Danger in High Heels (13 page)

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I
am
a fashion designer."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you actually designed a shoe?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but realized I had no good answer for that. Mostly because I couldn't remember.

"Trust me, I will get to the truth," Allie assured me. "And the best way you can help is to get me that interview with Ricky." She capped her lipstick and made another kissy-face in the mirror at herself. "Enjoy your meal," she called as she skipped out of the bathroom.

*  *  *

Instead of enjoying my meal, I spent the rest of it deep in thought, wondering what the argument between the sisters had been about, whether it had anything to do with one of them turning up dead, and where our mystery man with the diamond earring fit into all of it. And then if maybe everyone was right and I should just stay home with the twins and leave the investigating to the investigators. I mean, Allie
had
found out a lot more about Irina than I had. And Ramirez
did
have more resources than I did. And Ricky
did
have the best lawyer money could buy. Did he really even need me?

I was so distracted by those thoughts that I even accidentally ordered fried ice cream for dessert. (Yes it was a total accident, not my willpower crapping out on me. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.) Unfortunately, by the time we got home and saw Dana off, I was no closer to coming to any conclusions about anything.

"So how was our favorite tabloid reporter tonight?" Ramirez asked, reaching for a bottle of wine from the rack by the fridge.

"Hmm?" I asked, shaking myself out of my thoughts.

"Allie. You two did have a girl's moment in the restroom, right?"

"Uh…" I paused, wondering just how much of our "girl's moment" he might have guessed at. "Sort of?" I said, ending the statement in a distinct question mark.

Ramirez's eyes softened. "Look, I understand now why you wanted to go to that restaurant and talk to Allie."

I froze, wineglass halfway to my lips. "You do?"

"Sure. Dana's your friend. I'd be pissed if someone printed a pic of a friend looking like hell, too."

"Wait – you read the
Informer
?"

Ramirez grinned. "Someone left the screen open this afternoon."

"Right." I took a sip. Mostly to cover my relief that Ramirez thought my reason for confronting Allie was purely press related and not having to do with any investigating that I was
not
doing.

"Anyway," he said. "I hope you set her straight."

I nodded noncommittally, taking another covering sip. "Sorry I used date night as a cover to see her," I said, honestly meaning it.

Ramirez grinned, his eyes going dark and devilish. "Tell you what. I can think of one way you can make it up to me," he took a step toward me.

"You can, huh?"

"Uh-huh." He put his arms around me, his lips grazing my neck.

I immediately went warm in all the right places. "You know, we've got at least an hour before Livvie wakes up for her midnight feeding," I pointed out.

Ramirez leaned in close, his breath warm and tingly on my ear. "Then I say we make the most of it."

*  *  *

I awoke to the sound of loud screeching in the vicinity of my nightstand. I fumbled with the baby monitor, my eyes blinking open to take in faint pre-dawn light filtering through the windows. It took me a moment to realize the high-pitched sound was not a twin but coming from my cell phone.

I grabbed it, stabbing the on button.

"Hello?" I croaked. Between the wine, the late night, my husband's talents (and, boy, did he have a lot of them), and two twin awakenings, I think I'd slept a total of two hours. And my voice sounded like it.

"Maddie!" I heard a voice on the other end shout.

"Dana?" I asked, recognition peeking through my sleepy haze.

"Ohmigod, it's a nightmare," her voice trembled.

I sat up, adrenaline kicking in. "What's a nightmare? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know," she wailed. "I fell asleep with the TV on last night, and this morning I woke up and there it was."

"There what was?" I asked, reaching into my nightstand for the TV remote. I flipped it on, watching as the early morning crew on Channel Six filled the screen.

"Ricky," Dana said, even as the image of her boyfriend filled my screen, too. "Maddie, they've arrested him for murder!"

Chapter Ten

"How could you," I asked, swatting my husband on the arm.

"Uhn," he grunted, rolling over in bed as his eyes flickered open. "How could I what?"

"Arrest Ricky!" I yelled, gesturing to the TV screen where the movie star's image was being led away in handcuffs.

"Oh." He yawned loudly. "That."

I swatted him again. "Yes,
that.
"

Ramirez sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the sight of the sheets slipping down his toned, bare torso distract me. "That was low, Jack."

"Look, it wasn't my call," he said.

"But you could have said something! Warned me. Given Dana the heads-up so she didn't have to find out from Channel Six. You knew they were arresting him this morning, didn't you?"

Ramirez sighed again. Then nodded. "Yeah, I knew."

"Then whey didn't you warn me?"

"Because you would have warned Dana, and she would have warned Ricky," he continued. "And we couldn't risk him fleeing."

"Ricky would not flee. Ricky's innocent," I pointed out, not for the first time.

Ramirez shook his head at me. "I hate to break it to you, but it's not just guilty people who get scared and run."

I opened my mouth to protest that he would never do that to Dana, but I realized I wasn't 100% sure on that score. I mean, he
had
run off to Malibu to hide out. He had been with Irina just before she died. And it looked very much like he had cheated with her.

"Look," Ramirez said, "if Ricky is innocent-"

"He
is
innocent," I emphasized, ignoring the small wavering doubt whispering in the back of my mind.

"Sure." He nodded. Though I could tell by the look in his eyes that his wavering doubt had a distinctly louder voice than mine. "And if that's the case, the evidence will clear him."

