Page 104 of Triggered By Love
Avery’s hands shook as she put her laptop on her upper thighs. “Are you saying he was one of my models?”
“He was. Did Ivanna design a bearded dragon collar for him?”
“We didn’t incorporate any of the animal effects in last year’s show. Professor Leach told me not to. He said it was too theatrical.”
“Be prepared. This isn’t an easy picture to look at,” Jason said, drawing out his phone. “The body was found weeks later and decomposed. We couldn’t ID it because the face was missing. The only things of note were the metallic scales and thorns around the corpse’s neck.”
He put his thumb over the face that had been eaten by marine life.
“The reptile collar is one of my designs,” Avery said. “I never showed it to anyone.”
“Apparently, the collar is being sold online. I contacted the seller, but there’s no response yet.” Jason had tried to place an order, but the collar was out of stock. The seller was supposed to notify him when one was available. “Do you know who AlleyCat is? That’s the seller’s screen name on Shopahol.”
Avery looked like she drew a blank. “Ivanna runs my online sales. I’ll have to ask her. But I’m not AlleyCat. My store’s name is TheBurn. That was Brando’s idea.”
He refrained from commenting on the name. It wasn’t a good idea to criticize a beloved ex’s idea.
“How is Ivanna doing?” he asked. “Any update?”
“Her vitals are stable, but she hasn’t woken up,” Avery said. “They want to keep her brain quiet to give her a chance to recover.”
“I’m sorry. Hopefully she won’t suffer any long-term effects. We need to find who did this to her.”
“I know, that’s why I’m going over everyone she might have had contact with, including the models. You were saying Saul might know some of them?”
“I suspect Saul could have rubbed shoulders with them, especially since his brother was a model.” Jason scratched an itch on his unshaven face. “He lives where the agencies stack up the models. An apartment complex in Brooklyn. So did Ernesto Gomez, the shooter. He might have gotten acquainted with the fashion world through them.”
A visible shudder undulated down Avery’s body at the mention of Brando’s killer. “I thought it was gang related.”
“We were looking too hard on the gang angle,” Jason said. “What if this has to do with the dead models? Did they all work for Alida’s agency?”
“Starbright is one of Alida’s subsidiaries,” Avery said. “I get my models through her at a discount since I’m her client.”
“So, she’s a one-stop shop.”
“She deals with celebrity publicity and image management.” Avery brought up Alida’s website, Adams on Fifth. “She has a modeling agency, but she also represents actors and others in the entertainment industry.”
“She takes a cut in their fees?”
“More than that.” Avery clicked to the modeling agency’s page. “Starbright scouts and sources models from all over the world. They provide the promising ones with wardrobes, travel, lodging, and book gigs for them.”
“Must treat them well. How do they afford all of those amenities?” Secretly, he wondered if they trafficked them from less-developed countries. He tucked that away to look into later.
“Trust me,” Avery continued. “They make money from us designers and anyone else hiring models. The housing is substandard. Bunk beds in places like the Brooklyn stash house. They control their food, making them diet. Provide a gym for exercising and take a big cut for all expenses. I never did make a dime from modeling.”
“Really? I heard these supermodels make—”
“Not these days.” Avery cut him off. “You’re talking back before InstaDirt and FacePlant where everyone who wants to be a model has an account. Nowadays, makeup artists and Photoshoppers can make anyone with good bone structure into a star in a blink of an eye, and just like a falling star, it’s only as good as the last flash. Back then, supermodels became celebrities because the supply was controlled by the elite agencies. These days, agents cull through the chaff and control who gets placed and how big a check they get.”
“Then why do you do it, if not to make money?”
Avery hugged herself and let her gaze travel to her window. The view of Central Park was magnificent, and for the first time, Jason asked himself how she could afford it.
She sighed and her eyes glazed over. Shrugging it off, she said, “I suppose you won’t believe me if I say it’s a hobby.”
“You work too hard for it to be a hobby. I’m no expert, but I think you’re very talented.”
Her face flushed and she smiled wryly. “You’re too kind. The truth is, I don’t have any other talents. All my life, people told me I should be a model. It started when I was born and my mother entered me in a baby clothes modeling search.”
