Alibi In High Heels

out. And I was glad I did. Dana's number lit up my LCD.

'Hello?'

'Mads! Guess where I am?'

I shifted the phone to the other ear, trying not to drop it as I leaned on my crutches. 'I give up.'

'Paris! I got the spot in the Le Croix show.'

Perfect timing. 'Dana you are amazing. Where are you?'

'I'm still at the airport. My plane just landed. I'll meet you at the Plaza in about half an hour.'

'Uh…' Visions of a pissed off Ramirez flitted through my head. 'That might not be a good idea. How about meet me at the Hotel de Crillon instead. I'll be…' I paused, looking around the lobby. I spied a cafe across the street through the glass front doors. '…across the street at the cafe.'

'Cool. Just let me drop my bags and I'll be right there.'

I shoved my cell back into my purse, feeling guilt gnaw at me again as I notice the 'Three new messages' alert across the screen. Instead of dwelling on it, I hobbled across the street to the cafe where I ordered a large cafe au lait (a girl could get addicted to these things) and a pastry made of flaky, buttery crust and a sweet honey-like filling.

While I waited, I tried Felix's cell. Hey, I promised Ramirez I would stay away from him, not lose his number. And I was away. Besides, I wanted to make sure he had gotten out of police custody okay.

Unfortunately, there as no answer. I left a voicemail, then dialed Jean Luc's number to thank him for hiring Dana and see if there were any new developments at the tent. He informed me that the police still weren't giving back the shoes, he was trying to find replacements that I could 'add some touches to' and that he'd call me if anything new came up.

As soon as I hung up, my cell chirped to life again with Ramirez's number. I hit ignore. I know, he was so gonna be pissed later, but what could I do?

I finished my coffee instead while I waited for Dana.

Fifteen minutes later, she came through the doors wearing a pair of black stretch leggings, a black long sleeve with a picture of a tiny pink poodle on it and a jaunty black beret.

I looked her up and down and I'm pretty sure my expression betray my thoughts as she said, 'What?'

'Poodles?'

'I'm in Paris! I'm doing French chic. You like?' She did a little spin and I couldn't help but grin.

'It's very French.'

'Thanks.' She sat down, depositing her purse on the empty chair beside her. 'So, spill it. What's the latest?'

I did, catching her up to date on the Googling twins and my chat with Donata. By the time I'd finished, my coffee was history and Dana was swirling the dregs of her herbal tea in her cup, her strawberry blonde brows drawn together in thought.

'Okay, so putting aside the whole jewel thief thing for a moment, this Ryan guy was likely the last person to see her alive?'

'Right. Well, before the killer. If he isn't the killer, that is.'

'So, what do we know about him? Just that his name is Jones or Jeffries?'

'And that he's English.'

'Do they have a yellow pages for England?'

I gave her my best 'get real' face. 'Yellow pages?'

'What?'

'I say we go talk to Angelica again. Who knows, maybe this was another stolen boyfriend?'

'Perfect! I told Jean Luc I'd check in with him today anyway. How freaking perfect is this, Maddie? Not only do I get to strut a designer runway, but ohmigod, I get to do it in the most romantic city on earth!'

'Speaking of romance, how goes the long distance thing with Ricky?' I asked, as we gathered our things and hailed a cab.

'Ugh! Don't ask.'

'That good, huh?'

'I take it you haven't seen the latest issues of the Informer?'

I shook my head. 'I try to steer clear of Felix's smut. Why?'

'Well, according to their sources, Ricky was seen kissing Natalie Portman outside the set.'

'According to their sources the Loch Ness Monster is the product of toxic dumping in Canada. You can't believe a word they print.'

'You think?'

'I know. What does Ricky say?' I asked, as a taxi stopped at the curb and I tried to angle Wonder Boot in.

'He denies it, of course. I told that bastard I'd gone a whole month without sex for him. He damn well better not be kissing Natalie Portman.'

I craned around in my seat as the cab took off in the direction of the Louvre.

'What are you looking for?' Dana asked.

'I'm trying to see the Eiffel Tower.'

'It's that way.' Dana pointed out the other window.

'How do you know?'

'I saw it on my way here from the airport.'

'You saw it?' I asked, jealousy washing over me. 'I've been here three days and still haven't seen it.'

'You should. It's totally cool.'

* * *

Ten minutes later we were back at the Le Croix tent. Any evidence that it had once been a crime scene was completely gone, the interior a hum of pre-show activity. The only difference was the runway being reconstructed by the coverall crew, the stained boards having been confiscated into evidence by Moreau and company.

I introduced Dana to Jean Luc, who immediately whisked her away to the fitting rooms. I tagged along (Wonder Boot precluded any sort of whisking on my part) and spied Angelica being pinned into a pleated mini skirt at a back table. I hobbled my way over to her.

'Hi,' I said as I approached. 'Remember me?'

She nodded. 'The Couture Killer.'

The seamstress pinning Angelica snapped her head up.

'I didn't do it,' I reassured her.

She looked from me to Angelica. Then got up and mumbled something about a measuring tape before backing quickly away.

'Wow, you're popular,' Angelica observed.

No kidding.

'Anyway,' I continued. 'I wanted to ask you if you knew a man named Ryan Jones or possibly Jeffries?'

Angelica scrunched up her faces, squinting her brown eyes. 'No, I'm sorry. Doesn't ring a bell. Why?'

I felt my hope deflating. 'It's possible he was dating Gisella.'

'I didn't really keep track of her current boy toys.'

'Hmm, well how about these? Any of these names stand out?' I handed Angelica the list of names I'd gotten off Gisella's camera.

She stabbed a finger at the first one. 'Oh, sure, I know Rocco. He was this Italian guy we met while doing a shoot in Venice. Total meathead, but really cute. Gisella took him back to her place after we wrapped, but it was just a one night kind of thing. This one,' she said, pointing to Roberto, 'I think I met at a club in Milan. I think he's working in New York now. But the others, no idea.'

'Thanks anyway.' I slipped the list back into my pocket as the seamstress returned, deeming it safe to approach Angelica again.

For lack of anything else to do, I hobbled to the back table to wait for Dana. I sat down beside my empty shoe rack and felt a lump forming in my throat.