Danger in High Heels (12 page)

You can imagine how Ramirez had reacted. In fact, his feelings toward Felix, and my own heat-of-the-moment-whoops, had almost derailed our relationship for good. But, in the end, I'd gone with my heart and pledged my undying love and sole possession of my lips to Ramirez. Leaving things between Felix and me in the land of what-if, and almost-was.

Not that it meant Ramirez had forgotten it all.

Especially if the look on his face that accompanied the grunt was any indication. If I'd said, "Look honey, Jack the Ripper is here," he'd have probably been more enthused.

But, as it was, that Ripper was dining with the one person who had "gory details" about my case. And I planned to find out exactly what they were.

"Can we sit near our friends?" I asked the host, pointing toward Felix's table.

Ramirez turned on me, eyes narrowed, suspicion radar rising.

I did my best eyelash-batting-wide-eyed-innocence thing.

Luckily, there was a free table, just two over from Felix and Allie.

Unluckily, Ramirez continued giving me The Look as the host led us to it. I tried to ignore it, though it was like ignoring laser beams being poked into my back.

"Did you know he was going to be here?" Ramirez grunted into my ear.

"No!" I did a "puh-sha" thing, expelling air through my teeth. "I mean, why would I want to meet up with him for our date night?"

Ramirez just grunted again, his eyes narrowing further.

And his weren't the only ones.

Allie spotted us as we approached. Her eyeliner heavy eyes first went round with surprise, then narrowed into a matching pair to my husbands'.

"Maddie." She said my name as it if were a dirty word.

"Why, Allie!" I responded, laying the sugar on double-iced. "What a surprise to see you here."

She pursed her lips together. "Really."

I ignored her. "And Felix, so nice to see you."

Felix swiveled in his chair, the only person in the group not shooting me daggers at the moment. "Maddie, don't you look lovely tonight?"

"Thank you, I try."

Ramirez grunted again.

"And Jackson," Felix said, acknowledging the grunter. "Lovely to see you as always." He stuck a hand out in a friendly gesture. Ramirez grabbed it so hard I feared he'd crush it.

"Well, I don't want to interrupt your dinner," I said, steering my husband away as Felix extracted his hand, only wincing slightly. "Enjoy your meal," I added, then quickly skirted over to our own table. I took a seat and grabbed a menu, propping it in front of my face to shield me from the laser beams still being trained at me from across the table.

I only got as far as the salad section before my husband's hand shot out and lowered my shield.

"Maddie." He said my name low, dark, and in the dangerous tone I knew he used to interrogate suspects.

I gulped and pulled out Innocent Face again. "Yes, dear?"

"What was that?" he asked pointedly.

"What was what, honey?"

"That. With Felix and Allie."

I blinked again. "What?"

More eye-narrowing. It was a wonder he could see out of those suckers at all.

"What?" I protested. "I can't say hello to a friend who I
happen
to run into at a restaurant."

"'Happen?'"

I set my menu down on the table. "Just what are you suggesting, Ramirez?"

"What I'm suggesting,
Springer
, is that it's a hell of a coincidence."

I shrugged. "It's a small town. Coincidences happen."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not
that
small."

"Look, do you want to grill me, or do you want to order a bottle of wine and enjoy the one night out we've managed to have in the last three months?" I asked.

Ramirez grunted again, but he picked up his menu and started reading, which I took as a good sign. Crisis averted.

Now, to get what I'd really come here for.

The server appeared, we ordered a bottle of Pinot and a selection of appetizer-sized tapas plates, and Ramirez dug into the bowl of chips in front of us. I followed suit, my eyes focused on the food while my ears tried to pick up any snippet of conversation I could from the table two over where Allie was giving Felix an earful about something. Something important if the little frown between her threaded brows was any indication.

I wished we'd been sitting next to them. The couple between our tables was older, casually dressed, and talking about their youngest child who, if the gist of the conversation I overheard was any indication, was spending a fortune at college.

I tried to tune them out, honing in instead on Allie's mouth as she formed the words.

"... together on
Dancing with Celebrities
.... overheard the name... very reliable source...
and then he went and charged an entire week's hotel stay in Ft. Lauderdale over spring break
."

I paused, shaking my head as the older woman's voice rose in volume. I didn't care about the spring break kid. I cared about what name
was overheard on DWC.

I cocked my head to the side, straining to hear over the couple again. This time it was Felix talking.

"You're sure your source is being straight with you?"

"Absolutely. 100% trustworthy," Allie responded.

I knew it! There
was
a press leak on DWC. And he or she was leaking info straight to Allie. I strained, hoping to hear a name.

"And your source saw them together before Irina died?" Felix asked.

I saw Allie nod, her blonde bangs bobbing up and down. "Right before she...
said to the captain that I could use the overtime anyway - earth to Maddie
?"

"What?" I snapped my attention back to my husband, realizing he'd been talking.

"Are you even listening to me?" Ramirez asked, frowning.

"What? Yes. Of course."

"Oh really?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "What was I saying then?"

"You were saying.... something about your captain..." I bit my lip. Then I crossed
my
arms over
my
chest. "You know what? It's just insulting that you're even questioning my ability to listen to you."

Ramirez's eyes took on that dark, dangerous, staring-down-a-perp-in-a-holding-cell look again. "Okay, that's it. What's really going on here?"

