Danger in High Heels (25 page)

I slowly inched in the direction she indicated. "Why?" I asked, my eyes cutting to the street outside the glass. If I could just get someone's attention outside, maybe they could call for help. "Why did you do it?"

"Why?" she repeated. "The same reason I do anything. For fashion," she said, her chin lifting. "Fashion is my life."

"I don't understand," I prompted.

"I have sacrificed everything to get where I am," she said, the words coming out in a rapid stream. "Everything, you understand? No family, no life outside of the studios and the shop. How many times have we gone out since we graduated?"

"Uh, none?" I said, truthfully.

"Exactly! I have nothing but fashion." Her eyes blazed, suddenly taking on a feverish look. "And
she
was going to take that away from me."

"'She,' meaning Irina?" I made it to the door and scanned the street beyond. There was a coffee shop across from us where a couple was sitting outside, drinking from steaming paper cups. Next to that was a jewelry store. On either side of us were other clothing boutiques. A woman with a small dog in her purse entered the one on the left, a teenager wearing earbuds exiting the one on the right. But none of them was paying attention to what was going on inside The Sunshine State.

"Yes, Irina!" Lana spat out, drawing my attention back to her. "She was going to ruin everything. Don't you see, I couldn't have that?"

I nodded, figuring it was better to agree than not when being held at gunpoint.

"Turn the lock," Lana said, indicating a metal catch on the glass door.

I did, hearing my own fate seal with the click.

"Now step away." She waved the gun toward a rack of wide-leg pants just outside the window's line of sight.

I slowly stepped to the left, my eyes scanning the window again for any last hope. The couple outside the coffee shop tossed their cups into the trash and left. A woman with grey hair emerged from the store beside us, walking right past the window. I bit down the urge to wave my hands and madly signal for help as she turned her back to me.

No one was paying attention. Which meant I had to stall, keep Lana talking. Keep her engaged until I could somehow signal for help.

"Irina was the star of your show," I said. "Why kill her?"

Lana shook her head. "Don't you understand Maddie? She was ruining me. The producers thought I was being careless with wardrobe items. They blamed me!"

"And then when the story of the missing pieces leaked to the
Informer
, the press blamed you, too."

"Yes!" she said, nodding. "She was going to kill my career. Everything I had worked for had led up to this point. This show was everything. I was in the running for a costuming Emmy with this show. But after that damned gown of Shaniqua's went missing, the producers were furious. They were talking about replacing me!"

"I didn't know that," I told her honestly.

Lana nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. "Oh, they were. I heard the rumblings. I had to do something. I was desperate."

"And desperate people do crazy things," I said, repeating the all-too true statement from earlier.

"I didn't mean to," she said, almost as if she were pleading with me to understand. "I really didn't. But when I saw her there that day, I knew what she was doing. It all suddenly clicked."

"You saw her in Ricky's dressing room," I said, the pieces clicking finally for me, too.

Lana nodded. "I was bringing him his waltz outfit to try on for next week. I was just going to hang it in his closet, but when I opened the door to his dressing room, I saw Irina. She was stripping off her red dress and shoving it into a bag.
Her
bag," she emphasized.

"And that's when you realized she was stealing it."

Lana nodded again, her eyes starting to tear. "She was hiding it in the back of Ricky's closet. She wasn't stupid. She knew her dressing room was the first place anyone would look for it, but if she hid it in his room, she could come back for it at the end of the day and easily smuggle it off set."

I nodded, remembering what Kaylie had told me about seeing Irina sneak into Ricky's dressing room before that. Had it been to hide the shoes her sister had sold me?

"Did you confront her?" I asked.

"Of course. I flat out asked her what she was doing."

"And what did she say?" I asked, one eye on the windows. The street was oddly empty now. The one time I was dying for foot traffic, shoppers were totally absent. I felt desperation start to bubble in my throat. I could only keep Lana talking for so long. I was running out of time.

"She denied it at first," Lana said. "But I'd caught her red-handed and she knew it. Finally she confessed. Said it was her taking wardrobe items all along, then selling them. That she needed the money." Lana laughed, a short bark of a thing. "Can you believe the nerve? She was ruining my career and wanted
my
sympathy?"

"Shocking," I agreed. Not that I cared at that point. What I cared about was more time. My eyes scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon. Skirts, dresses, pants. All flowy and blousy, annoyingly loose and soft. Not even a belt in sight!

"I told her she had to stop," Lana continued. "That I was going to the producers."

"And what did she say?"

She shook her head, an almost sad look in her eyes. "She laughed at me. She said she'd deny it. Who would they believe: the show's star or some 'little wardrobe woman.'"

"And that's when you killed her," I said slowly.

Lana's eyes turned on me, flashing fire again. "I had no choice! She was going to ruin me. She was taking away all I had worked for."

"So you took off your heavy shoe and hit her with it." Death by ugly clog. No matter what she'd done, I had to feel some measure of sympathy for Irina about that.

"I didn't mean to kill her," Lana said, shaking her head again. "I just wanted her to stop. If she had only put the damned dress back on and promised to stop stealing, I wouldn't have had to do anything."

"That's why Irina was found naked," I said, putting it together. "You caught her in the middle of changing. Ricky was telling the truth all along."

"I honestly didn't mean to create trouble for Ricky," she said. "But when the police starting thinking he did it, well, you see why I had to let them think that."

"Which is why you told me you saw Ricky going into the dressing room."

