Free Hostile Makeover by Ellen Byerrum Page B

I’ll open—that is, we will show the collection on the West Coast, in Beverly Hills. Then New York. Saks is going to carry the line.”
    “Washington is the first stop on the tour?”
    “Of course. I wanted everyone to see where I came from—and where I’ve ended up. Do I have anything to prove? You’d better believe I do.”
    And when you grow up, you get to be Joan Crawford in Amanda Dearest.
    “We really wanted our friends around us for this happy occasion. We’ve worked so hard to get to this point,” Zoe said. Lacey wondered if she were taking some kind of happy pills. “Greg and Amanda were still together when this was planned. Greg’s speech for the surgeons’ conference was on board even before that.”
    “They planned to be in D.C. together?” Lacey asked.
    “He knew I would be here,” Amanda said.
    “Do you still love him?”
    “That doesn’t matter!” Her eyes teared up. Instead of answering, she waved one of Lacey’s news stories on a dead intern named Esme Fairchild. “You found this woman’s killer. And I want you to . . .”
    “To what?”
    “To find my killer before I die. Please.”
    That please was the only humble word Amanda had uttered, but it felt sincere.
    “I’ve never been asked to do that before. How do you suggest I go about it?” This was going to make great dinner conversation. But maybe not with Vic. Yvette returned quietly, pretending to rearrange dresses on the racks.
    “If you expose him before he tries to kill me, then maybe it won’t happen.”
    “You want me to libel a prominent plastic surgeon who is leading other doctors to donate their time and money to fix the faces of poor disfigured children.” I don’t think so. “What about the note you found? Your bodyguard says no one breached security.”
    “Greg is smart. He paid someone to put the note here. Don’t you see? It’s not libel if it’s true.”
    “You can’t prove it, and if you can, you should bring it to the police.”
    “But you promised!” Her whine suddenly climbed into a shriek. “Fawn! I need a warm-up. And it’s Earl Grey, not warmed-over hay!” But Fawn was nowhere to be seen. Lacey tried to bring things back to reality.
    “Amanda, I said in the event something happened, I would look into it. I did not agree to libel anyone. It’s hard to believe Spaulding would go after you so obviously. You’re way too high-profile. And you have security.”
    Amanda sat down in a sulk, as if out of steam. Lacey straightened up and readied her pen.
    “There’s something else we haven’t discussed,” Lacey said. “What happened to Caleb Collingwood?”
    Amanda stared at her silently.
    “I don’t know why you would bring him up now,” Zoe said carefully. “He’s been gone for years.”
    “I don’t want to talk about Caleb,” Amanda said.
    “You broke his heart, didn’t you?”
    Amanda shifted uncomfortably, then bolted up out of her chair. “I know all about those insane rumors. I know that people still think—”
    “That you killed him?” Lacey heard a camera whirring away and looked over at Penfield, who seemed completely absorbed in his work. I guess I’ve put a little spark in his documentary.
    “It’s crazy talk. The police even came one day.” Amanda looked particularly wounded. “Because I’m famous now.”
    “The police cleared Amanda of any suspicion,” Zoe interjected.
    “Then Collingwood has nothing to do with these threats?”
    Amanda closed her eyes momentarily. “Caleb is dead. And no, I didn’t kill him. He committed suicide. If you must know, he left me a note that I gave to the police after someone spread rumors that I had something to do with him disappearing.”
    “What did it say?” Lacey asked and she was conscious of a heavy silence. The background music had stopped.
    Amanda fixed her gaze past Lacey’s head as she recited the note from memory. “ ‘Caleb Collingwood dies tonight by his own hand. Don’t bother to look. You’ll never