Undercover In High Heels

“What the-” she started.

I did an instant shushing motion, holding an index finger up to my lips.

“Maddie!” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” She scrunched up her nose. “And what’s with the hair?” she asked, fingering my newly brown tresses.

“It’s a disguise.”

“Totally good idea, ” she said, nodding sagely. “ ’Cause if Ramirez catches you here, you’re toast.”

“You’ve seen him?” There was Minnie Mouse again.

Dana nodded. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure he used the words arrest and blonde in the same sentence. He gave me the total third degree about where you were. I told him that you were at your mom’s, and I think he’s on his way over there now.”

I cringed as an image of Ramirez interrogating Mom popped into my head. Though I wasn’t sure which one I felt sorrier for.

On the upside, having Ramirez out of the way for a couple of hours made things that much easier.

“Listen, I’ve got a plan, ” I said, dragging Dana behind the crane as a pair of grips walked by. I quickly filled her in on the idea that had been cooking in the back of my head all morning. And, yes, I’ll admit it was just a wee bit on the “harebrained” side, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work.

All I needed to implement it was one more person.

Mia.

I realized that Mia was the key to all of this and the only person on the set whom I hadn’t talked to yet. And unfortunately, I needed her help if we were going to pull this off. I know Mia wasn’t exactly known around the set as the helpful type, but I had a feeling that if anyone was eager to get rid of Mr. Poisoned Pen, it was her.

Dana and I watched from the wings while Mia and Ricky wiggled under the sheets of Ashley’s bed, pausing every few minutes for Mia to complain about Ricky’s hands skimming inappropriate places or the camera not zooming in on her good side. Finally Steinman was satisfied (or fed up) and yelled, “Scene, ” breaking for lunch. Poor Ricky looked infinitely relieved.

Dana and I gave Mia a three-count head start to her trailer before slipping out the back.

I was happy to see that Ramirez was still nowhere in sight (thank you, Mom!) as we tippy-toed between the corrugated-metal trailers, passing Ricky’s, Blake’s, and the one marked TALENT before coming to Mia’s. Dana rapped two knuckles on the metal door.

“Yes?” came the sharp reply from inside.

“Wardrobe, ” I called.

“Oh for God’s sake, ” I heard her respond, her voice growing louder as she moved toward the door. “We just finished the last scene.” The door popped open and Mia stood glaring at me. She was wrapped up in a red silk robe that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Her lips were painted red to match, as if lipstick were the first thing she’d thought of putting on when she returned to her trailer. Her feet were bare, and her enviable blonde curls framed a face that was etched in a deep scowl.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “I have my own wardrobe person, you know?”

“Right. Um, listen, could we come in for just a minute?”

She put both hands on her slim hips, narrowing her eyes at me. “Why?”

I glanced nervously over my shoulder. I wasn’t sure how long Mom could keep Ramirez occupied, but I had a feeling even she had her limits. “I need to talk to you about your stalker.”

Mia blew a short puff of air through her ruby red lips. “What, you trying to sell a story to the tabloids? Think you can get a quote from me or something?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I…” I paused, not sure how to voice my idea without sounding like a bad Scooby-Doo episode.

But Dana jumped right in. “She has a plan to catch the killer.”

Gee, thanks, Shaggy.

Mia arched one slim, professionally shaped eyebrow at me. “So you’re a wardrobe assistant and a detective?”

“Look, can I please just come in for a minute to talk?”

I could tell she still had her doubts, but luckily her curiosity won out over skepticism. She stepped aside, silently allowing us entry. We navigated the two metal steps and quickly shut the door behind us.

“So?” Mia sank down into one of her velvet-covered sofas, arms draped casually over the back in a practiced pose straight out of a Marlene Dietrich movie. “What do you want from me?”

I gingerly perched on the sofa opposite, glancing out the brocade-covered windows to make sure the coast was still clear. Just a couple of grips smoking cigarettes. So far, no Bad Cop.

So far.

“Maddie has been helping the police investigate the murders, ” Dana started.

“Really?” Mia eyes roved my person, taking in the leather and clashing heels. “You’re working with the police?”

“Uh, well, sort of.” I shot Dana a look. “Loosely.”

“We’ve already questioned tons of suspects and narrowed it down to someone on the set, ” Dana continued.

“I’m not surprised.” Mia snorted. “They’re all jealous of me. Any one of them could want me out of the picture.”

“So you think the killer really is after you?” I asked.

“Of course! Veronika was just a stand-in. Who’d bother with her?”

I paused, wondering if I should mention Veronika’s extracurricular activities on the set. But I figured at this point, what did I have to lose?

“We think Veronika may have had a little side business going on. Blackmail.”

Mia raised both eyebrows and gasped out loud. “Blackmail? Who on earth was she blackmailing?”

I shrugged. “We’re not sure.”

“But we’ll find out, ” Dana piped up beside me. “Maddie’s a totally good detective.”

Mia turned to me. “Oh?”

“Um, well…”

“Don’t be so modest.” Dana chucked me on the shoulder. “She’s helped the police lots of times before. And we always get our man. Right?”

Mia’s lips quirked up; she seemed truly amused at this. “Just like the Mounties, huh?”

I cleared my throat. “Anyway, we have a small favor to ask. We think we might be able to find the identity of your stalker if we catch him in the act, so to speak.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“In the act of trying to harm you, ” Dana supplied.

“You want to use me as bait?” Mia’s voice rose to a level of shrill just slightly below dog whistle.

“No, no, ” I reassured her. “He’ll only think it’s you.”

“I’m the bait, ” Dana said proudly.

Mia gave her a slow up-and-down and made a face. “You seriously think someone would mistake you for me?”

“They mistook Veronika for you, ” I reminded her.

She sucked in her cheeks, thinking this over. “What do you need me to do?”

I felt my stomach lurch-maybe at the relief of getting her cooperation (no small hurdle, as the last week had taught me), or maybe at the thought that we were actually going to go through with this Lucy-and-Ethel scheme.

“All we need you to do is stay away from your trailer tonight.”

Mia frowned. “Why?”

“I’ll pretend I’m you, ” Dana chimed in, “and after we wrap, I’ll go into the trailer, seemingly alone. Only Maddie will be watching from the bushes, ready to call for help as soon as the killer appears. But if he sees two of us, well, he’ll know I’m a fake. So we need you to stay out of sight.”

“Can you do that?” I asked.

Mia nodded slowly. “All right. You really think this will work?” she asked, watching me carefully under her