Dara, we’ll just have to watch the budget. There might be a point where we’ll need to ask her to go part-time for a while.”
Kit groaned. She hated the idea of throwing Dara such a curveball.
“This will blow over eventually,” Baby said. “We may just have to lay low for a few weeks.”
“Right—as long as nothing else happens.” But even as she said the words, she knew she couldn’t bank on them. Whoever was wrecking havoc in her life wasn’t done. “Baby, you don’t deserve any of this. If you want out, just say the word, and I’d totally understand.”
She meant it, but the idea made her reel. She couldn’t help but be reminded of her father, his business unraveling, their life going inexorably to hell with the speed of a bullet train.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to be cowed by any of this,” Baby assured her. “But there’s one more strategy I’d suggest immediately. We should call all our existing clients.”
“And inform them of what’s going on?” Kit said, taken aback. That didn’t seem shrewd at all.
“No, no, just find an excuse to touch base, demonstrate to them that life is normal. Then when they do learn of this, they’ll know we’re still business as usual. And some of them may never get wind of it. Not everyone reads the tabloids.”
Kit nodded in agreement. While Baby settled in her study, Kit set up her phone and laptop at the mahogany table in the dining room. Before starting to reach out to clients, she checked the office voicemail. She and Dara had decided earlier that rather than have calls to the office forwarded to either of their cell phones—and risk being caught off guard—they would simply check for voicemail messages throughout the day. To her dismay there were half a dozen calls from media outlets about Avery Howe’s death. She jotted down the info to pass along to Baby’s friend if she came on board.
Next she jumped online. There were already a couple of posted items about the death, one stating that “PR Maven Avery Howe” had died in a mysterious fall and that police were investigating. To her dismay, a Daily News post was even more specific. Avery Howe had died “while at the Elizabeth Street offices of Finn-Meadow, an interior design firm she was working with.”
She hurried into Baby’s study and broke the news.
“I’ve already spoken to my friend, and she’s volunteered to return media calls,” Baby said. “She says the best strategy is to appear cooperative, but direct attention away from the firm as much as possible.”
“How do we do that?”
“She says by giving them a name of someone else to talk to. Like that detective you like so much.”
“Perfect,” Kit said, pleased at the idea of sending them all Burke’s way.
Back in the dining room, Kit took a deep breath and started on client calls, the first to Layla Griggs. The Greenwich Village project was nearly completed so she had no fear of losing it, but she had always banked on Griggs being a good reference and she didn’t want to end on anything but a winning note.
“Hi, Layla,” she said when she reached her. “I just wanted to check in. The workmen have moved all the furniture back into the bedroom, right?”
“Yes, but the comforter hasn’t arrived yet. I thought you said it would be here this week.”
“It should have been. Let me investigate. Also, the rug is finally scheduled for delivery next week.”
“My husband says they built the pyramids in less time than it has taken for that rug to make an appearance.”
Kit forced a laugh. “It does seem like that, doesn’t it? But it will definitely be there this week, and then we’ll want to focus on adding a few very cool accessories. The icing on the cake.”
Big sigh from Layla. “Good.”
She tried Holt next. That situation particularly worried her because it was in its early stages. Holt already knew about the break-in and if he learned that a client had died in her stairwell, he might have second thoughts about going forward with her.
An assistant or office manager answered and when Kit gave her name, the woman murmured, seeming to recognize it.
“He’s just finishing up with a patient,” she added, “but let me check. He may be able to speak to you momentarily.” She placed Kit on hold and then came back a moment later. “I’m sorry but he’ll have to call you back.”
“No problem,” Kit said, but she felt a twinge