Free Alibi in High Heels by Gemma Halliday Page A

from Autobahn to something slightly less hectic than L.A. freeway.
    First a stomach bug. Now nightmares. Come on, girl, get a grip.
    Throwing off the covers, I set my one good leg down on the ground and hopped into the bathroom.
    One steamy hot shower and three layers of mascara later, I was feeling more like myself again. I slipped on a white, empire waisted sundress, a red cropped cardigan, and one red sandal with white beading along the strap and just the teeniest tiniest half inch heel. I know, if Doctor Ponytail saw it she'd probably have a cow. But considering half the population of France thought I was a murderer, I needed a little something to lift my sprits. Even if it was only half an inch.
    I was just making my way through a cafe au lait and a pain au chocolat (a croissant filled with gooey, delicious chocolate - do Parisian's know how to do breakfast or what?) from room service when my cell rang and Felix's number popped up.
    I flipped my Motorola open. "Yeah?"
    "Do you always answer your phone that way?" Felix asked.
    "No. I checked the caller ID. I knew it was you."
    "Ah. So, you save your most charming self just for me, then, that it?"
    I ignored the sarcasm and shot back some of my own. "How was dinner with Auntie ?"
    "Lovely. How was your evening? Stab anyone else I should know about?"
    "I hate you."
    "Yet you continue to call."
    "Hey, you called me, pal."
    "Because you asked for a favor. Considering which, one would think you'd be nicer to me."
    I shoved a large piece of croissant in my mouth to keep from shooting something nasty back at him. Mostly because he was right. I did need his help.
    "So, what's the favor?" he asked, as I chewed.
    "I 'eed' ur icks."
    "What?"
    I swallowed the bite. "I need your picks. Your lock picking set. I want to take a look in Gisella's room and it's locked."
    He was silent for a moment. Then, "Here in the hotel?"
    I nodded at the phone. "Yes."
    "Maddie, these aren't the kind of locks you can just jimmy open. You need the key card."
    "Okay, how do we make one of those?"
    Felix sighed. "Well, first you'd have to know the code for that particular room. Then you'd have to program the card with the proper code."
    "Like with a computer?"
    "Trust me, these hotels are very secure. We cannot just 'make' a key card."
    Damn. I shoved another piece of croissant into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Okay, how about I go to the front desk and tell the clerk I'm in room 1243 and that I've lost my keycard."
    "Hmm..." Felix said on the other end. "That might work. I'm sure the clerk wouldn't check your name against the hotel register and even if he did, I'm sure he wouldn't put it together with the stream of reporters outside all vying for statements about the dead woman whose last residence was room 1243."
    "You know, you're a very sarcastic person."
    "It's one of my better traits."
    I gave my phone the finger.
    "Okay, Felix, you come up with a better plan."
    He sighed. "Alright, if you're determined to get into Gisella's room, I'll meet you there in half an hour."
    "And exactly how will you get us in?"
    "Trust me." And he hung up.
    Trust me - famous last words.

    * * *

    If I'd had any better ideas, I might have exercised them. As it was, I finished my breakfast, grabbed my crutches and made my way to the elevators and up to room 1243.
    Felix was standing outside waiting, fresh pair of rumpled khakis on, his hair a little wet as if he'd just showered.
    "So?" I asked as I approached.
    He flashed me a smile large enough to create dimples. Then held up a key card.
    "No way!"
    He nodded. "Yes way."
    He stuck the card in the slot above Gisella's door handle. And, amazingly, the little light turned green.
    "Okay, spill it, Tabloid Boy. How did you get the card?"
    "It pays to be Lord Ackerman," he said, opening the door.
    "What about the dead woman, the press, all that? What, just because you're Lord Ackerman, Andre gave you the keycard?"
    "No, he gave it to me because I'm Lord Ackerman who told him