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“What really happened? Oh God, you had me at hello. As I told you, I love mysteries and secrets.”
“I remember,” Bree said. “And I’m full of both.”
The fashion designer seemed to take great pleasure in that and asked the security guard to open the doors. Martin winked at her as she followed Luster through the doors into a shorthallway that ended in a large open room surrounded by smaller rooms with glass walls.
The center room housed the design team of one of the top fashion brands in the world. Artists, designers, cutters, and seamstresses all created a happy buzz of creativity; Bree and Luster walked through to a small office in the corner with a workbench, a drafting table, and a mannequin wearing a flowing lavender dress.
“It’s gorgeous,” Bree said as he closed the door.
“Do you think so?” Luster said, pleased, and gestured her to a couch.
“I love it,” Bree said, sitting. “Whose idea was it to have the fairies downstairs?”
“That was Tess’s four-year-old granddaughter, Eliza.”
“I think it’s enchanting. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’ll tell Eliza that the next time she’s in,” Luster said, taking a seat at the other end of the couch and shifting to face her. “So? What’s the dish?”
Bree said, “The main dish is that I am not Evelyn Carlisle, newly widowed gazillionaire from Newport Beach. My name is Bree Stone. Until quite recently, I was chief of detectives for the DC Metro Police.”
CHAPTER 41
LUSTER ACTED TAKEN ABACKand then fascinated. “My, my, you are like an onion, aren’t you? What’s the next layer you’ll peel back?”
“I currently work for an international security and investigations firm in Virginia called the Bluestone Group.”
“You’re some high-dollar private investigator?”
“I am,” Bree said.
The fashion designer’s eyes shifted left and down slightly before returning to Bree. “You’re investigating Frances Duchaine.”
“And Paula Watkins.”
“For whom? I hope you’re not going to say Tess.”
“No. I mean, I have no reason to believe so. It’s complicated.”
“Entertain me.”
Bree explained about the deep-pockets anonymous client who’d provided her with public, private, and sealed documents that hinted at Duchaine’s involvement in criminal activity.Luster studied her intently, his fist at his lips, his eyes revealing little.
“What kind of criminal activity?” he asked.
“Human trafficking.”
The fashion designer’s shock was complete. “What? No. That can’t be true. I know her and—”
“You mentioned she might have cash-flow issues.”
“I did, but—”
“When was the last time you worked for Frances?”
“Seven years ago?”
“You should know that there is a detective here with NYPD who believes Frances might have generated several hundred million dollars through the trafficking, cash that has allowed her to stay afloat despite the debts.”
