I blinked. Suddenly unsure if I wanted to watch or quickly look away.
"Ohmigod, Dana," I said, grabbing her arm. "I think this is one of those kind of clubs."
Dana's eyes were riveted to the paddle in Leather Lady's hands. "Like a sex kind of club?"
"Like an S &M kind of club. I think she's gonna spank him."
No sooner had I gotten the words out than the paddle made a smacking sound and the crowd went wild, throwing up a cheer like Lady Leather had just scored a touchdown.
I covered my eyes.
Okay, I'll admit, I'm no sheltered virgin. But whips and chains were just a little out of my comfort zone. (And, yes, by "little" I do mean light years.)
Dana on the other hand had a very large comfort zone.
"Oh, this I gotta see," she said, moving forward
"Wait, Dana-" I protested. But it was too late. She was already fighting her way to the front of the crowd. I had two choices: stay here, alone, or follow her to the front row. I looked to my right. A guy in a spiked collar, leather chaps and little else gave me the eye.
"Wait for me!"
I wriggled my way forward, only hitting three people in the shins with my crutches, until I finally caught up with her. A long railing had been erected around the perimeter of the stage and I found Dana leaning both elbows onto it, her eyes kind of glazing over as she watched Lady Leather work her magic on Slave Boy.
"He's kind of cute, huh?" she asked, pointing to Slave Boy.
I wouldn't know. I still had my hand covering my eyes. I gingerly peeked between my ring and pinky fingers. Of course, wouldn't you know that would be the moment that Lady Leather chose to do away with Slave Boy's leather pants. I felt myself blush all the way down to my blonde roots as I caught an unwanted glimpse of full frontal Slave Boy.
I grabbed Dana's arm. "Ohmigod," I said.
Dana licked her lips. "I know. God, I miss Ricky."
"No," I shook my head. Not that Slave Boy didn't have an impressive… uh, package. But what had me grabbing Dana's arm like a vice grip was the fact that I recognized that package. It was the same one from Gisella's camera.
Slave Boy was Ryan Jeffries.
I left Dana upstairs to watch the rest of Ryan's scene while I walked back to the bar like a fish swimming the wrong way downstream. I'm pretty sure 90% of Club X's patrons would be going home with purple marks on their shins. I mumbled another, "Sorry," as I whacked a girl in three inch stilettos, fishnets and a black bodice, and deposited myself on a red velvet sofa to wait for Dana. Fifteen minute later she finally made an appearance, her eyes shining with an almost high look, one arm linked through Ryan's. Thankfully, he'd put the chaps back on, but I still felt myself flush as he and Dana sat down beside me.
"Maddie, you missed a great show," Dana said.
"I'll bet," I mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Ryan.
"Ryan, this is Maddie, the girl I was telling you about."
"Hi," he said. Then cocked his head to the side. "Say, have we met before?"
I shook my head. Nope, I was fairly certain this guy I would have remembered.
He was tall, at least six feet, with pale blond hair and bright blue eyes. Now that he was fairly vertical it was obvious he had a lean, muscular model's physique. I could easily envision him strutting down a runway in Calvin Kleins. I put his age in his late twenties to early thirties, probably a little old for the runway circuit now. Which might explain his latest place of employment.
"You sure?" he asked. "You look very familiar."
I shook my head. "Nope."
Then recognition dawned in his blue yes. "Wait, you're that designer that stabbed Gisella!"
"I didn't stab her. I swear. It's just a tabloid rumor."
He narrowed his eyes at me, not totally convinced.
"I swear, I would never hurt anyone!" I looked up at his collar. "Uh, I mean, I guess not that hurting someone is a bad thing. If they want to be hurt. Which clearly, you do. I mean, did. I mean, if you like that sort of thing. But I don't. I mean, I didn't. And definitely not Gisella and definitely not with a stiletto heel."
Ryan just looked at me.
I cleared my throat. "Um, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Gisella?"
I could tell he still had his reservations about me, but he nodded.
"Rumor has it you two were dating?"
"We were."
"How long?"
"About three months."
"And you went to Paris with her for Fashion Week?"
Again, he nodded again. "Yes. I thought it would be a good opportunity to make some new contacts. Since hitting thirty, things have dried up a little for me. I flew in with her last Friday and stayed until…" he trailed off, looking down at his hands.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I know this must be hard on you." When he didn't say anything, I plowed ahead. "Can I ask, when was the last time you saw Gisella?"
He bit a lip, his eyes focusing on a point just beyond my head. "Four nights ago? At her agent's party."
I frowned. Angelica said she'd heard a male voiced the night after that. "Are you sure? You didn't see her the following night?" I prompted.
He shook his head, a sad, faraway look in his eyes. "No. The party was the last time I saw her. She broke it off with me."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did she say why?"
He did a little humorless laugh. "She'd met someone new. Someone higher up in the food chain. She brought him to the party. Can you believe that? First she invites me to Fashion Week, then she shoves this guy in my face. What kind of woman does that?"
Ryan's volume climbed as he talked, his earlier grief quickly being replaced with anger. I wondered just how angry he'd been at the party. Angry enough to kill Gisella the following night?
"Gisella was wearing a necklace at the party," Dana piped up. "Did you see it?"
I leaned in, squinting through the dim light to gauge his reaction.
"Yes," he said without hesitation.
If he'd known Gisella had taken the necklace, he didn't let on.
"She said it was from Lord Ackerman's private collection," he said.
"It was stolen," I said.
His only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. "Really? Who took it?"
I hesitated to share our model-turned-jewel thief theory with him. But on the other hand, if he'd been working with her, it wouldn't be news to him. And if he was an innocent bystander in all this, what did we have to lose?
"We think Gisella did. We think she may have even been stealing jewelry from other designers' shows as well."
He shook his head, eyes on that faraway point again. "Wow. I had no idea. I'm not surprised, though. Like I said, she wasn't the most scrupulous person I've ever met."
"We think she may have had a partner. Someone who sold the stolen items for her," Dana said. "Any idea who that could be?"
He shrugged. "Sorry, I don't know. She didn't have any real close friends. Her agent and me were the only people she really spent much time with."
"What about the new guy?" I asked. "Is it possible he was helping her?"
Again he shrugged.
"You said you met him?"
He nodded. "Yeah. At the party."
"Did you happen to catch his name?"
He did a wry grin that held little humor. "Oh yeah. She made sure everyone at the party knew who she was there with. That wanker was a real feather in her cap, if you know what I mean."
"Who was it?" I asked.
He snorted again. "Lord Ackerman."
Chapter Ten
Felix? I think my heart stopped beating, the dark, tinted room swirling before my vision. Felix and Gisella?!
It had to be a mistake. She had to have been lying. Felix wouldn't go for a girl like that. Felix's type was… well it wasn't her.
I thought back. We'd been in her room together, we'd been searching for evidence of a boyfriend. And he hadn't told me he was it! I tried to remember our conversation, but all my brain could focus on was the fact that Felix has been sleeping with a supermodel.