How to Frame a Fashionista

By Debra Sennefelder

Applying her Manhattan fashion sense to the sensibilities of a Long Island clientele, Kelly Quinn is setting new trends with second-hand name brand apparel—and finding killers with a deadly sense of style . . .
 
The fortunes of Kelly’s Lucky Cove Resale Boutique are sinking fast—literally, as the weathered roof of her grandmother’s old consignment shop springs a new leak with every rain. She hopes her latest client, overnight fitness and social media sensation Tawny Nicole, has enough valued and wanted items she can sell fast enough to keep her roof from crumbling down. 
 
When Kelly arrives at Tawny’s home to appraise her attire, she’s stunned to find Serena Dawson, “the Dragonista of Seventh Avenue,” there. The last time she saw her ex-boss was when Serena humiliatingly and publicly fired her from her New York City job. Now Tawny is married to Serena’s ex-husband and is caught in the crossfire of some unfinished divorce settlements.  
 
But when Kelly returns to Tawny’s the following day, she discovers her dead body—and Serena standing over it. Her former employer may be nasty and unrepentant, but she’s no killer—prompting Kelly to pick up the threads to try and find the real culprit . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyrical Press
• Release date: Nov 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781516108954

Debra Sennefelder

Debra Sennefelder is an author of cozy mysteries, including the Food Blogger Mystery series and the Resale Boutique Mystery series. When she’s not writing, she’s either baking or reading. She lives with her family and slightly spoiled Shih Tzu in Connecticut.

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www.kensingtonbooks.com

By Debra Sennefelder

Food Blogger Mysteries

THE UNINVITED CORPSE

THE HIDDEN CORPSE

THREE WIDOWS AND A CORPSE

THE CORPSE WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

Resale Boutique Mysteries

MURDER WEARS A LITTLE BLACK DRESS

SILENCED IN SEQUINS

WHAT NOT TO WEAR TO A GRAVEYARD

HOW TO FRAME A FASHIONISTA

How to Frame a Fashionista

Debra Sennefelder

LYRICAL UNDERGROUND

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

Contents

By Debra Sennefelder

How to Frame a Fashionista

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Copyright

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.

119 West 40th Street

New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2020 by Debra Sennefelder

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: [phone].

Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.

First Electronic Edition: December 2020

ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0895-4 (ebook)

ISBN-10: 1-5161-0895-7 (ebook)

First Print Edition: December 2020

ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0898-5

ISBN-10: 1-5161-0898-1

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

For my niece, Sarah Kuhlmann.

Chapter 1

Holy Manolos!

Kelly Quinn’s eyes widened as she stared at her watch. She’d fallen back to sleep. For a whole hour.

No, no, no, no. She tossed off the covers and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Not this morning. She stood, ignoring her Ugg slippers and her cashmere robe, both indulgences bought while she’d had a discount at the high-end department store where she once worked.

She jogged on bare feet across the carpet into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, turned on the shower, and applied a mud mask to her face in record time before stepping into the teeny stall to let the water spray down on her.

Lathered up and rinsed off, she stepped out of the shower. A quick blow dry and the minimalist amount of makeup was applied to make her look refreshed and awake.

Time-crunched, she didn’t have the leisure of sorting through her closet to find the perfect outfit of the day or hashtag OTTD when she posted on Instagram. With her late start, there’d be no selfie, filter selection, or posting that morning. Hashtag Notimesleepyhead. No, what she needed was something to wear ASAP. She reached in for the easiest, yet fashionable, garment from her closet. Darn. She wanted to look extra chic and pulled together when she met with Tawny Fallow.

Then why did I fall back to sleep?

Kelly let out a sigh. Another late night of uploading garments she sold on a resale website and finishing up an article for BudgetChic.com. She recently landed her own weekly column on the website all about affordable fashion. These days without her beloved employee discount and access to in-the-know sample sales, she was the target reader for Budget Chic. A yawn escaped her glossed lips as she pulled out a cap-sleeved, black, faux-wrap maxi dress. The lightweight poly-blend dress was a good choice for working a full day in the boutique and meeting her newest consignment customer.

After she slipped the dress over her head, she stepped into a pair of snakeskin booties with a cone heel, swept her hair up into a messy bun, and added a pair of silver hoops.

After a final head-to-toe look over in the full-length mirror, she dashed out of the bedroom, and Howard, her orange cat, greeted her.

His loud meow and cool stare made it crystal clear that no matter how late she was running, he would be fed breakfast. When she claimed her inheritance of the boutique, she believed the business end of things would be the most challenging.

