Nardwell specializes in antique firearms? And Nadine had been shot? What were the chances?
Now Theodosia watched the fashion show with only a modicum of interest as she pondered the idea of a jilted boyfriend who owned a gun collection. Really, an entire gun shop.
Was that just too strange, too convenient, too . . . something?
Of course it was. But what could she do about it? Well, nothing right now. But tomorrow morning . . . yes, tomorrow she would definitely get in touch with this Nardwell guy.
Theodosia forced herself to try and switch off her overtaxed brain and focus on the remainder of the fashion show. Let herself be seduced by the music, models, and bright-colored clothes, which were actually quite exciting.
A few deep breaths and she was finally able to semi-relax and enjoy the rest of the show.
The music switched from high-energy to kind of a world beat as the Lemon Squeeze Couture line came on. And, amazingly, the clothes turned out to be punchy and cute. Lots of yoga pieces accented with fun graphics, a few pieces done in scuba material, some in cozy fleece. One pair of joggers looked like it would be perfect for her nightly runs—it featured a small, lined zip pocket that could carry Earl Grey’s dog treats!
Next up was a line by local designer Echo Grace. These clothes were romantic to the max with plenty of pastels, ruffles, feathers, and fluttery sleeves. But instead of looking fusty and old-fashioned, they were amazingly contemporary. Like something with a cool factor that you’d wear to Coachella.
“You like this Echo Grace clothing line, don’t you?” Drayton whispered.
“I do,” Theodosia said as she applauded. “The designer has a real point of view.”
As the show ended, all the models came back out for one last jaunt down the runway, and the music rose to a crescendo. Theodosia was suddenly jolted back to reality—and thinking about the murder.
“Do you suppose Nadine was killed with an antique gun?” she asked Drayton.
He turned to her and lifted a single eyebrow. “If you’re thinking that Simon Nardwell was the killer, I can’t imagine he’d use an antique gun. Wouldn’t that be simplistically traceable?”
“It would be if that were a real term.”
“You know what I mean,” Drayton said.
“I do. But now we know for sure that Nardwell, Nadine’s possibly jilted boyfriend, is someone who can readily lay his hands on a firearm. Probably any kind of firearm, right?”
“I would assume he’s a licensed gun dealer, so yes.”
They stood up as the audience around them rose to their feet and continued to applaud.
“What do you want to do now?” Drayton asked.
Theodosia gazed across the crowded theater to the end of the stage where Eddie Fox, who’d just finished shooting footage of the show, was fiddling with his camera and talking to one of his lighting guys.
“I want to talk to Mr. Fox.”
* * *
* * *
Eddie Fox saw Theodosia coming and broke into a wide grin, “Hey, I remember you. You’re the tea lady from yesterday.” He pointed at her and snapped his fingers. “Theodosia something, right?”
“Theodosia Browning,” she said. “I was also the one who discovered Nadine’s body in the cooler.”
“Oof.” Fox slapped a hand against his chest. “What a shock, huh? Such a crazy thing to happen!”
“I’d say a brutal murder is beyond crazy,” Theodosia said. “It’s downright terrifying.” She was surprised that Fox was taking Nadine’s murder so lightly.
Fox shrugged. “Yeah, well . . . what can you do?”
“Solve Nadine’s murder for one thing.”
Fox looked suddenly interested. “You’re going to do that?”
“Probably not, but I would like to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Concerning . . . ?” As his gray eyes focused on her like lasers, Theodosia decided this man’s name might be Fox, but he had the eyes and bearing of a predatory wolf.
“Concerning Nadine, of course,” she said.
“What’s your interest in this?” Fox asked. “Aside from the fact that you were there yesterday.”
“Let’s just say I’m making a few inquiries on behalf of Nadine’s daughter.”
“Her kid. I see.”
Theodosia took a deep breath and plunged right in. “I understand you and Nadine were somewhat cozy.”
“Is that a euphemism for enjoying each other’s company?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Theodosia said.
“Yeah, well, we knew each other, sure. And, as they say, we were both consenting adults. Nadine was a good-looking woman, maybe a little self-centered, but what woman isn’t?”
Jerk, Theodosia thought.
“We hung out a couple of times, had a few laughs. But nothing seemed to click.”
“Still, you were friendly.”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Fox said.
“It’s funny, you don’t seem particularly broken up about Nadine’s murder.”
“Like I said, we never really hit it off. Besides, people express their emotions in lots of different ways.” Fox favored her with what felt like a forced look of sadness.
“I suppose you’re right,” Theodosia said. She wasn’t exactly getting bad vibes from Fox, though he did seem somewhat evasive. “Do you know if Nadine was having personal problems with anyone?”
“I can tell you she wasn’t enamored with Mr. Fancy Pants.”
“You’re referring to . . . ?”
“The big honch-o-roo, Marvin Chauvet,” Fox said. “They were constantly at each other’s throats. And I’m talking about down and dirty screaming matches.”
“What about?”
“Money, mostly. I don’t think Chauvet is as well-off as he pretends to be. Anyhoo, I’m surprised Nadine lasted there as long as she did.” Fox paused. “Well, I guess she didn’t.”
“Because someone wanted her out of the picture,” Theodosia said.
Fox shrugged. “Looks like.”
“Aside from office-related conflicts, is there a chance Nadine had an enemy outside of work?”
“Having an actual enemy sounds very Special Forces clandestine and maybe a little too out-there.” Fox stroked his chin as if deep in thought. “But I get what you’re saying. Still, nobody comes to mind that I can think of . . .”