“No,” she said. “They’re not wrong at all. But we don’t want to keep spreading that information for shock’s sake.”
Anita nodded and smiled. “We need to do something to memorialize her.”
That thought alone caught Cayce in the back of her throat, because, of all the things, that was the hardest about Elena’s death, the fact that somebody had taken her skin, and they’d already planned to memorialize her in a way nobody else would understand. “If you want to come up with some ideas,” she said, “I’m in.” She reached up and rubbed her face.
“Oh, my God, did you get any sleep last night?”
She shook her head. “No, it was a pretty rough night.”
“I heard Naomi was pretty blasé about the whole thing.”
In defense of the replacement model, Cayce shrugged and said, “We were at an installation, and she was doing a job when we found out. She was definitely calmer than I was.”
“I am surprised she wasn’t cheering at the news,” Anita said with a waspish tone. “That would be more in character.”
Naomi was a very different kettle of fish in terms of personality. Where Elena had been lightness, sunshine, and butterflies, Naomi was darkness, storms, and shadows. She had a graspy greediness to her. But she’d never been a top model, and she was trying to gain in rank. With Elena’s position now open, it gave Naomi another spot to climb into. And that made Cayce frown. Was that a motive for murder?
Cayce made her way back to her small crowded office in her gallery, wondering if that attitude put Naomi on the detective’s watchlist. Or if Cayce should add Naomi to his list if it hadn’t. Somehow that felt completely wrong too. As if she were betraying the other model. She shook her head and decided that it was definitely not a road she needed to go down.
As soon as she sat down at her desk, her phone rang. She groaned as she realized business intruded into her day once again. The problem with being an artist was the fact that she didn’t get to be an artist all the time. The business aspect remained there always; people who wanted things from her, that she didn’t always want to give. But, since they provided the avenue for her to make a living with her artwork, she was forced to deal with them. It sucked big-time.
She lifted her head a little while later and wasn’t at all surprised to find that two hours had passed.
Just then Anita popped her head around the corner. “Hey, how you doing?”
She shrugged. “Doing. Whatever that means,” she said, “but everything is going ahead for next week’s installation.”
Anita’s face broke out into a smile. “They finally went through with it?”
She nodded and returned the smile. “Yeah, they just returned the signed contract.”
“Yeah, right at the last minute of course,” she snapped, shaking her head. “Good God.”
“I know, but, hey, … it’s work, right?”
“The trouble is,” Anita said, “that’s really tight. Do we have enough paint?”
“That’s what I’m about to find out,” she said. “Plus that installation design was done with Elena in mind.”
Anita’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Wow,” she said. “She will really be missed.”
“In many ways,” she said. “I don’t even know how to express what her absence will mean.”
“But we can do this.”
“We can,” she said with a smile, “but I’m not sure I want Naomi in this one.”
“Who are you thinking then?”
Cayce sat back and thought about the models that she’d used recently. “Why don’t we see if Candy is available? But I’ll want the hair gone right off.”
“Skullcap?”
“I can’t paint that either,” she said, frowning. She tapped her pen on the desk. “Unless we can find a way to make her hair fly out off to the side.”
“Part of the wind, you mean?”
“Something like that. Leave it with me while I figure it out.”
“That’s fine,” Anita said, “but you have a whole twenty minutes to figure it out.”
She glared at her, then snapped, “You’re wasting my twenty minutes.”
Anita chuckled and left.
“And put on some damn coffee,” Cayce yelled behind her.
“Will do,” she said.
With that, Cayce went back to looking at the diagram for next week’s installation, wondering which model she needed. She could try somebody new. It would certainly be a way to go forward after Elena. Cayce had seen an interesting model a few days ago.
She quickly went through a portfolio that she kept on various models. This one. Her name was Hartley, which was unusual in itself, but her looks were even more unusual, with a very angular jawbone, angular cheekbones. Somewhat masculine, but not quite. Determined maybe. Cayce didn’t have any problem with determination. That was a requirement of life.
*
“The bitch is gone,” the woman cried out, dancing and laughing through her apartment. “A spot opened above me,” she said with a chuckle. “Who knew?” She stopped, looking at herself in the mirror, then smiled, reached a hand through her long luxurious black locks, and said, “I’ll make it to the top! Yeah!”
Behind her, her best friend and coconspirator, even though he had no clue, Derek called out, “You know what happens to people at the top?” he asked.
“They fall,” she said, “but that’s got nothing to do with me.”
“You keep saying that,” he said, “but it really is something you need to keep an eye on.”
“Well, I didn’t kill her,” she snapped.
“Of course not. That would be too easy.”
She turned and glared at him.
“You’re just happy she’s gone.”
“Well, of course I am,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you could be a little more conservative in your joy.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she said with a laugh.
He sighed. “I’m heading out with Benjamin soon. Are you coming with us for breakfast?”
She looked over at her friend, then smiled and said, “Sweetie, you go eat. I’m eating on the fruits of my emotions right now.”
“Those are the emotions,” he said, “that will choke you.”
“They can try,” she said, “but,
