Some Like It Haute: A Humorous Fashion Mystery (Style & Error Book 4) by Diane Vallere Page B

this rendezvous was about more than searching for overlooked clues.
    “You said Clive was here today?” Dante asked. I nodded. “Was he paying special attention to anything?”
    “Hard to say. The building was locked, but he was inside. When he came out, he took pictures of the back door and windows. We’re not going to be able to see anything he was looking at.”
    He turned toward the building and guided me along with him. Together we stumbled over the loose gravel, getting farther and farther from the car. Dante pulled a leather glove out of the inside pocket of his motorcycle jacket, let go of my hand, and pulled it on. He reached for the doorknob and jiggled it. Locked. He pulled on another glove and leaned close to the window, framing the light away from his eyes so he could see inside.
    I stood on my tiptoes behind him and peeked over his shoulder. The only thing visible was a faint stationary light coming from somewhere to the left.
    Dante looked at me. “See anything?”
    “How am I supposed to see anything? It’s dark out and you’re in my way. That’s why I came here when there was daylight.”
    He unzipped his jacket and lifted a camera that hung around his neck.
    “There was a guy in high school who wore a camera around his neck. I think it was a Warhol thing. Were you like that? The guy at the parties who caught all of the embarrassing stuff on film? Or were you the Sex, Lies, and Videotape guy who…” I felt my face flush. “Never mind.”
    “When I went to a party, I wasn’t all that concerned with taking pictures.”
    “So what’s with the camera tonight?”
    “I’m on the job, see?” he said out of the corner of his mouth. He fiddled with the dial around the lens and aimed the camera at me. The shutter clicked a few times but there was no flash.
    “Hey!” I said. “Stop that.”
    He faced the building and the shutter clicked a few more times.
    “Don’t you want to turn on the flash or something?”
    “Don’t need to. I’m using infrared film.”
    “And this is good for us, why?”
    “This film captures a picture of the infrared spectrum, not what you see with your eyes. I can’t develop it until I’m in a darkroom, but there’s a chance we’ll catch something nobody else will see either. Every day that goes by is a chance for the scene to get disrupted. Critters, wind, weather. If there’s a clue here to whatever happened, we have to find it sooner rather than later. We’re already working against a ticking clock.”
    “So this film is going to help you figure out if Clive saw something before Detective Loncar asked him to leave.”
    “Yes.”
    “Have you been planning this all night?”
    “I admit, your invitation took me by surprise, but after that, yes.”
    I didn’t know if it was the solitude of the parking lot, the forethought of Dante’s infrared camera plan, or the lingering romance of having shared a pizza, but I stepped closer to him. “Do you have anything else planned for tonight?” I asked quietly.
    He stared at me for a second before he leaned down and kissed me. What I’d gotten earlier that day had been little more than a preview. Tonight, I was treated to the main event.
    My arms went up, around the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. My lips parted and I felt his teeth gently bite at my lower lip. I tipped my head back and he kissed down the side of my neck, and then back up to my ear lobe. If I hadn’t been holding on to him, my legs would have given way underneath me.
    He unbuttoned my coat and slipped his arms around me. I flinched when he touched a bruise. He pulled his arms away.
    “Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low, husky voice.
    “The jerk who jumped me hurt me.”
    Dante held my hand and lowered himself to the gravel. He lifted the hem of my oversized red sweater with his gloved fingers and kissed the bruised flesh to the left and right of my navel. I closed my eyes. We were in the middle of a public parking lot, but it felt