"What's going on," I said, trying to hold onto my mock indignity for all it was worth, "is that I'm trying to have a lovely date night with my husband who has clearly been spending too much time at work because he's all suspicion and narrowy eyes," I said, gesturing to the eyes in question. Which, by the way, did not let up any.

"Furthermore-" I went on.

Ramirez raised an eyebrow my way. "'Furthermore?' What are you a PBS character?"

My turn to narrow my eyes. "
Furthermore
, I will not sit here and be accused of... well, whatever it is you're accusing me of."

Ramirez arms were still crossed, but I could see the hint of a smile curving the corner of his mouth. "You done, Springer?"

"Yes." I paused, watching Allie get up from her table and head toward the back of the restaurant. "I mean, no. I... have to pee. And when I get back, I hope we can have a nice, adult meal without any more accusations." I punctuated the last bit by throwing my napkin down and grabbing my purse as I hightailed it after Allie.

I didn't dare look back. I was 100% sure Ramirez was staring after me. And only 50% sure he'd believed my performance.

I quickly rounded the corner of the dining room, making my way down a short hallway that lead to the restrooms. I pushed into the sanctuary of the ladies' room and spotted Allie's stilettos peeking out from under one of the stalls.

I waited for her at the mirror, pulling out a tube of lip-gloss, reapplying my Raspberry Perfection. Finally I heard a tell-tale flush, the stall door opened, and Allie walked out, making for the sink beside me.

"Okay, what's the deal, Maddie?" she asked as she washed her hands. "What are you doing here?"

"Just touching up my make-up," I answered.

"I mean at the restaurant," she said, turning on me. "You knew I was going to be here with Felix. What are you trying to do?"

"Fine," I relented. "I want to know what you know about Irina's death."

Allie stared me down. "So why not just ask me?"

"Okay. What do you know about Irina's death?"

"Lots." She grinned. "And you can read all about it in the
Informer
next week."

I gritted my teeth. "Look, Ricky is a friend of mine. A good friend. I know he didn't do this."

Allie paused. "A
good
friend, huh?"

I nodded. "Very."

She grinned, a big, wicked Cheshire cat thing. "Okay then, I'll make you a deal."

Uh-oh. I had a bad feeling making a deal with Allie was like making a deal with the devil's perkier little sister. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll share what I know about Irina."

"I like it so far," I hedged.

"In exchange for an interview with Ricky."

"Ha!" The expletive blasted from me before I could stop it. "No way would Ricky go for that. You called him Dancing Death."

"Oh come on! You know I couldn't ignore a headline story like that."

"And you featured Dana as the Fashion Victim of the Day!"

"Okay, she brought that on herself. She was wearing Crocs. In public."

I had to agree with her there. "Be that as it may, you're not exactly Ricky's favorite person at the moment."

"But you're
very
good friends with him, right? You could persuade him to be a little more friendly toward me."

"There's persuade, then there's move mountains."

A tiny frown settled between Allie's brows. "Fine," she said. "Then you're on your own."

She flipped her blonde hair over one shoulder and turned back to her reflection in the mirror, making a big show of ignoring me as she pulled out a tube of ruby red lipstick.

I scrunched my nose up. I bit my lip. I closed my eyes.

"Fine."

Allie's head whipped around faster than a tilt-a-whirl. "Fine?"

"Fine, I'll talk to Ricky."

Her face lit up like Christmas, and she emitted a squeal only small Chihuahuas could hear.

"But I can't promise anything," I warned. "Like I said, Ricky pretty much hates your guts."

"But you'll talk to him?" Allie asked, her eyes shining. "You'll persuade him to do an interview?"

I bit my lip. "I'll do my best."

She giggled and clapped like a twelve-year-old.

"Okay, so spill it," I demanded. "What do you know about Irina?"

"Irina was seen with a woman named Katrina last week on the
Dancing with Celebrities
set," Allie told me.

I shrugged. "So? Who's Katrina?"

"According to sources, she's someone who looks exactly like Irina."

"Exactly as in..."

"Twins."

"So, Irina has a sister," I mused, the information opening up new possibilities.

"Not only that," Allie said, "but they were arguing."

I raised one eyebrow her way. "Arguing as in you-borrowed-my-fav-shoes-without-asking or as in I'm-gonna-bludgeon-you-to-death?"

Allie shrugged. "All I know is it was heated and just days before Irina died."

"How do you know all this?"

Allie shrugged. "A little birdie told me."

"The same little birdie who's also been leaking you stories about theft, murder, and Ricky's whereabouts," I confirmed. "Who is it?"

But Allie wagged a finger at me. "Ah, ah, ah. A good reporter never reveals her sources."

While the jury was still out on the type of human being Allie was, she was, admittedly, a good reporter.

"Fine. What else
can
you tell me?"

Allie shook her head. "Sorry, that's it." She puckered doing a kissy face at herself in the mirror.

"What about an address for Katrina? Where can I find her?"

"When you get Ricky to agree to the interview, maybe I can share more."

I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn't sure how much she was bluffing or how much more she really did know, but if she was holding out on me...

"This isn't a game, Allie," I warned her.

"No kidding," she agreed. "Which is why you should leave the investigating to the real investigators."

"You're a tabloid reporter," I pointed out.

"
Investigative
reporter," she corrected. "Which qualifies me to run with this case a lot more than someone who
used to be
a fashion designer."