"Yes ma'am," Frank answered.
"Then why are you my assistant now? Not that I mind," she hastily added.
"Mr. Demar hired me so I could learn the ropes," Frank answered. "And that means I have to work in each department."
"Uh-huh," Shelia said, her blue eyes still looking at Frank suspiciously. "And why would he do that? He hires professionals not newbies."
"He and my father are old friends," Frank fibbed.
"Now that I can understand," Shelia said. "Friends and family," she continued. "That is one sure way to get a break in the business."
"You started this way too?" Frank inquired.
"No. I got where I am on my own," Shelia declared proudly. "But take Beverly."
"Crenshaw?" Frank asked, his brown eyes alight with interest.
"No, Beverly Sills. Of course Beverly Crenshaw," she said, assuming Frank was a complete idiot. "She got her start working for her sister."
"What does her sister do?" Frank inquired.
"Her sister designs clothes for department stores," Shelia informed him. "Raven Gilbert."
"That's Beverly's sister?" Frank asked in surprise. "But why would Mr. Demar hire her if she were related to one of his competitors?"
"Probably doesn't know," Shelia answered, shrugging her shoulders. "Anyway, we had better get set up. They will be back from their break and ready for more primping soon."
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Joe arrived on the set just as the others were returning from their break. "Where have you been?" demanded Kenny coming up behind Joe.
Joe spun around and saw Kenny and Artie coming toward him. "What happened to you?" Kenny demanded, rushing over and grabbing Joe's face in his hands.
"I kind of got into a fight last night," Joe admitted. "There's no way I can continue modeling for this shoot but Mr. Demar was very nice about it," he quickly continued. "He suggested since my main interest is photography anyway, I can be Artie's assistant since his other one has been moved to another department."
"But the layout is for three models," Artie said. "Why would you get into a fight?"
Joe shrugged. "I wasn't thinking. Modeling was never my first choice anyway."
"Very well," Artie said. "Come along and we'll get set up."
"I'm sorry," Joe apologized to Kenny. "I guess I won't be able to model for you after all."
"Nonsense," Kenny told him, smiling. "My shoot can wait until your face heals. Just no more fighting."
"Yes Sir," Joe agreed, smiling.
"Better get over there. Artie's a real taskmaster," Kenny told him before leaving Joe and heading over to where Danny and Paul sat looking at Joe curiously.
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Frank took the first opportunity he could and made his way to Demar's office. "Did you know Beverly Crenshaw is Raven Gilbert's sister?" he asked.
"I did," Demar replied. "Beverly told me her sister had given her work to start her out but now that she had a resume, she wanted to spread her wings a bit."
"And you don't think it strange that all this sabotage is happening with her around?" Frank queried.
"No," Demar answered. "As a matter of fact, when the sabotage first started, Beverly came to me and told me that she had not done it but she would understand if I wanted to sever her contract. She didn't want to take the chance that anyone might later believe she had done anything while working for me because gossip of that sort could destroy a career."
Frank scowled. She had seemed like the perfect suspect. "Don't take it so hard," Demar said, coming over to Frank and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You and your brother have done an excellent job so far. Don't give up, please? I really need you to find who has been creating all this damage. Our schedule is already three days behind and I'm losing money and time. Plus, I was informed one of our missing models turned up dead yesterday."
Frank nodded. "Jeff Benatar," Frank acknowledged. "But we're starting to think the missing models have nothing to do with sabotage."
"Oh?" Demar asked, lifting his eyebrows. "How did you arrive at this theory?"
Frank explained about the condition of the deceased model. "Serial killers just don't go in for sabotage," he said, shaking his head. "It takes a totally different mind frame."
"Do you have any idea who the killer might be?" Demar inquired.
"Not yet," Frank confessed. "But we're working on it."
"Perhaps we should warn Paul and Danny," Demar suggested. "They shouldn't be kept in the dark if there is a madman running loose."
"True," agreed Frank. "When we thought the saboteur took the two boys because of something they might have seen or known it was different. Now, they could be in trouble just because of what they do or what they look like."
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Joe was thinking the same thing. He helped Artie with the lights and grabbed the lenses requested and put them in the camera while Artie gave instructions to the two remaining models.
"Where is the lens I asked for?" Artie demanded, turning to glare at Joe.
"In the camera," Joe replied, his voice deceptively pleasant. "I thought it would save time if I went ahead and got it ready for you."
Artie scowled then looked through the camera and then back at Joe. "You know what you're doing," he said. Joe assumed this was as close to a compliment as he was ever going to get. He backed out of the way as Artie began snapping pictures.
When Artie had finished, he handed the film to Joe and ordered him to take it to Beverly. Joe started to leave but stopped to talk to Paul and Danny who were on their way to make-up.
"Can I talk to you two for a minute?" Joe asked.
"About what?" Paul said in a gruff voice, glaring at Joe.
"Hey, chill," Joe said, holding up a hand. "Why are you made at me?"
"Why?" Paul repeated, glaring. "This layout isn't going to work right with only the two of us," he said. "Just because you have other interests doesn't mean we do. Don't you know a model is only as good as his last job?"
"But Danny was out of work for several months before getting this one," Joe said, realizing too late that he wasn't supposed to have known anything about Danny's past.
"Keeping tabs on me?" growled Danny, taking a step closer to Joe.
"Easy," Joe said. "Fighting is what got me into trouble. You want to get into trouble too?"
"Are you threatening me?" Danny demanded.
"I'm trying to warn you," Joe began.
"That's it," snarled Danny, launching himself at Joe.