I pursed my lips together. While Ramirez had less faith in our friend than I did, he had way more faith in the justice system than I did. With the number of celebrities that had gotten away with murder in this town, I had no doubt the cops would delight in making an example of Ricky.

Which meant we were now on borrowed time to get to the truth about Irina's death.

*  *  *

Two hours, four cups of coffee, and one aspirin later Ramirez was at the station processing Ricky, and Dana was at my front door, processing a venti mocha latte with extra whip and caramel syrup.

I was absolutely dying to join her, but I held onto my willpower in a two fisted death grip as I sipped my own coffee. Minus the cream. And sweetener. And flavor.

"I need chocolate," she said by way of greeting as she pushed through the front door, making a dash for my kitchen.

"You okay?" I asked.

"No. But I will be once I get a Hershey's bar." She opened a cupboard and scrunched up her nose at the contents. "God, all you have is diet food."

"I'm on a diet," I said weakly, sipping my bitter coffee.

She slumped into a kitchen chair. "I don't know what to do. I mean, should I visit him in jail? Should I stay away? Should I break up with him? Do you think he did it?"

"Killed Irina?" I asked, jumping on the easiest question first. "No." I was 90% sure.

"Do you think he cheated?"

I bit my lip, remembering the way he'd kept averting his eyes when I'd questioned him. "You want the honest answer or the comforting one."

She paused. "Honest."

"I think he-"

"No, wait! Comforting!" she cried.

I put an arm around her. "I think you need to lay off the junk food," I told her. Then I poured myself another cup of flavorless caffeine and I told her about my conversation the night before with Allie.

"So, you think maybe Katrina killed her sister?" Dana asked when I was done.

"I think the argument is certainly worth looking into."

"Agreed," Dana said.

Which left only one dilemma - what to do with the babies.

I texted my usual go-to babysitters. Unfortunately, Mom sent me a text back saying she was getting a facial that morning. Ramirez's mom was doing a bake sale for the church. And Auntie Marco was busy putting together a party for an A-lister whose name he couldn't say. Though he dropped the hint that it started with a "Kar" and rhymed with "smashy-in".

I looked down at Livvie and Max as I hung up the phone on my last resort.

"It looks like we might have to take them with us," I said, throwing Dana an apologetic look.

But she just shrugged. "Fine. But let's hit the In-N-Out drive-thru first. I need a milkshake." She paused. "And a cheeseburger."

*  *  *

While I navigated the drive-thru, Dana pulled up Google on her phone and looked up the name "Katrina Sokolov".

As she read off the results to me (between mouthfuls of decadent burger that had my black-coffee digesting stomach growling like a caged tiger) one thing became instantly clear. According to the best Google had to offer, there was no Katrina Sokolov. In fact, there was no mention of Irina having a sister anywhere. Which was, in itself, suspicious. Irina must have worked hard to keep her off the press's radar.

From everything we could tell, it looked like there was just one person who even had knowledge of the existence of a twin sister.

Allie's informant.

I flipped a U-turn on Santa Monica, pointing the minivan toward the
Informer
's offices.

The
L.A. Informer
was located in Hollywood, just two blocks east of the trendy part where tourists flocked to the Walk of Fame and two blocks west of the scary part where gangs would shoot you for wearing the wrong team jersey. It was housed on the second story of an old, stucco building that had a faded awning shading the front doors and a rusted fire escape clinging to the side for dear life. If anyone actually had to use it to escape, I feared it would disintegrate.

I parked the minivan in the lot around back and turned to peek at the twins. Both were sound asleep in their seats.

"You go," Dana whispered, gesturing to the building. "I'll stay here and watch them."

"You sure?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's probably safer that way."

She had a point. A celeb walking into the
Informer
offices was like a minnow swimming into a shark's den. Certain death. Or at least front page headlines. And considering Dana was wearing the dark circles of one who had slept almost as little as I had, and she had opted for another pair of comfy sweats today (though she'd thankfully upgraded to a pair of sparkly, wedged Mary-Jane sneakers), staying off the front page was probably in her best interest. So I left her with the sleeping beauties as I prepared to face the paparazzi on my own.

As soon as the elevator doors opened on the second floor, I was assaulted by the sounds of keyboards clacking, phones ringing, and a dozen voices all shouting over each other about exclusives and candid shots. The large space was divided with cubicle half-walls, which everyone seemed to ignore, shouting over the tops of them. In the center of the room sat one office, walled in with glass, and in the center of that sat Felix, his back to me, Bluetooth in one ear, arms waving madly. I charged toward him, ignoring the looks from curious cube-dwellers as I did. One thing I'll say for tabloid reporters - they didn't miss much.

"I don't care how private it is, I want wedding shots," I heard Felix shout into his headpiece as I entered his office.

He spun at the sound of my footsteps, nodding and waving me in.

"So hire our own helicopter," he shouted. "I don't care what it costs. (pause) Wait, it'll cost what?! (pause) Good God, I don't want to buy the helicopter, just rent it. (pause) Never mind. Pay off a guest with a cell instead. We don't need pro quality shots, just shots. I need that dress on the front page, understood?" he said, then punctuated it by hitting the off button and pulling the piece from his ear.

"Maddie, love, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, coming in for a quick hug.

"Hi, Felix," I greeted him, returning it.

"Three times in one week, now," he said. "I'm beginning to think you can't stay away from me." He gave me a playful wink.

Despite the joking tone of his voice, I felt my cheeks warm. "Yes, well, I hate to bother you, but I need some help."