He shook his head. 'Google?'
Luckily, I just happened to know a pair of Googling fiends.
I whipped out my cell, dialing Mom's number. She picked up on the third ring and I could hear loud music in the background.
'Hello?' she shouted.
I held the phone away from my ear.
'Mom, it's Maddie.'
'Hey, hon. Say, where are you? Ramirez has been tearing this place apart looking for you.'
I cringed. I was so gonna be on his shit list when I got back. But, if it got me off the front page, I'd say it was worth it.
'Dana and I are following a lead. Listen, I was wondering if you could do something for me?'
I heard a sound like a war whooping in the background. 'What?' Mom yelled.
I resisted the urge to cover my ear. 'Where are you?'
'Mrs. Rosenblatt and I dragged Pierre out to a champagne bar. Mrs. Rosenblatt's on her second bottle and dancing the Cancan.'
I had a sudden unwelcome vision of Mrs. R's muumuu hiked up to her knees, her thunder thighs kicking heavenward. I shuddered.
'Listen, could you do something for me when you get back to the hotel?' I yelled into the phone.
'Sure. Shoot, Mads.'
'I need Felix's address.' I filled her on in all I'd learned at the club. (Okay, maybe not
'Okay,' she said when I finished. 'We'll hit the business center as soon as we get back.'
I thanked her (though I wasn't entirely sure she heard me over Mrs. Rosenblatt's hollering) and hung up.
'Now what?' Dana asked.
It was late, I was tired and my stomach still felt wobbly thinking about Felix and the massive fast one he'd pulled over on me. 'Let's get a room somewhere.'
We piled back in the cab, and asked Mathew to take us to a hotel nearby, preferably one that wouldn't make my Visa wince. Jean Luc had taken care of the travel expenses for the Paris trip, but they didn't cover a detour into London. And, with my designs in police custody, I wasn't entirely sure my bank account had any hope of growing beyond Hamburger Helper size in the near future.
I leaned my head back on the vinyl seat, watching the dark London streets whiz past the window at a rate that sent nausea washing through me again. The more I thought about it, the more foolish I felt for ever trusting a guy like Felix. I'd been the one pleading with Ramirez to get him out of jail. What if it turned out he belonged there? I knew Felix had a moral compass that pointed just this side of North, but had he really offed his girlfriend? Even worse, would he have framed me for it?
I had to admit at that part my stomach clenched the worst. Not that I'd thought I meant anything to Felix. I didn't. And he meant nothing to me. We weren't even friends. More like acquaintances that sometimes bumped into each other.
Lips first.
I closed my eyes, willing myself not to think about it.
Mathew pulled us up in front of the Queen's Cozy Inn and let us out. He gave me one backward glance in his rearview mirror, eyes still wary, before collecting his fare and pulling away from the curb. I had a bad feeling that if Dana and I didn't find the real killer soon, that was the kind of look I was doomed to for life.
After handing over my credit card to the frizzy haired girl on duty behind the desk, Dana and I were shown to a room on the second floor. The bed was standard issue, the duvet a pastel floral print. A scarred dresser sat at one end, a tiny bathroom the other. A television set with rabbit ears sat on the dresser and above that hung a framed lithograph of Queen Elizabeth. The Ritz, it was not. But I didn't care. All I wanted was sleep. Hopefully in the morning things would make more sense.
The room was dark. A single lamp gave off a dim red glow, bathing the room in a light eerily reminiscent of blood. I held my breath, searching through the darkness for him. I wasn't sure who I was looking for, but I knew I had to find him. People were everywhere, bumping up against me, crowding in from all angles. Then I heard the crowd cheering, yelling, hollering. I fought my way through them, pushing and shoving, straining on tip-toe to see around them. He had to be here somewhere. I fought my way through the growing crowd to the front. And, there in the center of the room, standing under a bright red spotlight, was Mrs. Rosenblatt, wearing a leather corset and wielding a long, leather riding crop.
'Hey, Mads, wanna play?' she asked, flicking her wrist, the crop doing a menacing snap in the air. The crowd cheered again.
I turned, ready to run from the room.
When I saw him.
I froze. Unable to look away. Felix. He was watching me from the other side of the room. Staring me down.
Suddenly Mrs. Rosenblatt and the rest of the crowd disappeared. It was just Felix and me. Eyes locked on each other. I tried to speak, but it was like I'd eaten too much peanut butter, my mouth sticky, refusing to open.
Felix closed the distance between us, his eyes intent on mine, a little half smile playing on his lips like he knew a secret that I didn't. He was coming closer, almost floating across the room in slow motion. I tried to speak, tried to move, but my feet were glued to the spot, my limbs too heavy to lift.
Suddenly he was so close he was almost on top of me. 'Maddie,' he whispered.
He reached and grabbed my arm with on hand, the other lifting above his head, wielding a black stiletto heel.
Then I really did scream.
I sat up straight in bed, sweat pouring down my back, my breath coming out in German shepard pants. My eyes whipped around the room, searching for any remnants of the red light, the crowd, the black high heel. Nothing, just a TV, scarred dresser and photo of the queen. And Dana snoring beside me.
I slowly laid back, adrenalin coursing through my limbs, and closed my eyes. It was just a dream.
One that, in light of yesterday's revelations, seemed all too real. That was it. I
I rolled over and looked at the clock. 7:15. With a groan, I slid out of bed and hopped into a lukewarm shower. I turned my panties inside out and redressed in yesterday's clothes, digging in my purse for mascara and lip gloss. Since the hair dryer in the bathroom didn't work, I twisted my wet hair into a French braid and figured I was halfway passable.
I emerged from the bathroom to find Dana yawing, flipping through channels on the television set.
'You were on channel two,' she informed me.
'Swell.' I plopped down on the bed.
'And Jean Luc called. He said he needs me for a fitting at one. Sorry, Maddie, this Angel has to get back.'
I nodded. 'I understand.' Not everyone's career was in the toilet. 'I'll drop you at the airport. Oh, and by the way,' I added as she made for the bathroom, 'there's no hot water.'
I flipped off the TV as Dana shut the bathroom door and I heard water start to run. The last thing I wanted to encounter this early in the morning was another candid shot of myself.
Instead, I grabbed my cell and tried Felix's number again. As before, it went straight to voicemail. I bit my lip, trying to tell my stomach to shut up.
Instead, I bit the bullet and dialed Ramirez's cell. I prayed hard to the saint of forgiving boyfriends as I listened to it ring once, then twice. On the third ring he picked up.
'That was a dirty trick,' he said, his voice hard.