"And I did!" Lana protested. She paused. "Just not right before Irina died. It was earlier. I saw him leave first. Then I went in."

"He could have gone to jail," I told her, unable to keep the edge of anger on my friend's behalf out of my voice.

Lana's curls bounced as she shook her head again. "No. He has money. He's famous. His lawyer would have gotten him off."

"And you would have gotten away with it."

"I
will
get away with it," Lana said slowly. "There was no way I was letting Irina derail all I had worked for." She paused, her head cocking to the side, sadness returning to her eyes. "And I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm letting you either, Maddie."

Uh-oh.

I gulped, feeling a lump form in my throat. "You don't have to do this, Lana. You can turn yourself in."

"Ha!" she laughed, though there was zero joy in the sound. "And what? Spend twenty-to-life in San Quentin? No thanks, Maddie."

"Please, Lana, don't do this," I pleaded, hearing the fear in my own voice. My eyes whipped wildly to the right and left. No one was outside, there was nothing I could use as a weapon within reach, and that gun was held steady in her hand, trained right on my torso, her finger gripping the trigger tightly.

"I'm sorry, Maddie," she said, her voice holding a note of actual regret. "I'm so sorry it has to be this way."

"You won't get away with it," I told her, switching tactics. "Too many people know I'm here. They know I came to see you. They'll find me and arrest you."

Lana nodded. "Oh they will find you. Shot dead on the floor. The register will be empty, the window broken, and I'll be in the back, looking like I've been beaten up. A robbery gone wrong," she said. "A horrible tragedy."

I swallowed. Damned. She's really thought this through. Kudos to her for thinking on her feet.

I, on the other hand, was drawing a blank on mine. In fact, all I could think of was that despite my love of shopping in life, the last place I wanted to die was a trendy boutique on Melrose.

I watched Lana take a step closer, gun straight-armed in front of her. Her eyes clouded over with tears, but her aim never waivered.

I bit my lip. I felt my insides turn to jelly, my breath come fast, my fight or flight response kicking in overtime. But I couldn't think of a single way to either fight or flee that didn't involve Lana pulling the trigger before I could do more than move an inch.

I felt warm tears on my face as visions of Ramirez, my Mom, Dana, and my sweet little babies flashed through my mind like a slideshow.

"I'm sorry." I saw Lana mouth the words as her finger closed in around the trigger.

I closed my eyes, cringing as I braced for the hot burn of a bullet.

Then I heard it. The shot echoed in the small boutique, the sound ringing in my ears, accompanied by glass shattering in every direction, spraying my back and shoulders with dozens of tiny shards.

I held my breath. And it took me a second to realize I
had
breath. I was still alive.

I slowly blinked my eyes back open.

Then stifled a gasp as I saw Lana sprawled out on the floor in front of me, a tiny, red hole in the center of her chest, sticky liquid quickly spreading across her sheer top.

I whipped my head around, eyes focusing on a figure standing on the sidewalk, just outside the now shattered window.

Blonde hair, D-cups almost spilling from her tight tank, mini skirt riding high on her tanned thighs, and the cutest pink gun you ever saw held in a pair of manicured hands, the tip smoking in the sunshine, still aimed right at the spot where Lana had been.

Allie blinked at me, seemingly almost as shocked at what had just happened as I was.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice shaky.

I nodded. "Nice timing, Quick."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward. "The scarf still had the security tag on it. I was bringing it back when I saw the gun in the window. Didn't take a genius to figure out you needed backup."

Allie might be perky enough to annoy a hummingbird, but I'd take her kind of back-up any day.

Chapter Twenty-One

"What was it like knowing that everyone thought you were guilty?" Allie Quick leaned in, her eyes intent on Ricky as she asked the question.

Ricky cheated his face toward the camera over Allie's left shoulder like a pro, making sure the light hit his jaw at just the right angle before he answered.

"It was rough, I'm not going to lie," he told her.

"But through it all, one person believed in you, didn't she?" Allie prompted.

Ricky nodded, his eyes turning to the chair beside him where Dana sat, holding his hand. "Yes, she did. Dana's my rock," he said.

Dana smiled at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"And how long have you two been dating now?" Tina Bender cut in, sitting in a chair just beside Allie.

While I'd made the promised call to set up the interview with Ricky for Allie (Hey, she had saved my life after all.), I
had
promised an interview to Tina as well. After listening to the two paparazzo's fight it out over who got the interview first, Ricky finally proposed that they could interview him in tandem. As much as Allie wasn't 100% thrilled with sharing, Felix had been ecstatic that the
Informer
would be the only tabloid in town with the exclusive.

I watched the two women jockey for alpha-dog position in the interview from my chair just outside of camera range. I silently sipped my venti mocha Frappuccino as I waited for Dana's answer. (If almost getting shot had taught me anything, it was that life was way too short to spend it dieting.)

"We've been together for three years," Dana replied.

"And there's never been anyone but her in those three years," Ricky cut in. He turned to Dana. "I mean, look at her. Why would I ever want anyone else?"

Dana blushed, the color of her cheeks perfectly complementing her Lover Girl passion pink lipstick.

"There's still one thing our readers would like to know," Allie said, taking over the interview again. "Ricky, you refused to give an alibi when you were arrested. Why?"

I bit my lip. Honestly? I kind of wanted to know that, too. All along I'd had the feeling Ricky was hiding something. While I'd been sure it was cheating on Dana at the time, Lana's version of events had backed up Ricky's story completely. So, if he hadn't been cheating on her, what had he been hiding from Dana?