Mayhem in High Heels (7 page)

"Felix," I said by way of greeting.

"Maddie. Nice to see you again," he responded in his impeccably articulated Hugh Grant accent. Then he gave me a slow up and down, taking in every inch of me from my swanky suede boots to my barely B's hinting at the neckline of my sweater tank.

I felt my cheeks flush, rethinking that whole getting out of the car thing.

"You look good, Maddie."

"You-" I started, but for some reason my voice stuck in my throat. I cleared it loudly, trying again. "You, uh, you look good, too."

Liar. He looked great.

Despite his lived-in look, even I had to admit Felix had a certain charm about him. He was such a study in dichotomy you couldn't help but be intrigued by him just a little. You'd never know from his appearance that he was an actual British Lord with his own castle and a distant relation to the Queen of England. Felix was what I called a cheap rich guy. He was sitting on a boatload of old family money from his father, yet inherited the penny-pinching gene from his Scottish mother. And by penny pinching, I don't mean buying the small yacht. I mean the driving-a-ten-year-old-beat-up-car, wearing-the-same-pair-of-wrinkled-pants-for-a-week, drinking-watery-gas-station-coffee-instead-of-Starbucks cheap. No joke, I'd actually seen him tip a valet in nickels once.

"So," Felix said, "I hear we've had some excitement, yes?"

I guiltily looked down at my diamond-clad left ring finger. "Yeah, about that..." I trailed off, clearing my throat again.

"Yes? Care to fill me in?"

"Look, Felix, I was going to tell you. But it just all happened so fast. We were in Paris, and there was the Eiffel Tower, and it was all so romantic, and then there was the ring, and, well, I just kind of said yes without thinking. I mean, I wanted to say yes, I'm glad I said yes, but I didn't really think about saying yes before I said yes, I just said it. And then, well, afterward, I didn't really know what to say to you and, like I said, it all happened just so fast. It wasn't like I'd planned it or thought about it or anything like that. It just kind of happened. Fast."

I paused for a breath to find Felix chuckling softly, shaking his head at me.

"What?"

He continued laughing, letting the question hang in the air just long enough for my cheeks to heat again before replying.

"Actually, I meant Gigi's murder."

Oh. Great.

What was it about men that made me instantly stick my size-seven pumps in my mouth?

"Right."

"But congratulations on the upcoming nuptials. Sorry I won't be able to attend. Got big plans that day."

"Oh hell, don't tell me my mother invited you too?"

"No. She didn't."

"Well, then who... Oh." I blamed it on the effect of those two dimples still staring back at me from his grinning cheeks that I didn't detect his sarcasm straight off. Felix was apparently the only person in L.A. County
not
on my guest list. Damn if I didn't blush even harder. "Sorry. I was going to invite you, but, well, I wasn't sure... I mean after... well, you know..."

Felix cut me off, his grin widening considerably at my discomfort. "You know you're adorable when your face goes all red like that. Kind of like a choking victim."

The words every girl longs to hear.

I shook off my guilt and embarrassment, reminding myself that Felix was the kind of guy who made up stories about Bigfoot's secret love child with the crocodile woman. He was a big boy. He could handle a little rejection.

"Exactly what are you doing here, Felix?"

"I told you. Wanted to hear your big news."

"Wanted to hear as in you're a concerned friend, or a nosey reporter?"

Felix cocked his head to the side. "Oh, you know me better than that, Maddie, love."

"Right. Just as I thought. Reporter."

"Cute and smart. Ramirez really is a lucky guy."

For a fraction of a second I could have sworn I saw real emotion flicker across his face. Something like regret mingled with envy mingled with just enough of a hint of unexplored lust to make me blush again.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone, the teasing glint in his eyes returning so quickly it made me wonder if I hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"So, how about it, Maddie? Want to unburden your day on the
Informer
's most sympathetic ear?"

"Hmm. Tempting."

I brushed past him, heading up the flight of wooden stairs to my second story studio.

"Was that a note of sarcasm I detected in your voice?" he asked, following a step behind me.

"Oh, look who's the clever one now."

I fit my key in the lock, and before I could stop him, Felix slipped into the apartment behind me.

