Shoe Done It by Grace Carroll

Author:Grace Carroll [Carroll, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780425244036
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

I bought two lattes and went back to work. It was a slow day, which was bad news for business and bad news for keeping one’s mind off of murder. I couldn’t stop thinking of that photo Jack had showed me. It couldn’t have been Dolce. In the first place, why wouldn’t she have told me she was there? “Because,” said a little voice in my ear, “she didn’t want anyone to know. If you don’t know, you can’t tell the police.” But if she was really there, then other people saw her. Why not ask them? I almost called Jack Wall back to tell him my suggestion. Second, why would she go to the Benefit at all? The answer to that one was obvious. To retrieve the shoes. Still, I couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it.

I rearranged the jewelry and hung a Swarovski crystal necklace on a mannequin with a black rolled-neck cashmere sweater—the combination looked stunning. Even though the big social weekend was over, I pressed a few gowns and rehung them on a rack. I chatted with customers and actually sold a scarf and a pair of gold hoop earrings. I wished I’d called the restaurant myself for a list of the reservations, but I knew Jack wouldn’t want me to interfere.

I was almost glad to see Peter Butinski come in. That’s how bored I was. He had brought in more shoes. But he didn’t return the magazine he’d lifted from Dolce’s desk.

“Have I got something for you,” he said to me. “Five fall shoes no girl can live without.” He sat himself down in one of Dolce’s padded chairs as if he belonged there. “That means you, Ms. Jewel.”

“Not for me, Peter, but I want to see what you’ve got.” When had I not been interested in the latest fashion footwear?

He opened the boxes. He was right: a girl could do worse than stocking up with his five selections—a kick-ass pair of boots in gray suede, a wooden wedge heel that could go anywhere from dusk to dawn, an updated clog, an open-back mule to wear now or later with tights, and a pump that looked totally classic but, he explained, was actually waterproof.

“You may not know this,” Peter said, “but the latest thing for fall is wearing a pair of chic socks with your strappy heels.”

“Socks, with strappy heels?” I was trying to visualize the combination.

He nodded and reached into his canvas bag. “Like these Falke over-the-knee socks in soft cotton. What do you think?”

I ran my fingers over the ribbed socks. They were incredibly soft and would look good with shorts and a pair of espadrilles.

“Fifty-five percent cotton, twenty-five percent virgin wool.”

“I love them,” I confessed, “but . . .” I was losing sight of my goal here, distracted as usual by something I just had to have. I forced myself to focus on the problem at hand. I looked at the shoes he’d set on the table.

There was just one thing missing.

“No silver stilettos, Peter?”

I expected him to tell me he could get them if I wanted them.

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