Alibi in High Heels (19 page)

And then the last piece fell into place in my brain with an almost audible click. Charlie. Charlie hadn't been a man, Charlie was a woman.

I felt myself sway on my feet as my crutches slipped out from under me.

"Easy there, Maddie."

I blinked hard, my vision blurred like I was looking at the world through a sheet of waxed paper. I saw Charlene's face hovering just above mine.

"You?" I asked, my voice sounding a million miles way to my own ears. "You and Gisella... that night... the necklace..."

"You look a little flushed, Maddie," she said, her voice echoing in that infuriatingly polite British tone.

I blinked again, trying to control the double visions hitting me harder than a vodka martini on an empty stomach. I looked down at the water bottle still in my hand.

The water.

I let the bottle drop, the contents splashing onto my toes as sweat broke out on my brow.
What was in the water
?

Felix. Felix had given me the bottle... He and Charlene... It couldn't be.

The room began to spin again as I whipped my head back and forth, scanning the backstage area for Felix. What had he done to me?

"Easy, now, Maddie," Charlene said, her blue eyes flat as she stared down at me, her manicured claws digging into my arm to hold me up. "Don't you worry, love."

I watched a slow wicked smile spread across her features as the room closed in on me.

"I'm going to take
good
care of you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but I was suddenly too weak to move my lips. The best I could do was let out a pathetic, strangled sound in the back of my throat.

Just before everything went black.

Chapter Nineteen

I have had the misfortune in my life to be knocked over the head, shot, whacked unconscious, and, last but not least, nearly strangled. (What can I say? Mrs. Rosenblatt is right. My karma
really
sucks.) But drugged was a new one even for me.

And as I slowly blinked my eyes open, one painful movement at a time, not an experience, I decided, that I ever wanted to repeat. My mouth felt like I'd been eating cotton balls, my eyelids almost too heavy to lift. And my head pounded louder than a heavy metal drummer. I groaned. Bad idea. The sound vibrated through my skull, causing stabs of pain to slice through my brain.

"Maddie?"

I froze at the sound of the familiar voice calling my name. I took a breath and forced my eyes open. They moved as if under water, slowly, blinking a few times before the person who'd spoke came into focus.

"Mom?" I croaked out.

"Oh, thank God, Maddie, you're alive."

I did some more blinking, trying to get my bearings as the drummer quickened his pace. I was in a hotel room, which looked a lot like mine except for the fact that the color scheme was a dusty rose instead of my sunshine yellow. A pair of matching Vuitton suitcases were lined up by the door, the closets conspicuously empty.

I looked down and saw I was propped up in a bed, my back to a bedpost. Tied to the opposite post, amidst a sea of tiny pillows, sat Mom and Mrs. Rosenblatt, back to back, their limbs taped down with a length of gray duct tape, a bed post between them. Mrs. Rosenblatt had a piece of tape firmly covering her mouth. Mom's was hanging down on one side, exposing a pair of raw looking lips. That I realized were still moving.

"...and then she just dumped you there and I had no idea if you were dead or alive or breathing. I swear, I thought she'd killed you Maddie. Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're okay!"

I wasn't sure that "okay" accurately described my current condition, but, as I wiggled my fingers and toes, I realized I was alive. Though, as I moved on to moving arms and legs, I realized I also had been given the duct tape treatment. A thick band of it cut through my middle, inhibiting much more movement than a slight wiggle. Someone had also wrapped duct tape around my ankles, securing my one good leg to Wonder Boot.

"I'm okay, Mom," I said. Only it came out more like. "Mumph, mum, mmmmm," considering my lips were taped shut, too.

"Mmmm, mmmm," Mrs. Rosenblatt replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Here, Mads, see if you can inch over here, maybe I can get the tape loose."

I did, wiggling as far as I could, to no avail. I felt pain starting to work its way up my spine as tears clouded behind my eyes.

"Okay, okay, don't panic," Mom said. Though her freaked expression completely matched mine. "Look, maybe I can get it loose with my toe."

My first thought as I looked down at Mom's bright red pedicure was "Eww!" But the second was that it actually might work. And a little toe in the face was a lot better than whatever Charlene had planned for us when she got back.

