She shot me a "get real" look, completely ignoring my protests. "-but all the clues point to him. And, if he did, that means he must have been the one blackmailing Donata about her past in the first place."
"Which is completely ridiculous. You've seen Felix. He knows nothing about fashion. There's no way he'd know about a seventies male model."
"He works at a newspaper. He has all kinds of access."
I bit my lip. "True," I said slowly. "But what would tip him off? I mean, it isn't the type of thing that you'd go looking for unless you knew it was there."
"What about his aunt? You said she never misses Fashion Week. I'm sure she knows all the designers and models. Maybe he saw some old fashion magazines of hers. Maybe she said something that had him putting two and two together."
I felt my brow pucker. "I don't know, Dana. I mean, it's Felix."
Dana gave me a look. "Right. And how much do you really know about this guy?"
I stabbed at a bite of waffle. She had a point. He'd kept a peerage secret and hid his relationship with a murdered model. I suppose it was possible that he had other skeletons lurking in his closet.
"Maddie, don't let one little kiss cloud your judgment."
My head snapped up. "I am not-"
But she shot me down with the "get real" look again.
I shut my mouth. "Fine. Finish your grapefruit," I said. "We'll go visit Auntie Charlene."
Chapter Fifteen
I finished my waffle, then picked up my crutches and headed down to the front desk, Dana in tow. Back at the castle, Charlene had mentioned that she was coming back into Paris to attend a show today. I crossed my fingers she'd come back to the same hotel.
Pierre, aka Andres, was on duty as I approached. He ducked behind the counter as soon as he saw me.
I looked at Dana, then shrugged. I stood on tippy-toe and peeked my head over the counter.
"Uh, Pie- I mean, Andres?"
"Is she with you?" he whispered, crouching on the ground.
"Who?"
"The loud one. Mademoiselle Rosenblatt?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
He did an audible sigh of relief, then stood up, brushing invisible lint off his jacket. "Thank the gods."
"I take it the date did not go well?"
He shook his head. "That woman, she is… how do you say… too much to handle. All she want to do is kiss me. I am not machine. I am man, with feelings!"
I tried to hide the grin tugging at my lips. "I see. Uh, listen, I was wondering if you could check if someone is a guest here. Charlene…" I paused, trying to recall Auntie's last name. "Fellows?" I finished.
"Oui, I will check. Uh, you have not seen the Mademoiselle Rosenblatt today?" he asked, still warily glancing over my shoulder as if she might appear from behind one of the decorative white, marble columns.
"No, I haven't." Which, now that I thought about it, was odd. Surely news of my arrest must have reached Mom. I'd honestly expected her to come bursting into my room with a rib-crusher hug last night, demanding to know what had happened to "her baby". Suddenly I felt a little neglected.
"Ah," Pierre said, his fingers flying over his keyboard. "We have one Mademoiselle Charlene Dunn, checked in last night. You wish to call her room, oui?" he asked.
I nodded. "Please."
Pierre pulled a phone out from behind the desk and set it on the counter, dialing the room number. He handed the receiver to me just as it was starting to ring.
On the third one Charlene's voice came through.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Charlene. It's Maddie Springer," I told her.
There a slight pause on the other end. "Yes? What can I do for you, Maddie?"
"I was wondering if I could come up and talk to you for a moment?"
Again with the pause. "Well, I was just on my way out. I'm due at the Hermes show today."
"Please," I said, appealing to that famous British etiquette. "I'll just be a moment. It's about Felix."
"Oh." I heard her breathe deeply into the receiver. "Alright, I supposed I could spare a moment. I'll meet you in the lobby."
"Thank you."
I hung up, handing the phone back to Pierre.
"Thank you, Pierre," I said. Then looked down at his nametag. "Sorry, I mean, Andres."
He shrugged. "As long as you keep the Rosenblatt away from me, you may call me anything you like.
Dana and I settled into a pair of cream colored chairs situated around a dark, cherry end table in the lobby to wait for Auntie Charlene.
"This is ridiculous," I said. "There is no way Felix killed two women. It just isn't like him."
"Maddie, just because he's a good kisser-"
"I never said he was good!"
Dana shot me a look. "You didn't have to. You blush like a virgin every time I mention it."
Dammit if I didn't feel my cheeks go red. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying my best to hang onto some shred of dignity.
"And your point?" I said.
"My point is let's talk to his Auntie."
I didn't respond. Mostly because I knew she was right. Not about the kissing thing, but about the possibility that Felix could have a hand in this. Not that I actually thought he'd kill two women. Even a slug like Felix had his limits. But that maybe, somehow, he was inadvertently mixed up in all this.
We didn't have to wait long, as a few minutes later Charlene stepped off the elevator, dressed in a light, cream colored pantsuit, a soft peach blouse underneath. A tiny frown of concern etched her features, settling between her pale blue eyes. "Sorry, to keep you waiting," she said, her lightly accented voice as evenly modulated as ever.
"No problem. Charlene, this is my friend, Dana. Dana, Felix's Aunt Charlene."
Dana raised an eyebrow at me. Then leaned in and whispered, "This is dear 'old' Auntie?"
No kidding.
"Hello, lovely to meet you." Charlene extended a hand in Dana's direction.
She shook it as Charlene perched straight backed on the edge of an armchair facing us.
"So, what is it I can do for you today, Maddie?" Charlene asked.
"I wanted to ask you about Felix."
"So you said on the telephone."
"Specifically…" I looked to Dana, not sure how to broach the subject in the face of Charlene's very prim and proper demeanor.
Dana rolled her eyes at me. "We were wondering if he's shown any special interest in fashion lately?"
Charlene raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I think everyone in Paris has this week, don't you?"
"I mean, maybe less recently than that. In the last few months," I said, thinking back to when Angelica said Gisella had signed on at Donata's agency.
The little frown lines deepened and I steeled myself against warning her that she was going to have to Botox that out if she kept it up.
"I'm not really sure I know what you're getting at. As I'm sure you know, Felix doesn't really, uh, dress to trends," she said. A kind way to describe his fashion sense.
"Let me ask you something else," I decided. "Have you ever heard of the model Donatello Gardini?"
"Yes."
I sat up straighter, suddenly on high alert. "You have?"
Charlene nodded slowly. "He was quite well known in Europe in the seventies. One of the first male models to catch the public's attention, I believe. Though, I'll admit, it's not a name I've heard much talk about."
"You haven't?" I shot Dana an I-told-you-so look.
"No, as you'd expect he's long gone from the scene, by now."
"So, no one has, say, been asking you questions about him?" Dana asked.
She shook her. Then gave a small smile. "Just you."
"Not, say, Felix?" Dana pressed.
She cocked her head to the side, blonde hair falling over one shoulder. "No," she said slowly. "Why would he?"
Dana shrugged. "Well… I thought perhaps he might be an… acquaintance of Felix's."
"Not as far as I know. Donatello has been long gone from the fashion scene. You have to remember, this was before anyone really paid attention to male models. From what I understand, he was hot for a season or two, then faded into relative obscurity."