She was wrong.

The cat was the most challenging part of her new life. He had multiple personalities—lovable, playful, demanding, and I’ll kill you in your sleep—and she never knew which one she would encounter.

She glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes until the Open sign needed to be flipped over and the front door of the boutique unlocked. Luckily her commute was only one flight of stairs.

Last fall, after her beloved granny passed away, she took over the Lucky Cove Resale Boutique. Since then, she worked 24/7 to turn the business around. At this point, it was now eking out a profit. If she hadn’t been a hawk with her spreadsheets, she might have missed it. Yeah, it was that small. Regardless, it was better than the red the boutique was in previously.

She pressed her lips together. You don’t think you could skip a meal just one time? How about brunch?

Meeooow.

Okay, fine, you win. Breakfast, it is. She walked past Howard, and he followed on her heels to the kitchen.

After Christmas, with the help of her friends, she gave the small yet efficient space a budget-friendly makeover. Now all she needed was to learn to cook.

Tucked in the corner on the counter sat a pressure cooker that was gifted to her by her friend, Ariel Barnes. She made a few meals in it and hadn’t blown the place up—unlike her cookie baking attempt in December that left the apartment filled with smoke. It seemed she was making progress.

Would you like tuna and shrimp this morning? She pulled out a small can from a cupboard, and Howard rubbed against her leg. I’ll take that as a yes.

As she emptied the minced food into Howard’s bowl, her frazzled mood, the result of her late start, faded away and was replaced by excitement.

Every time she landed a new consignment client, she was elated. During their conversation, Tawny said she had a sizable amount of clothing to consign and a tight schedule, so bringing all of the items to the boutique was impossible. Kelly assured her it was not a problem to drive over to the house to look through the clothing.

Kelly had done her first in-home estimate when an over-scheduled, exhausted housewife made the request. Not wanting to lose sales or repeat business, Kelly jumped at the chance to land some impressive designer labels, only to find that the woman had done a bait-and-switch. Kelly fell for the drop of designer names, only to find a rack full of shopping channel clothing.

Luckily, a few items from higher-end shops helped round out the merchandise. Kelly left with a bunch of clothing and information about the death of a local resident.

Kelly not only made a huge career change when she moved back to her hometown of Lucky Cove, but she also found herself doing a little amateur sleuthing on the side.

Though it was a new year, and so far she’d stayed out of any murder investigations. See, sometimes New Year’s resolutions work.

She glanced at her watch again. Time to hustle. She set the filled bowl on the floor for Howard and filled his water bowl.

See you later, little guy. She walked out of the kitchen toward the door. Before she reached for the knob, she snatched her Louis Vuitton six-key holder from the tray on the console table. Outside on the small landing, her brightening mood vanished. Poof. Just like that.

A puddle of water could do that to a gal.

She gazed upward and spotted a big wet circle on the ceiling. Her mouth gaped as she watched water drip from above.

Apparently the roof patch she’d done in October failed.

No, no, no, no. Not today.

Drip.

Kelly balled her hands into fists and muttered a few words her granny would have disapproved of.

Drip.

She spun around, opened her apartment door, and hurried through the apartment to the kitchen to get a bucket.

Howard gave her a quick look and then went back to feasting on his breakfast. At least one of them was having an excellent start to their day. She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out a bucket. She dashed back to the hallway and positioned the bucket to catch the water and then took a deep breath.

The house was old, so a leak here or there didn’t seem unreasonable. It would stop leaking at some point. Right?

With the bucket in place, Kelly descended the stairs, glancing back one too many times causing a misstep that had her almost tumbling down the stairs. She’d love a do-over for her morning—one that didn’t include a leak.

Downstairs in the boutique’s staffroom, aka the office, storage area, and breakroom, Kelly made a pot of coffee. It brewed while she opened the cash register and did a quick walk-thru of the boutique. Back in the staffroom and sipping her first cup of liquid gold, she checked her phone’s calendar to confirm the appointment time with Tawny.

Next, she made sure the contact info for her roofer was still on the phone. You know, just in case the leak upstairs became something more significant.

The back door opened, and the lyrical sound of birds chirping filtered in as Breena Collins entered. The music was a sure sign spring was on its way.

Breena had a bounce in her step, and excitement sparkled in her amber eyes. Someone was in a good mood.

Kelly slipped her phone into her purse. Tawny’s house was a short drive away, so it wouldn’t take long to get there. Maybe she had time for a second cup of coffee.