"Just tell me one thing: is it true she was facedown in buttercream icing?"

I bit my lip, images of the scene that morning flooding my brain. I nodded.

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Too delicious, the irony. What ultimate revenge for the lovelorn."

I opened my mouth to protest, but something in Felix's words sent the little hamster running on my mental wheel. Could this have been a case of revenge against the wedding planner? A jilted bride or groom? A ceremony gone terribly wrong? I made a mental note to look into that. Had aborted wedding plans resulted in someone with a grudge against Gigi?

"What color?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, Felix's voice jolting me back to the present.

"What color icing?" His eyes were shining with the kind of glee usually reserved for a six-year-old with a shiny new Christmas bike.

"This is not some joke, Felix. A woman is dead."

"It most certainly is not a joke. Do you know how many copies the
Informer
will sell once this story breaks?"

"Okay, we're done here. Out." I pointed, straight-armed at the door. "I'm feeling sleazier just being in the same room with you."

"Flatterer. I see why Ramirez scooped you up."

"Oh, please. You were seconds from trying to scoop me yourself."

The moment it was out of my mouth I regretted it, clamping one hand over my lips as if to stave off any further verbal diarrhea.

But before I had the chance to apologize, Felix threw his head back and laughed out loud again. "Wow, we do think rather highly of ourselves, don't we, Maddie? Every man's madly in love with you, eh?"

I bit my lip. "No! That's not what I meant. I mean... well, at the LeCroix show... it seemed like you were about to... I mean I thought you were going to say..."

Felix's blue eyes twinkled at me, mischief dancing through them like a cat with a fresh ball of string. "You thought I was going to say what, Maddie? That I was madly in love with you? That I'd been secretly pining for you all this time? That I couldn't possibly live another day without you?"

His mocking tone turned that blush into a full bodied thing. "No," I mumbled. "Of course not. Don't be silly."

And listening to him talk now, it seemed just that. Silly. Maybe I'd imagined the whole thing in Paris. Maybe the romance of the city had done funny things to my perception. Maybe the way Felix looked at me was just what he said it was - lust over a juicy story.

Talk about feeling ridiculous. I said a silent prayer the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

"Don't worry, Maddie," Felix went on as I marinated in mortification. "I'm well aware that you prefer the tall, dark, and caveman type."

Hey! "Ramirez is not a caveman!"

Felix quirked an eyebrow my way as if challenging that statement.

"All right, so he can be a little macho at times. But at least he doesn't make a living exploiting innocent people. He's one of the good guys."

"And I suppose that makes me a bad guy?" Felix took a step forward.

Instinctively, I took one back, my tush coming up against the cool tile of my kitchen counter.

"In this case, yes."

He moved forward again, his smile taking on a decidedly wicked glint. "Goody. I always wanted to play the villain."

Oh boy.

I licked my suddenly dry lips. "I-I think you should go now," I squeaked, my voice coming out a full octave higher for some odd reason.

"Do you
want
me to go?" he asked, emphasizing the one word I really didn't want to explore.

I opened my mouth to respond...

Only it wasn't my voice I heard.

"Yes, she does."

I whipped my gaze to the front door and found Ramirez's broad shoulders filling the frame. His hand hovered just over the gun I knew he kept strapped under his jacket, his brows hunkering down in a way that made his dark eyes fairly growl with menace.

I did a dry gulp. Then put on my best innocent face and did a little one finger wave. "Hi, honey."

But Ramirez ignored me, his gaze locked on Felix like a homing device. On a bomb. About to go off.

I can't say I completely blamed him. As complicated as my history with Felix was, throw Ramirez into the mix and... well, let's just say that the last time Ramirez and Felix were in the same room, Felix's lips were on mine and Ramirez was dumping me. A memory that, as evidenced by the vein starting to bulge in Ramirez's neck, hadn't faded from his mind.

"Felix," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Jack, lovely to see you again," Felix said breezily, as if the two were old friends meeting for a pint at the pub. He was doing an excellent impression of a man unfazed by a pissed-off cop, though how much was acting, I wasn't sure.

