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“So you’re surmising…what? That someone, presumably Helene’s killer, made off with a good deal of her art objects?”
“I know that sounds weird, but that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking,” Theodosia said.
“So what do you want to do about it? See if there’s an inventory list? Notify the police?” Drayton asked.
Theodosia pulled off her apron just as Haley and Beth Ann emerged from the kitchen. “I’ll have to think about that,” she said. “But right now I need to hotfoot it over to Delaine’s boutique. I’m still not sure how she did it, but she conned me into being one of her models.”
“Wow,” Beth Ann said. “You’re going to model in a real fashion show?”
“Cool,” Haley said.
“Please don’t be one bit impressed,” Theodosia said. “First off, I’m only doing this as a favor to Delaine. And second, there’s not going to be an actual runway with twirling lights and blaring music. It’s just going to be what’s called informal modeling.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Beth Ann said.
Theodosia made a lemon face. “You know what? Neither do I.”
24
Theodosia found out soon enough what informal modeling was. Because the minute she walked into Cotton Duck, Delaine grabbed her by the hand and pulled her through a chattering, glittering crowd of women. They headed for the back of the shop, where a large makeshift dressing room had been set up behind a pair of billowing white curtains.
“I’m so glad you agreed to help out,” Delaine hissed as, all around them, models pulled on clothes, sat for makeup artists, and talked on their phones as stylists braided extensions into their hair.
“Actually, you twisted my arm,” Theodosia said as she looked at all the tall, skinny, young women. “And by the way, Delaine, all these women appear to be professional models. I seem to be the only civilian here.”
“No, no,” Delaine said hurriedly. “There are a couple of other women who are doing this just for fun.”
“Where are they?”
Delaine’s brows pinched together. “Good question.” Then, just as fast, she changed the subject and switched into business mode. “Here now, let’s get you dressed up and looking glam.” She lifted a hand and pointed to a rolling rack of clothes. “I set aside three options for you.”
“And I’m supposed to pick one?” Theodosia asked.
“If you can manage a few quick changes, I’d love it if you could model all three looks. My guests always adore seeing what’s new.”
“Let’s worry about one look for now,” Theodosia said.
“All right, how about this silk evening gown?” Delaine pulled out a silver dress that was so sheer it looked as if it had been spun by starving silkworms.
“It’s awfully sheer.”
Delaine stuck out her lower lip. “That’s a very hip look right now.”
“But probably not for me,” Theodosia said.
Delaine indicated a second outfit, a strapless, figure-hugging black cocktail dress. “How about this jazzy little number? Of course, you’d have to wear Spanx with it, to suck everything in. Maybe even two pairs.”
“Skinny and strapless? I don’t think so.”
“Goodness, you do like to be covered up, don’t you?”
“What’s my third option?” Theodosia asked.
“How about this sundress?” Delaine said as she pulled it off the rack. “Spaghetti straps with a full, flouncy skirt, done in fuchsia and pink. Not too revealing, but very glam with a touch of fifties retro. You know, like Marilyn would have worn.”
“Sure,” Theodosia said. “As long as I don’t have to stand over a subway grate.” She didn’t exactly love the dress, but it was the least revealing of the three.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Delaine said. She waited while Theodosia slipped into the dress, then said, “Fits you like a glove. Now we need to accessorize, kind of merchandise you up.”