Good morning. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Even if I’m stuck here while you get to meet Tawny. I’m so jealous. I’ve been dying to meet her. You’d think, in a town the size of Lucky Cove, we’d have run into each other at some point. Guess we don’t move in the same social circles. Breena shrugged out of her jacket and set her lunch tote in the refrigerator.

Kelly pressed her lips together. Breena was a huge fan of Tawny. While it would have been nice to take her sales associate with her to the appointment, it was always important to present a professional image. The last thing she needed was for Breena to go all fangirl over the new client.

Until Kelly received the call for consignment, she hadn’t heard of Tawny or her online fitness business. She’d been too busy, and now with a regular fashion column, she doubted there would be much free downtime in her near future. Last night over dinner with her best friend, Liv Moretti, she reviewed her plan for bringing in extra money. By the time they got to the brownies Liv baked, Kelly was sure she’d have no social life for the next ten years. That might have been the reason she had seconds of the brownies. Okay, she had three of them, and she was feeling the guilt and bloating. Another reason wearing the maxi dress was the perfect choice.

I don’t think you not running into her has anything to do with social circles. Between your two jobs, college courses, and raising Tori, you stay busy. And probably Tawny’s business keeps her busy too. It looked like Kelly wasn’t alone in the too-much-to-do phase of life. At least she didn’t have a child to take care of. Only a cat. She shrugged into her black wool coat. Her second cup of coffee would wait until she got got back.

Breena grabbed her Break A Leg mug off the drainboard. After high school, she headed straight to NYC to pursue an acting career. Things hadn’t worked out as she expected, and she returned to Lucky Cove. Settled back into her parents’ home, she enrolled in college and found more stable work. Kelly thought back to her high school days and tried to recall what Breena’s parents thought of their daughter’s big dream to be an actress. She couldn’t. As for most of her life, her thoughts were mostly about herself. She frowned. That wasn’t a character trait she was proud of.

I guess you’re right.

So, what exactly is her business?

Breena’s frown quickly shifted into a smile. It’s a workout and diet program called Personalized Body Fit or PBF for short. It’s all over social media. She has her own video channel where she uploads short workouts that complement the program.

How did you find PBF? Kelly moved from the coat rack and over to the desk. There she gathered her key ring holder and slipped it into her purse along with her phone and lipstick.

I found her video channel. Remember, in January, when I was home because Tori was sick?

You were looking for a workout for Tori?

Breena laughed as she added cream to her coffee and then walked to the table where the boutique’s staff of three ate meals and had meetings. She dropped onto a chair. No, silly. I was looking for kids’ videos, and somehow I came across Tawny Nicole.

Tawny Nicole?

Breena nodded. That’s what she goes by online. Tawny Nicole Fitness. TNF.

Kelly shook her head. PBF. TNF. Too many acronyms.

Anyway, I started with her free videos, and I followed her everywhere online, Breena said.

Kelly understood that was how social media worked, but it sounded too much like stalking to her. Though, what she wouldn’t give to have such committed stalkers on the boutique’s social media platforms.

Breena continued. And then I found out about PBF, and I had to try. I don’t have time or money to go to a gym.

Kelly cringed at the comment. She wanted to pay Breena more, but there wasn’t any extra money in the budget for pay raises for her or her two employees. Another reason she was staying up late in the evening to work on freelance assignments and marketing for the boutique.

Why? You look great. Kelly wished she had Breena’s hour-glass figure. Her long-time friend always seemed to have a healthy self-image. What changed?

Redness tinged Breena’s cheeks, and she tucked a lock of auburn curls behind her ear. Thanks to Tawny. Like you said, I’m way busy, and I slacked on exercise. I’ve also been making poor food choices. Since starting PBF, I’ve lost ten pounds. It’s all customized for your body. She’s a genius.

Genius? Kelly considered trying PBF. She glanced at her mid-section. Not that bad, but maybe a little too soft. Her infrequent morning runs weren’t cutting it like they used to. A flash of panic set through her. Everyone was right. By the time she hit thirty, she’d have the makings of middle age spread. Whoa! She had a few years to go, so she had time for a course correction. Besides, thirty wasn’t anywhere near middle age.

You should try it.

Kelly gave Breena a questioning look.

Oh, no, I didn’t mean it that way. You’re in good shape. PBF is designed to meet your goals. Mine is to lose about twenty pounds. Yours would be to build more muscle so you can keep your lean frame easier. Breena jumped up and dashed over to Kelly, pulling her phone from her jean’s back pocket.

Nice save. But the fact Kelly’s employee used the word good instead of great to describe her shape gave Kelly a reason to consider the program seriously.

