Free Danger in High Heels by Gemma Halliday

time and did a U-turn, pulling back out of the studios on Cartoon's side and exiting to the tune of his, "Have a wonderful day!"
    "So, now what?" Dana asked as we pulled away from the lot.
    I shrugged. I'll admit, a dark-haired guy wearing an oversized earring wasn't a whole lot to go on.
    "Maybe we should go to talk to Lana," I decided, "my friend in wardrobe." What with the murder, I never had gotten a chance to ask her about the alleged thefts on the set. I had no idea if one thing had anything to do with the other, but it was a bit of a coincidence both of them happening at the same time.
    Dana nodded in the seat next to me. "Fine. But then let's get some lunch. I'm starving. I want pizza."
    I glanced over at her. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.
    She gave me a blank look. "What? A girl can't have a pizza craving every now and then?"
    In the almost twenty years I had known Dana, I had never seen her have a pizza craving.
     
    *  *  *
     
    With the Dancing with Celebrities set still shut down, I took a chance that we might be able to find Lana at her boutique on Melrose. After circling a parking garage off Fairfax a dizzying number of times, we finally found a spot on the third level.
    One elevator ride and three blocks of kitschy boutiques later, we spotted The Sunshine State, a bohemian shop whose windows were filled with imported saris, African inspired maxi skirts, and cute little white bodices with Eastern European flair.
    As we approached, I watched the doors open and a woman emerge, tossing her platinum blonde Barbie hair over one shoulder as she tugged the hem of her mini skirt down over a pair of perfectly tanned thighs.
    I felt my eyes narrow in recognition.
    Allie Quick.
    She must have felt my stare, as her gaze turned my way. It took her a moment for recognition to set in, but when it did, her eyes went round, her cherry red lips doing a mirror image in a perfect little "O".
    "Ohmigod, Maddie! Is that yoooooou?" she asked, practically squealing the last part in dog whistle levels.
    "Hi, Allie," I answered, as she attacked me with air kisses.
    "Wow, it's been like forever, right?" she asked, her bimbo accent tinting her voice.
    Here was the thing about Allie: she wasn't a bad kid. But she was a kid. She was like an exaggerated, twenty-five year old version of me - only cutesier, bubblier, and blonder. Words like "whatevs", "deets" and "totes" flowed freely from her lips, her nails were long and embellished with rhinestones, and ninety-percent of her wardrobe was some shade of pink. Her skirts were short, her necklines low, and her boobs a very healthy D cup. She looked like the ultimate dumb blonde, an act she played to the fullest to work male informants all over L.A. She'd graduated top of her class from UCLA journalism school, a position that I had thought would land her a gig on the Times staff. Instead, for some reason she'd decided to write for the L.A. Informer . I had a feeling it had less to do with a love of gossip and more to do with her feelings toward the managing editor, Felix. A fact I wasn't quiet sure how I felt about. There was a time when I would have thought Felix had feelings for me. Not that we'd ever indulged in those feelings (much), but I never quite got what Felix saw in her. (Beyond the D cups, that is.)
    While Allie and I had crossed paths a handful of times, the years and managing editors between us had kept the term "friends" at a distance. It was more like we had a healthy tolerance for each other.
    "How are you, Allie?" I asked.
    "I'm totally great. Got this new story I'm working on. Very good stuff," she added, nodding and grinning in a knowing way.
    "Hmm..." I mused. "That wouldn't happen to be the one where a dancer was killed on the set of Dancing with Celebrities , would it?"
    Allie blinked, playing innocent. "Whatever would give you that idea?"
    "You called my boyfriend 'Dancing Death,'" Dana said.
    Allie beamed. "Cool alliteration, right?"
    Dana narrowed her