I watched Margo’s nostrils flare in and out-thanks to the aggressive face-lift, the only part of her face that held any expression. The bad blood between the two actresses ran deep; that much was clear. Deep enough for Margo to kill two innocent victims just to get to Mia? I wasn’t sure. But if the treasure trove of artifacts filling her home was any indication, Margo took her films seriously. Mia’s sabotaging her comeback to the big screen just might be enough to put Margo over the edge.
I was about to ask Margo how well she had known Veronika when the maid came into the room again.
“Excuse me, miss, ” she said softly, addressing me.
I turned. “Yes?”
“There’s a woman out front. She told me to say”-the maid blushed-“to get your ‘fanny’ outside. She’s on the night shift tonight and if you don’t hurry the”-she paused again-“ ‘heck’ up she’ll take off without you.”
Any other time, I would have sent a return message that Porn Star Barbie could go to “heck.” But unfortunately she was my only ride.
I rose, painfully peeling my exposed thighs off the plastic couch, and thanked Margo for seeing me.
“Anytime, honey, ” she said, blowing smoke out through her nostrils. “My door is always open for a bitch session about Mia.”
Jasmine drove through the evening traffic back toward West Hills, having composed herself enough by now that instead of her seeming freaked, the set of her bony jaw just made her look pissed off. She was silent, no doubt using all her brainpower to mentally add up how much it was going to cost to have her baby fixed. I took the opportunity to check my voice mail. Just one message. I keyed in my PIN number and got an earful of Ramirez’s growl.
“I’m at your place, Maddie. I couldn’t help noticing that neither you nor my officer is here. Where the hell are you, Maddie?” he asked, his voice growing louder with each word. “I got a call about a woman shooting at a blonde in a McDonald’s parking lot. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Then the slam of his receiver hanging up echoed through my ears as the message clicked over.
Needless to say, I didn’t call him back.
I looked out the window. The sky was turning dusky pink and blue as the sun sank behind the hills. It was clear that I couldn’t go home tonight without risking a) a pissed-off cop with a pair of handcuffs, or b) a pissed-off crack head with a gun. Ditto Ramirez’s place. Despite his invitation this morning, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be all smiles and sunshine at seeing me right now.
I hit speed dial and called Dana’s number.
No answer on her cell, and Daisy Duke informed me that she hadn’t been home all day. Great.
I looked across the console at Jasmine. If I bribed her with a front-page mention, I could probably spend the night in her den of iniquity, but the idea of strangers touching their tab A while watching me sleep was creepier than a stuffed ferret.
Which left me with only one place to go.
I bit my lip.
“Hey, Jasmine, do you think you could drop me off someplace?”
She gave an exasperated sigh and looked at her dash clock. “If it’s on the way. Where?”
I took a deep breath, hoping the slime didn’t rub off as I gave Jasmine Felix’s address in the Hollywood Hills.
Chapter 17
The sun was long gone by the time we climbed the last ridge to Felix’s monument to modern architecture, the sky a deep blue by now, almost dark enough to see stars if the ever-present sheen of city lights didn’t blind them out. The night air had chilled considerably, and Jasmine and I were doing a teeth-chattering duet as wind whipped through her nonexistent windows.
“I swear I’ll pay for these, ” I stammered, feeling my lips turn blue.
“Damn straight you will! Are we almost there?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Jasmine was eager to get rid of me.
“A couple more turns, ” I responded.
Jasmine mumbled something under her breath (I caught the words blonde and pain in the ass) and cranked the wheel to the right as she wound farther upward. Finally the trees broke, and Felix’s glass structure came into view.
“Wow, ” Jasmine said. “Who is this guy? And more important, what does he like to watch? I could retire on a perv this rich.”
I ignored her comment, as, at the moment, the important question on my mind was, would he put up a slightly snarky shoe designer on the run from the cops for a night?
“You can let me out here, ” I said as she pulled into the drive.
Jasmine shot me a look and, for a second I could see her desire to meet Mr. Megabucks warring with her desire to be Maddie-free. For a second. Personally, I think it was the shot-out windows that put her over the edge.
“Yeah, fine. And don’t think I won’t send you the bill for the car!” she reminded me as I grabbed my purse and got out. I scarcely had the passenger door shut again before she had the Miata in reverse, peeling out of the drive and back down the hill.
I climbed the steps to Felix’s front door, crossing my fingers he was home. I gave a sharp rap and waited two beats while footsteps approached from inside.
Felix opened the door and stared at me.
“Maddie?”
I gave him a one-finger wave. “Hi. So, um, I need another favor.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Lovely to see you, too. What, me? I’m just fine, thanks for asking, love.”
If I’d had any energy left in me, I might have felt bad. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I hate getting shot at.”
At the word shot Felix’s face immediately lost its mocking hint, his eyebrows drawing together in a tight line. “Again? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. She’s got terrible aim. Can I come in?”
Felix stepped back. “Of course. I was just making some cappuccino.” He gave me a quick (sort of) up-and-down. “You look like you could use one.”
He motioned for me to follow him as he led the way down a hallway and into a kitchen massive enough to make Rachael Ray jealous. He proceeded to flip on a cappuccino machine the size of a Buick and pull two coffee mugs down as I sat at the granite counter and relayed to him the entire events of the day, starting with his gun getting confiscated (to which he asked whether I knew how much that thing had cost him-cheapskate) and ending with the Mickey D’s shootout and my conversation with Margo. By the time I was finished, we were both downing steaming mugs of cappuccino, and Felix’s forehead was permanently etched in a frown. No doubt from trying to take mental notes on every detail for the Informer’s headline tomorrow: Blonde Fugitive Spotted Eating Massive Amounts of Apple Pie While Getting Shot At. By Bigfoot. (Hey, they were the Informer. They took a little artistic license with their facts.)
“You think Margo did it?”
I rested my chin in both hands. “Maybe. I don’t know. But with Mia getting another note today, it sounds like whoever it is isn’t satisfied yet. I mean, if Veronika was a mistake, and Dusty was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe whoever is after Mia will try again.”
“Personally, I’d say it sounds like she deserves it. Is there anyone she hasn’t screwed?”
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
“So, what’s our next move, Miss Marple?”
“Who?”
He shot me a lopsided grin. “Never mind.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but my next move is sleep. Which reminds me…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “I was kind of hoping that maybe I could stay here tonight?”
Felix raised one eloquent eyebrow at me.
But I didn’t give him a chance to say no, jumping right into the speech I’d mentally practiced on the way here. “See, my place isn’t safe, what with Isabel running around, and it’s still kind of trashed, and I can’t go to Ramirez’s because, even forgetting the fact that I don’t have a key, he left a really pissed-off message about escaping the babysitter, and he probably wouldn’t open the door for me anyway, and Dana’s not home, probably at SA, and Jasmine has cameras all over the ceiling, and, well, you were my last hope.”