He grabbed my left hand, holding up the two-carat rock resting there. "I hear congratulations are in order."

Ramirez's nostrils flared, his eyes shooting from Felix's face to his hand holding mine, then narrowing. I had the distinct feeling if I squinted hard enough I could actually see the testosterone crackling in the air.

I shook off Felix's grip, lest he tempt Ramirez into actually using that gun.

"Felix just dropped by to discuss Gigi's death," I said, trying to defuse the situation.

Ramirez tore his gaze from Felix's smirk (with obvious difficulty) to me.

"Of course, I told him I had nothing to add and that he'd have to go sniff out a link to the Loch Ness monster on his own."

I gave Felix a pointed look. Now would be an excellent time to make an exit, pal.

But he seemed pleased as punch to remain in the line of fire, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

"Oh, Maddie," Felix said, "don't you worry your
pretty
little head..."

Ramirez growled deep in his throat. Actually growled.

I rolled my eyes.

"...one bit about it. I've always got a Nessie angle up my sleeve."

"I'll bet," I mumbled. "Well, as fun as this has been, time to go, Tabloid Boy."

I grabbed Felix's sleeve and physically propelled him the three feet to the front door. All the while Ramirez staring him down as if he were a bug he'd like to put a boot to. They sidestepped past each other, and I held my breath, knowing just how easy it would be for Ramirez's fist to accidentally shoot out and catch Felix in the jaw.

Felix must have realized too, as, despite the cool grin still cracking his cheeks, he scuttled out double time.

"I'll see you soon, Maddie," he called over his shoulder.

Prompting another growl from Caveman.

I shut the door, internally sighing with relief that we'd avoided bloodshed.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Ramirez ground out.

I spun around to find his arms crossed over his chest, narrowed eyes now zeroing in on me.

"Oh no, pal. Don't play mad with me. How about you tell me what this," I said, gesturing between him and the closed door, "was all about?"

"What?"

"The silent pissing contest. 'Grunt, grunt, hands off my woman.'"

He softened his stance, uncrossing his arms. "I didn't grunt."

I raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Much."

Despite playing the hard-ass, I couldn't help a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Thanks for not hitting him."

"You're welcome. But no promises about next time."

"Fair enough." The way Felix had taunted Ramirez, next time I might hit him myself.

Ramirez sank down onto my futon and flipped on the TV, the tension leaking out of his shoulders and instantly being replaced by a look of fatigue.

"How did it go at L'Amore after I left?" I asked, settling down beside him.

"Fine."

"Fine? Like, fine how? Anything interesting at the crime scene? Any witnesses crop up?" I asked, trying my best at casual curiosity.

Unfortunately, Ramirez knew me better than that.

"No way."

"What?"

"There's nothing I'm willing to share with a nosey blonde who hangs out with tabloid reporters."

"Hey!" I stuck out my lower lip in a mock pout. "We don't 'hang out.' I was ambushed."

He grinned, tilting my chin up to face him. "You're a lot of trouble, you know that, Springer?"

I nodded.

"Good thing you're so cute."

I couldn't help my insides from doing a squealy girly thing. The hot guy thought I was cute.

"So... how about cluing the cute girl in on your case?"

Ramirez shook his head, but the grin remained in place. "All right, I give in."

My turn to grin.

"Cause of death was one stab wound to the back with a cake knife, wiped clean of prints. No defensive wounds, which indicates the killer was someone she knew and trusted. Time of death was approximately 10:32 am."

"Wow, that's a specific approximation."

"Her watch stopped."

I raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "Got clogged with buttercream."

"What about DNA?"

"Have to wait for lab techs to finish processing."

"Okay. What else?"

"That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yep."

I sank back in my seat, suddenly thinking Dana and Marco were right. If that was all he had so far, Ramirez really did need our help.

Having divulged all he knew, Ramirez focused on the TV. Me - I had no interest in guys in squeaky shoes putting a ball in a net. Instead I wandered over to my drawing table, picking up a sketch for a pair of ruby red slingbacks I'd been working on. On the floor next to my drawing table sat a brown package that I'd swear hadn't been there this morning.