Read Some Like It Haute: A Humorous Fashion Mystery (Style & Error Book 4) for Free Online

time for you to heal. For now, you’ll have to rely on me for whatever you need.”
    “I’m not moving in with you.”
    “Don’t worry. It’s temporary. And I’m not the babysitting type. Can you drive a motorcycle?”
    “No.”
    He tossed me a set of keys. The key fob was shaped like a flame. “Looks like the Stingray is your ride for the next couple of days, but for the record, I think it’s best that you stay away from the places you usually go.”            
    “Why?”
    “You don’t know who attacked you or why. You might be able to explain it away as a wrong place/wrong time kind of thing, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence.”
    “You think someone might still be after me?”
    He nodded once. The thought, now verbalized, was scary. I wanted to discount his theory but at my core, I agreed with him.
    After breakfast was finished, Dante shrugged into his black leather jacket and left the house. As soon as his motorcycle disappeared around the curve of Duryea Drive, I tossed the dirty dishes in the sink and changed the channel to the local news. I’d expected the fire to be the top story. It wasn’t.
    In typical obsessed-with-celebrity nature, the top story was about how the rising star in the modeling world had been spotted on a plane that landed in Mexico last night.
    Somehow, in the middle of all of the chaos, Harper had managed to skip town.
     

6
    Grainy footage of Harper stepping off of the plane filled the screen. The clip was only a few seconds long and seemed to have been filmed from someone’s cell phone. Harper’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore an oversized black topcoat and jeans. A duffle bag hung over one shoulder, the only luggage she appeared to have with her. She looked directly at the person filming her, hoisted the duffle bag strap higher, and hustled the other direction. The clip repeated as the reporter spoke.
    “A vacationer headed to Cancun captured this footage after recognizing Harper Ashton when she boarded the plane. He said she arrived in full make-up, but removed it during the flight. Ms. Ashton had left the ill-fated runway show of designer Amanda Ries. I believe we have a report on that show as well.”
    The grainy footage switched to the view of Warehouse Five. An investigative reporter stood about a hundred feet in front of the now abandoned warehouse. Fire had ravaged the building, leaving black stains on the outer edge of doorways and windows, like fake eyelashes that had clumped. The camera panned the exterior of the building while the reporter spoke.
    “Last night a fire at Warehouse Five threatened to take the lives of many fashion insiders. The city of Ribbon has been offering tax incentives to local businesses, and Amanda Ries, local designer, had taken them up on that. Her runway show had been widely publicized from here to New York City, drawing buyers of major department stores who were eager to see this new collection. Touted as “Godzilla on the Moon,” Ries’ show promised a departure from her early classic style. Only six looks walked the runway before an unexpected fire broke out, causing the warehouse to be evacuated. We have not been able to reach a representative from Amanda Ries’ studio for comment.”
    I felt sick. The bacon churned in my stomach and an acidic taste gurgled up into my throat. I filled a glass of water and chugged it, and then sat back down and clicked off the TV.
    Only six looks had come down the runway. The sixth was Harper’s kimono. There had been something off about that garment from the start. The poor fit, the assignation to Harper, and the refusal to alter it. The rest of the show had gone off as fashion shows do. Which made me think that someone had planned all along to use the kimono to start the fire.
    Was that why I’d been attacked? Because someone didn’t like the fact that I spoke up on behalf of Harper and asked for it to be altered? Because maybe someone had been planning