I carefully pick up the silver bullet shell, looking it over carefully for any fingerprints, as my partner, for all the cases I have done so far, Nathenial Simson, talks to one of only two witnesses.

The case? A break-in and murder. The victim, a twenty-three year old male, Michael Laidler, was shot once in the arm, possibly from trying to dodge a bullet, and thrice in the stomach. His wife had just came into the room just as the culprit escaped and was quick to call emergency services.

By the look of the blood left from Michael's body, when Nathenial and I entered the decently sized study, it happened about thirty or so minutes ago. Now it has been forty minutes since the shooting happened.

I look over at Nathenial, who was talking quietly to Mrs Laidler. She was leaning against Nathenial, shakily holding a mug of coffee as she stared at where her husband's body was before we moved it. I recognised Mrs Laidler to be the wife of Michael Laidler, the famous fashion designer. I knew him as I admired his style in clothing.

It was honestly easy to guess why he was killed, what with the Fashion Week Runway competition coming up soon...

Nathenial snapped me from my thoughts as he slowly approached me. "Kelly Robins, their maid, is a little shaken up, but she should be fine. Mrs Laidler isn't doing so well, so we're going to have an officer stay here while she invites some friends over for company and to help with her daughter, Becca. What were you able to find out?" Nathenial asks, his warm brown eyes meeting my own silvery-blue eyes.

I carefully put the bullet shell into an evidence bag before looking back at Nathenial. I sigh softly, shaking my head as I say "Not much. Please tell me Mrs Laidler or Kelly was able to remember anything about the culprit...?"

Nathenial takes the evidence bag from me, looking over the bullet as he answers "Kelly was knocked out from behind, so she saw nothing. Mrs Laidler however said, other than horrible fashion sense, her was muscular, about 5'8" in height and has a fox tattoo. Sound familiar?"

My eyes widen. "The Foxes?"

Nathenial nods as I sigh, feeling frustrated. The Foxes were the most aggressive gang in Boston. Well, really the only gang we haven't caught yet. They murdered, stole, vandalised and harmed our home city. Our police force, Boston Police, were halved when we found the gang's hideout before moving to a new location. They were a force most wouldn't reckon with.

"Didn't know they went after fashion designers now..." I mutter under my breath. Nathenial must of heard me as he looked at me and by the worry in his eyes, I could tell he was thinking about my other job.

"Hey, I took self-defence, remember? I'll be fine, so stop thinking negative," I smile, trying to help him relax. Nathenial simply nods in a silent reply.

Out of the corner of my eye however, I notice a piece of paper peeking out from underneath a filing cabinet. I reach past Nathenial, hearing a small stifled gasp for him as my hand brushes his thigh, before gently grasping the paper.

I pull it out, flicking the paper open with one finger before scanning it. Nathenial moves to read it over my shoulder, muttering softly "Isn't that a shipping order... From the docks?"

I nod silently, scanning it once again, the words "Foxes", "guns" and "knives" sticking out like a sore thumb. "One thing is for sure, Michael Laidler would not of ordered these... Definitely obvious it's from, or for The Foxes."

I look down at my watch before putting the shipping order into another evidence bag, which I than passed to Nathenial. I explain "Take these to the station and do any tests you can. I gotta go, fashion show in two hours."

Nathenial half-smiles, asking "How are you so organised between both jobs?"

"Because. I am just that awesome," I teased winking before leaving the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Move that bench over there! A little to the left... No! Too much! There, just there!" I called out to the two men moving the set pieces for the show. They placed the park bench down and I signal the "OK" sign to them.

As they walk off the runway, Andrew, my assistant and second-in-charge, walked over to me, beaming. "This looks great! Just what you were trying to go for, right?" He asked me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah... It's perfect," I answer happily, brushing a strand of my hair out of my face.

For our show, the scene would be an autumn park, as autumn would be coming up in a month. We would be showcasing casual, formal and lastly, night wear.

I look up at Andrew, who was nibbling on the corner of his bottom lip, before I speak up. "Okay, you're biting your lip. You only do that when you're nervous. What's wrong?"

Andrew looks at me, grinning awkwardly - which I honestly always found adorable about him - before replying "Well... You know the dress you made? Your favourite one for this show?"

I nod, smiling fondly at the mention of the dress. It was truly beautiful, starting with gold at the top before fading into pink, than into a royal purple at the end. It had the shoulders bare, with long flowing sleeves that ended at the wrists. A black throw-on shawl and brown Roman sandals were to be worn with it.

"Yes, is something wrong?... Did it rip?!" I exclaim, feeling worried. I had worked hard on that dress and to learn now-

"No, no, no! It's in perfect condition!" Andrew says quickly, earning a sigh of relief from me before he continues "Rather something is wrong with the model."

I looked at him confused before he explains "Zelda, the model of the dress, had to call in sick. Her boyfriend forgot she had an allergy to roses and in an attempt to be romantic, got her in hospital."

I swore softly, running a hand through my hair as I mutter "And it would be too late to call in any other models, wouldn't it?"

Andrew nods before chuckling a little as I swear once again. "What are we gonna do now? We don't have any other models here, I promised we wouldn't need more models than we already have and I-!"

"Hey, Amy, because I am so amazing, don't hit me like last time. I have an idea for who the model can be," Andrew says carefully, running a hand through his pale pink hair. Right now, the pink colour was reminding me of a delicate, pink rose...

'No, no getting distracted by colour,' I tell myself mentally, quickly nodding for Andrew to continue.

"Yes Andi? Who? Who?!" I ask, praying I didn't sound too desperate.

"You!" He replied, grinning as he took a step back from me.

I stare at him, taken back by his suggestion. After a minute silence, I finally figure out something to say...

"What?!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As I walk down the catwalk, occasionally stopping to throw a pose, I felt eyes staring at the outfit I designed. Normally, I would be behind the curtains, watching the show from behind or helping with makeup and hair. But tonight was different with Zelda, the original model of the dress, being sick, I had to step in, wearing the lovely sunset-inspired dress.

When I twirled, the fabric floated a little above my knees, making the audience "ooh" and "aah". My eyes met the familiar warm brown eyes of Nathenial, his cheeks a warm red as he looked shocked.

Now I think about it, it's a shock to see him in the crowd for me, like it's a shock for him to see me on the runway, looking so... How did Andrew describe me...? Stunning, I suppose. He hasn't ever seen one of my fashion shows before, having worked on a murder or well-planned theft, just when I was in my detective uniform in general.

I walk to the front of the catwalk, posing with a swing of my hips and my arms crossed my back, giving me an innocent look as the crowd applauds. A few whistles were heard along with the cheers.

I smile widely looking back to see Andrew grinning as me, some of his pink hair falling in front of his face. He gestures for me to curtsy, which I do, looking back at the crowd just as a gun is shot.