I leaned my head forward, jutting my chin out as far as I could. Mom scooched her butt forward, doing a yoga worthy stretch in my direction. Still a good six inches away.

Mrs. Rosenblatt moved closer, giving Mom a little more leeway, and she tried again. This time her toe touched my cheek. A couple more rounds of this and she finally had a corner loose. I moved my mouth across my shoulder, catching the tape in my tank top and rubbing back and forth until it finally came loose enough to speak.

"Oh, Mom, you're a genius. God bless Faux Dad's pedicures."

"Mmmm, mmm," Mrs. R said, jutting her chin toward me.

She and Mom rotated places, and I did a repeat performance of Mom's acrobatics, slipping off my red heel and running my toe along the side of Mrs. R's cheek until a tiny corner of tape came loose.

"My God, I think that's the longest time I've ever gone without speaking," she said, finally wiggling it off on the strap of her muumuu.

I was almost sure of it.

"Mom, what happened? How did you two get in here?"

"It was Charlene," Mom said, even though I'd suspected as much. "Maddie, she was the one working with Gisella. And I think she killed her."

At the moment, I had to agree.

"How did you get here?" I asked. "How long have you been here?"

"Well, after we saw the printouts you left us on that Corbett Winston theft, we thought we'd go check it out. At first no one there wanted to talk to us," Mom said.

"And then your mother got this brilliant idea that we'd pretend we was with the FBI. We told 'em that we was looking into a ring of international jewel thieves."

I rolled my eyes. "And they bought that?"

Mrs. R shrugged.

"Anyway," Mom continued, "finally the manager of Corbett Winston spoke with us and when we asked about Gisella, he said that she'd come in with a companion. A woman Gisella had introduced as her manager."

"Only we hadn't heard of Gisella having any manager," Mrs. R said.

"So, we asked the guy to describe the woman and he told us about this blonde British woman."

"So, we figured that Felix guy was British, maybe he'd have some idea who she was. We came back to the hotel to talk to him."

"Only Pierre rang his room and he wasn't in," Mom said.

"But his Auntie was."

"So we came up to her room and told her what we'd found and that we were hoping Felix could help us figure out who this lady was."

"She ordered tea from room service and we all sat down to wait it out for Felix," Mrs. Rosenblatt said.

"Only she must have slipped something into it when we weren't looking because the next thing I knew the room was doing a shimmy in front of me and we woke up like this."

"When was this?" I asked.

Mom shook her head. "Yesterday, the day before. It's all a little fuzzy. She keeps giving us tea."

"I've decided I hate tea," Mrs. R said.

I didn't blame her.

"We tried to call you a couple of times, Maddie."

"But that was before your mom got her tape off."

"You just kept saying, 'hello?'"

Mental forehead smack. Well, I guess that tells you not to call me in a crisis.

"How long has she been gone?" I asked, staring at the closed door. The matching luggage next to it made me nervous. Charlene had had two middle aged women hostage for over 48 hours. She wasn't likely to just let them go home to identify her to the police. Charlene had already killed two women. What were a few more?

"I don't know," Mom said. "Maybe half an hour."

I bit my lip. Then, remembering how Angelica had said the walls of the hotel were thin, cried out, "Help!" as loudly as the metal drummer in my head would allow me.

Mom and Mrs. R followed suit, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Fifteen minutes later we were still alone and our voices were hoarse. It was no use. Everyone was either at the shows or had taken our cries for a bad police drama on the television.

I tried a different tactic, leaning down and biting at the length of tape around my arms. Which didn't do much. It was amazingly strong. There was a reason that lazy dads the world over used this stuff to fix anything and everything. It held. I continued gnawing at it as Mom and Mrs. R did the same.

Apparently Mrs. R's teeth were pointier than mine as I finally heard a rip from her direction and her arms flapped free. She didn't waste any time, quickly ripping at first Mom's bonds, then mine. A few seconds later we were all jumping off the bed, lengths of duct tape stuck to us at comical angles, making for the door.

But of course, nothing is ever that easy.