Look, here’s Tawny’s Instagram account. Breena swiped through Tawny’s feed.

Kelly’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she saw how many followers Tawny had. It was official. Her new client was a social media star.

She was also uber-fit.

Oh, my goodness. Kelly took the phone and studied the photographs of Tawny. Fit would be an understatement. She bared her midriff in every other photo. Taut, sculpted, and flat. Everything a gal wanted in a mid-section. Sprinkled in between the bare midriff pics were close-ups of Tawny’s makeup-free face. She looked healthy and approachable. Someone Kelly would feel comfortable working with. There were some motivational quotes. Stop wishing. Start doing. Kelly scrolled past them and came to video clips.

Kelly tapped on a video and watched Tawny do a burpee. She agreed that it was a challenging exercise for working several parts of the body at once, but burpees were also evil. She hated them. Watching Tawny do them so easily, and the fact that she was at least ten years older than Kelly, irritated her.

She’s amazing, right? Breena asked.

She certainly is. Kelly handed the phone back to Breena.

It would be so much fun if we were doing PBF together!

I don’t think burpees are fun. Look, I have to leave now and I won’t be long. After my appointment with Tawny, we can go over the marketing plan for summer. Even though they were only weeks from the start of spring, retail was always at least a season ahead.

Breena beamed with excitement. Great! I saw the printout for the items we sold online. I’ll pack them up now and dash out to the post office after our meeting. Okay?

Sounds good. Kelly picked up her purse from the desk. She’d broken out her no-label, black, faux crocodile shoulder bag for today’s appointment. It was simple yet elegant, and even though it didn’t have a designer label, it was pricey because of its quality. A definite splurge, but a smart investment.

Oh, I want to hear everything about your meeting with Tawny. All the details. Kelly nodded, then turned and walked to the back door. She sucked in her three-brownie-bloated stomach and squared her shoulders. Surely that was enough to make her look ten pounds thinner.

Kelly parked her Jeep in the driveway of the Fallow house, a stately two-floor Colonial with an intricately patterned walkway that led to the elegant front door. The home was located on a quiet street not too far from Main Street. It would have been a pleasant walk if she had been sure she’d be leaving without merchandise.

When she spoke with Tawny, she was instructed to come to the cottage situated behind the main house. Kelly grabbed her purse and stepped out of the Jeep. Gently curved garden beds flowed along the property and around the house. She imagined, in a few weeks, bursts of color would bloom, nudging out all the drabness leftover from a harsh winter. Not a gardener by any stretch of the imagination, Kelly could only guess at how those garden beds would transform.

She walked around the front of her Jeep and took notice of the sleek silver Mercedes parked next to her vehicle. She glimpsed into the passenger window as she walked past the car. Not too shabby. And neither was the Louis Vuitton duffel bag on the passenger seat. Her heartbeat did a pitter-patter at the sight. She barely scraped together enough money to buy her key holder. The duffel would have to wait for many more years, possibly decades.

Kelly walked away from the luxury car and the duffel bag before she started drooling. She followed the stone path that veered off the main walkway.

The sun was out in full glory, melting the fallen snow, just what her roof didn’t need. She pushed aside those thoughts. They were counterproductive to what she needed to do—land a new client obsessed with clothes. They always made the best consigners.

* * * *

Continuing along the path, she sidestepped some puddles. The cottage came into view. It had petite windows framed with shutters and window boxes that must overflow with pretty flowers in the warmer months. As she got closer, she heard raised voices coming through the open front door.

One voice sounded oddly familiar to her.

OMG. Was it her?

Nah. Not possible.

There was no way in heck the Dragonista of Seventh Avenue would be in Lucky Cove.

A few footsteps closer, and Kelly couldn’t shake the fact that the voice belonged to her former boss.

This is none of your business! That voice sounded like the one she heard on the phone when she talked to Tawny.

It’s between Jason and me. That was definitely her voice.

All at once, Kelly’s chest tightened, her vision blurred, and she became lightheaded. It was a familiar feeling that she hadn’t experienced since her last day at Bishop’s Department store.

She froze as her eyes focused on the figure clad in a faux leopard coat blocking the doorway of the cottage. Same height, same frame.

Of course, it’s my business. He’s my husband! Tawny said.

Only because he was desperate and vulnerable when you paraded into his life in your knockoff Lululemon.

Yep. There was no doubt in Kelly’s mind now. But what was she doing in Lucky Cove?

How dare you! Get off my property.

You’re forgetting who I am.

Oh, boy. Kelly, still frozen in place, had to figure out what to do. Interrupt? From her