desk in my office one day after she moved in. She said she was reworking her logo and needed a well-lit area. I don’t know if she cleaned everything up that first day—she may have, but I know