Just as we reached it, it swung open.

The three of us froze, our eyes ping-ponging between the figure in the doorway and the three of us. On any other day, we might have charged her and probably made it. Unfortunately on this particular day she held a shiny silver gun in her hand.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but she shoved the gun in my direction. "Shut up."

Apparently it was a rhetorical question.

Charlene edged into the room, letting the door fall shut behind her. "The maid said she heard the television on in my room. Couldn't have been you loudmouths, could it?" she asked.

This time I kept my mouth shut. Definitely rhetorical.

As she moved into the room, her cool blue silk pantsuit perfectly matched her pale blue eyes, giving her an icy edge. Granted, the fact that she'd drugged me then tied me up might have colored that assessment just a little.

"You two," she said, waving the gun at Mom and Mrs. Rosenblatt. "Into the bathroom."

Mom looked at me. I did a slight shrug. Since she had the gun and we didn't, I didn't think we were really in a place to argue.

Mom slowly moved to the right, inching into the bathroom, her hands up in a surrender motion. Mrs. R followed, waddling awkwardly through the tiny doorway.

"Maddie?" Mom said tentatively.

"I'll be okay," I said with a false assurance I certainly didn't feel. Especially when Charlene shut the door behind them, barricading it with a chair underneath.

"I guess it's just you and me now," she said, a slow smile spreading across her features.

Oh boy.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," she said advancing on me.

"I do?" Instinctively, I took a step back.

"The camera. Hand it over."

"You know, technically, it doesn't actually belong to you, it belongs to Gisella. Who is dead, but I guess you'd know that because you killed her. But really, I think the camera is the rightful property of her heirs. So, unless you're in her will-"

"Shut up!" She pointed the gun at my nose.

I shut up.

"Felix was right. You do have a big mouth."

Hey! "Felix said that about me?"

She barked out a short laugh. "Of course not. The man worships the ground you walk on."

"He does not," I protested.

"Oh, yes he does. Maddie this, Maddie that, you're all he talks about. It's disgusting."

I paused. "So... he's not working with you?"

He scoffed. "Felix? Please. You think he'd be man enough to follow through with something like this?"

Hey! Felix may be many things, but he wasn't a chicken. But, instead I said, "But the water. He handed it to me."

She grinned. "I asked him to. Said you looked a little flushed. Heaven forbid his Maddie should be dehydrated."

"
His
Maddie?" My cheeks flooded with heat.

"Oh, don't be flattered. Felix has the brain of a fruit fly."

"Hey!"

She scowled at me.

Oops, I'd said that one out loud.

She narrowed her pale eyes at me. "I have had to deal with that man's bullshit my whole life. I've sat by as he was handed everything that I had to struggle for. Do you know what it's like being the
adopted
child of the trophy wife? After dear old Dad died, Felix got everything, the title, the land, the money. And what did I get? Nothing. He never had to work a day in his life. All the while I had to grow up dirt poor going to visit my titled relations in the castle that should have been mine. Felix doesn't even like England! Running off to L.A. to live in the land of bimbos and write for that silly paper."

She was getting so worked up an unattractive glob of spittle was forming at the corners of her mouth, reminding me of a rabid dog. I cringed, involuntarily ducking to avoiding being the victim of an over annunciated "P".

"But all that was going to change," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Once I got him to marry me."

"But he's your nephew," I said getting just a little squicked out.

"Adopted. We're not blood relations, remember. As my dear old dad delighted in pointing out at every turn."

"You really think he'll marry a killer?"

"You really think he'll find out?" she asked.

"All the signs that pointed to Felix being the killer... they easily pointed to you as well," I reasoned, stalling for time. I heard Mom and Mrs. R shuffling in the bathroom, a thud falling against the closed door. "It was you that found out about Donatello, wasn't it?"

"You mean
Donata
?" She smirked. "Yes. The moment I met her I knew there was something familiar about her. Then Angelica told me she'd been a model in the past. Of course, I looked through my old magazines and what do you know, she had. As a he. Fashion may be an open minded sort of business, but there are limits. And Donata and I both knew that a transsexual agent was pushing them a little too far."