The Fashion Police

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Authors: Sibel Hodge
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this?’
    I glanced over at what she held in her hand. ‘It’s a paperweight, and that is exactly the reason you can’t help me look. Just out of interest, what were you studying in the States?’
    ‘Neurosurgery.’
    ‘You’re kidding.’ Whoa, scary!
    She did a snorty little giggle that sounded like a hyena with a blocked nose. ‘Yes, of course I’m kidding.’
    I breathed a mental sigh of relief for all the poor brains in the world. ‘Shh!’ I pressed my forefinger against my lips.
    ‘Sorry. I was studying fashion, of course,’ she whispered.
    I screwed up my eyes and frowned at the computer screen. ‘Damn, all his files have been wiped. There’s nothing on here.’ I turned it off and rummaged around in his desk. The only thing I could find was a file tucked right at the back that contained some papers that looked a lot like financial spreadsheets. I stuffed it in my rucksack and moved on to Heather’s desk.
    Her laptop was nowhere to be seen.  I went through the desk from top to bottom, and the only thing I found that was of any interest was a piece of paper taped to the bottom of her top drawer. It had the words CB £5 Million scribbled on it. ‘Does this mean anything to you?’ I showed it to Tia.
    ‘No.’
    I pocketed the note, and we checked out the other offices, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, so we called it a day.
    ‘You gave me your number, Tia. I’ll let you know if I find anything. Promise me you won’t follow me any more,’ I said as we got in our vehicles.
    ‘OK.’ She gave me an unconvincing smile, and I just knew I’d be seeing more of her before I was ready to.

7
     
    I put my foot down on the way home, dying for food. I was so hungry that I started fantasizing about garlic bread with cheese, roasted  chicken, jacket potatoes smothered in butter, boiled broccoli and cabbage – ew ! Where did the broccoli and cabbage come from? I stopped thinking about food when I reached that point and started thinking about the note I’d found.
    What could the letters CB mean? Someone’s initials? Possibly, but that would only narrow it down to a gazillion people of the population. A password for something? Too short. The name of a boat? Unlikely. A company? Maybe.  I figured I would come up with something once I got some food in me. I always thought better on a full stomach.
    As soon as I flung open my apartment door, my appetite vanished.
    The living room that Romeo had only just tidied was a complete wreck. Magazines were piled in a messy heap on the floor, the cushions had been ripped from their covers and scattered around the living room, and the contents of my toolbox had been emptied onto the dining table. Added to that, my yucca was now yellow and dead-looking. I didn’t know if it had died of fright, or because I’d still forgotten to water it.
    My guts churned around on a spin cycle as I marched into my bedroom. My shoes looked like they’d been flung around the room by a desperate bargain hunter at a jumble sale. The dresser drawers hung open, all the contents chucked onto the bed. I seriously hoped whoever had broken in hadn’t been rifling through my knicker drawer, as well. Oh, no. God, please not the kicker drawer. I nearly passed out with embarrassment as I had visions of sweaty, wart-covered thugs pawing through my lacy thongs and cutie knickers with their chubby little fingers – sniffing them, even. I felt light-headed and weak at the very thought.
    I sank down onto the bed, not knowing whether to scream or burst into tears. I was heading toward the tears when I suddenly remembered Marmalade.
    I jumped to my feet. Where was he? Had he been cat-napped? I’d almost given up hope when I discovered him snuggled up in the bathroom under a pile of towels, which had been dumped on the floor. I gave Marmalade a big cuddle and then succumbed to the tears.
    ‘Who was it?’ I asked Marmalade, burrowing my chin into his fur.
    Marmalade purred, but didn’t give me

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