"You? Dana, you're an actress, not a model."
"Big diff. I played a model in that pilot last spring, Runway Rascals. And I've done a few mall things and boat shows. I could so do this!"
"I don't know, Dana…"
"Look, I have experience, I'm available and I could totally help you clear your name. Please, please, please!"
I'd like to say it was the please that got me. But in actuality, the idea of having a friend on my side here was just too tempting. Between the foreign language, foreign press and foreign police officers watching me like a hawk, I was feeling just a wee bit ganged up on. Call me selfish, but against my better judgment I felt myself saying, "All right. I'll suggest it to Jean Luc."
Dana did a squeal so high I was pretty sure poodles from Santa Monica to Marseille yelped in protest.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Maddie! I'm gonna go start packing right now."
"I said I'd suggest it," I reminded her.
But she didn't hear me. She'd already hung up.
I looked up to see Felix guide Miss Long Legs over toward the lounge, his hand flirting with the small of her back. I told my clenching stomach that I so did not care who Felix fraternized with as I keyed in Jean Luc's number and prepared to convince him that one beach blonde aerobics instructor from L.A. was the perfect addition to his European collection.
Chapter Six
Jean Luc's phone went right to voicemail, so I left him a message touting Dana's abilities and the number of her booking agent. Then I snapped my phone shut and headed for the lounge where Felix and his filly were seated in club chairs, sipping cocktails. Felix was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, a mellow look on his face like the cocktail was doing its job already. The woman sat forward in her seat, talking animatedly, her hand stopping to rest on Felix's arm every so often. Such a perfect little scene of romance in Paris that I almost hated to interrupt.
Almost.
"Felix?" I called as I approached.
His eyes swept toward me. "Maddie, I was just waiting for you."
Yeah, I'll bet. I looked over at the blonde, her dress hugging a chest that made my barely B's look like bug bites.
"Any luck, love?" he asked.
"I talked to one of the other models. Angelica."
"And? Any news?"
"Sort of. I have a favor to ask of you." I looked at the blonde again. "Maybe we should speak in private?"
Felix looked over at his companion. "No worries, love. I've already told her everything. Maddie, this is Charlene Fellows. Char, this is Maddie, the designer I was telling you about."
Charlene put out a slim manicured hand. "Lovely to meet you," she said, her British accent matching Felix's.
I shook it, surprised at the strength of her grip. "Pleasure," I muttered.
"Funny, you don't look like a killer," Charlene said, giving me an up and down, her eyes settling on Wonder Boot.
"I'm not!" I protested. Maybe a little too loudly. Two guys in business suits at the next table stared at me over their glasses of chardonnay. "Look, it's just a coincidence. I swear."
"Maddie, she was just kidding," Felix said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Charlene gave me a wan smile.
I faked one back. Though I'm not entirely sure I pulled it off.
"And how do you two know each other?" I couldn't help myself from asking.
Charlene laughed. "Oh, I've known our little Felix all my life. I'm his Auntie."
I think I swallowed my tongue.
"Maddie, I told you I was accompanying my aunt Charlene, didn't I?"
Accompanying his dear old auntie? Yes. The fact that said Auntie could double for a playboy bunny? No. Definitely not. Not, mind you, that I cared who Felix spent time with. I didn't. He could be dating the entire squad of Lakers girls for all I cared.
So I wasn't entirely sure why my stomach did that clenching thing again as Auntie Charlene laid her hand to rest casually on Felix's knee.
"Uh huh, sure. Only I wasn't expecting someone so…" Stacked. Flirtatious. Slutty. "…young."
Charlene laughed again, a sound some men might call tinkling. Me – I found it fake as hell.
"Well, Felix's father was the oldest. Twenty-five years later my father remarried and he and his new wife adopted yours truly. Turns out my nephew is actually two years older than I am. Isn't that a lark?"
Quite. And, I noticed that the 'adopted' part meant they weren't really blood relatives at all. My eyes rested on Charlene's groping hands again as my stomach rolled and I wondered if the milk in my morning coffee had been spoiled. Clearly I was coming down with something.
"So, what kind of favor?"
"Huh?" I snapped my eyes back up to meet Felix's.
"You said you needed a favor from me?"
"Oh. Right." Only in the face of Auntie I wasn't quite sure that I wanted to blurt out I'd like to use his lock picking expertise to break into a murder victim's hotel room. I wasn't entirely sure I trusted her.
And not just because she was fondling her nephew's thigh.
"Um, I was wondering if I could borrow you for a few minutes, Felix?"
"Auntie made dinner reservations for us. We were just about to leave. Is it urgent?"
Considering Gisella wasn't coming back to the room and the police had likely already done their worst to it, not to mention the fact that I really had no idea what I might look for in there anyway except maybe some clue to Mystery Man's identity, I figured urgent didn't exactly describe the situation.
"No," I conceded. "Not exactly."
"Oh, why don't you come with us?" Charlene suggested. She turned a big beauty pageant smile on me that was all teeth. "I'm sure it wouldn't be any bother to change the reservation for three."
"Thanks. But no thanks. I, uh, I'm not feeling all that well. I've got a little stomach thing going on."
"Oh, too bad," Charlene said. Then gave Felix's thigh a squeeze. "I was so looking forward to getting to know one of Felix's little friends."
My turn to flash the fake smile.
"Tomorrow, then?" Felix asked, rising from his chair. Auntie Charlene did the same, quickly linking one arm trough Felix's.
"Sure. Tomorrow."
"Right. I'll call you in the morning then. 'Night, Maddie."
"'Night," I said to his retreating back.
Wondering why the hell the sight of Charlene's mini-dress encased hips wiggling back and forth beside Felix's should make that bad latte rise like bile in my throat.
I got back to my room and, considering my ill state, promptly ordered a bowl of chicken soup from room service. There. That oughtta shut my stomach up.
I then chucked the crutches and settled down on the chaise by the window to check my messages.
The first one was from Mom, saying she and Mrs. R had printed out a ream of papers on Gisella and to call her as soon as I got in.
The second message was from Ramirez. I felt that clenching sensation in my gut fade as his deep voice filled my ear.
"Hey, it's me," he said. "I'm at the airport. I booked a seat on the red-eye. I'll be there by morning."
Okay, so I know I'd put up a fuss about him coming over, but in all honesty, it made my little heart go pitter patter that he was racing across an ocean to be by my side.
That is until he added, "Don't do anything stupid until I get there."
I stuck my tongue out at the phone as it clicked over. "End of new messages." I deleted both of them, hung up and tried Mom's cell. It went to voicemail, so I left a message of my own saying I was in the room.
Since room service still hadn't made it up with my soup, I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV to wait. Unfortunately, the first thing that hit the screen was a picture of my own face staring back at me. I sat straight up, stabbing a finger at the volume control. The sound filled the room, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying. Damn. I strained, trying to pick out any phrases from the French for the Traveler book I'd picked up in the airport. Unfortunately they clearly weren't asking where the bathroom was or what time the train arrived, so I was out of luck.