She shook his hand. “Valerie Hartman. A pleasure, Ethan.” Her smile brightened and he felt the kick. “Val works just fine for both my names.”
She must have noticed his gaze drifting down to the wet shirt clinging to her breasts because soft color washed into her cheeks. When she modestly crossed her arms to cover herself, he remembered how he’d thought her name sounded like a stripper’s and felt stupid all over again.
“You . . . umm . . . came here to see me,” she reminded him. “What’s going on?”
The moment of levity was over. He was there to keep her safe. “I guess you haven’t gotten a call from Matthew Carlyle or anyone from La Belle.”
“My cell’s in my purse. Half the time I don’t hear it ring.”
“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news, Val. Earlier this morning, Delilah Larsen was found dead in her apartment. She was murdered.”
“What?”
“She was killed sometime last night.”
Val swayed, and Ethan gently caught her against him. “Easy. Maybe you’d better sit down.”
“There’s a sofa in the office,” Samantha said, leading them in that direction.
Val didn’t argue when he guided her inside and settled her on the couch. Her face looked so pale, he urged her head down between her knees. “Give yourself a minute. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m okay. I don’t faint. I’m studying to be a doctor.” But she waited a few seconds before she lifted her head.
“I’ll get you some water.” Samantha hurried away and returned a few moments later with a cup.
Ethan handed the cup to Val just as the buzzer above the front door sounded, announcing a customer’s arrival.
“Hold on a minute,” he said. Turning away, he moved quietly off toward the waiting room, pausing out of sight beside the door. A gray-haired woman, clearly no threat, walked in with a tall, long-haired Afghan dog.
Ethan returned to the office. “Go ahead, Sam. Take care of your client.”
Samantha nodded, took off for the waiting room. Val leaned back against the sofa, her face still pale, but some of the color had returned to her cheeks.
She looked up at him. “Delilah and I weren’t really friends, but we worked together. She didn’t deserve to be murdered. How did it happen?”
“She was strangled.”
She swallowed. Her eyes widened as the possibility sank in. “Oh my God, it wasn’t the guy who wrote those notes?”
“We don’t know yet. I’m on my way to her place now. I’ll know more once I take a look at the crime scene.”
“What about the other girls? Are they okay? Oh, God, what about Megan? Meg O’Brien? She got one of those notes.”
“Carlyle’s making sure all the models are covered. He knew I was coming to get you. You need to call him, tell him you’re okay.”
“Let me get my phone.” She hurriedly retrieved it and came back. “Looks like Matt’s been calling.”
“Call him back. Tell him you’re with me. Tell him I’ll be bringing you to the theater for the show.”
“Okay.” She was still shaken up, he could see, trying to process the information. She phoned Carlyle, told him she was safe.
“Ethan Brodie is with me now.”
Carlyle said something on the other end of the phone.
“Yes, of course. I didn’t think you’d cancel. I’ll be there on time.” Val hung up and released a shaky breath.
Ethan pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your cell number?”
