"Oh, Mom, you're a genius. God bless Faux Dad's pedicures."
"Mmmm, mmm," Mrs. R said, jutting her chin toward me.
She and Mom rotated places, and I did a repeat performance of Mom's acrobatics, slipping off my red heel and running my toe along the side of Mrs. R's cheek until a tiny corner of tape came loose.
"My God, I think that's the longest time I've ever gone without speaking," she said, finally wiggling it off on the strap of her muumuu.
I was almost sure of it.
"Mom, what happened? How did you two get in here?"
"It was Charlene," Mom said, even though I'd suspected as much. "Maddie, she was the one working with Gisella. And I think she killed her."
At the moment, I had to agree.
"How did you get here?" I asked. "How long have you been here?"
"Well, after we saw the printouts you left us on that Corbett Winston theft, we thought we'd go check it out. At first no one there wanted to talk to us," Mom said.
"And then your mother got this brilliant idea that we'd pretend we was with the FBI. We told 'em that we was looking into a ring of international jewel thieves."
I rolled my eyes. "And they bought that?"
Mrs. R shrugged.
"Anyway," Mom continued, "finally the manager of Corbett Winston spoke with us and when we asked about Gisella, he said that she'd come in with a companion. A woman Gisella had introduced as her manager."
"Only we hadn't heard of Gisella having any manager," Mrs. R said.
"So, we asked the guy to describe the woman and he told us about this blonde British woman."
"So, we figured that Felix guy was British, maybe he'd have some idea who she was. We came back to the hotel to talk to him."
"Only Pierre rang his room and he wasn't in," Mom said.
"But his Auntie was."
"So we came up to her room and told her what we'd found and that we were hoping Felix could help us figure out who this lady was."
"She ordered tea from room service and we all sat down to wait it out for Felix," Mrs. Rosenblatt said.
"Only she must have slipped something into it when we weren't looking because the next thing I knew the room was doing a shimmy in front of me and we woke up like this."
"When was this?" I asked.
Mom shook her head. "Yesterday, the day before. It's all a little fuzzy. She keeps giving us tea."
"I've decided I hate tea," Mrs. R said.
I didn't blame her.
"We tried to call you a couple of times, Maddie."
"But that was before your mom got her tape off."
"You just kept saying, 'hello?'"
Mental forehead smack. Well, I guess that tells you not to call me in a crisis.
"How long has she been gone?" I asked, staring at the closed door. The matching luggage next to it made me nervous. Charlene had had two middle aged women hostage for over 48 hours. She wasn't likely to just let them go home to identify her to the police. Charlene had already killed two women. What were a few more?
"I don't know," Mom said. "Maybe half an hour."
I bit my lip. Then, remembering how Angelica had said the walls of the hotel were thin, cried out, "Help!" as loudly as the metal drummer in my head would allow me.
Mom and Mrs. R followed suit, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Fifteen minutes later we were still alone and our voices were hoarse. It was no use. Everyone was either at the shows or had taken our cries for a bad police drama on the television.
I tried a different tactic, leaning down and biting at the length of tape around my arms. Which didn't do much. It was amazingly strong. There was a reason that lazy dads the world over used this stuff to fix anything and everything. It held. I continued gnawing at it as Mom and Mrs. R did the same.
Apparently Mrs. R's teeth were pointier than mine as I finally heard a rip from her direction and her arms flapped free. She didn't waste any time, quickly ripping at first Mom's bonds, then mine. A few seconds later we were all jumping off the bed, lengths of duct tape stuck to us at comical angles, making for the door.
But of course, nothing is ever that easy.
Just as we reached it, it swung open.
The three of us froze, our eyes ping-ponging between the figure in the doorway and the three of us. On any other day, we might have charged her and probably made it. Unfortunately on this particular day she held a shiny silver gun in her hand.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but she shoved the gun in my direction. "Shut up."
Apparently it was a rhetorical question.
Charlene edged into the room, letting the door fall shut behind her. "The maid said she heard the television on in my room. Couldn't have been you loudmouths, could it?" she asked.
This time I kept my mouth shut. Definitely rhetorical.
As she moved into the room, her cool blue silk pantsuit perfectly matched her pale blue eyes, giving her an icy edge. Granted, the fact that she'd drugged me then tied me up might have colored that assessment just a little.
"You two," she said, waving the gun at Mom and Mrs. Rosenblatt. "Into the bathroom."
Mom looked at me. I did a slight shrug. Since she had the gun and we didn't, I didn't think we were really in a place to argue.
Mom slowly moved to the right, inching into the bathroom, her hands up in a surrender motion. Mrs. R followed, waddling awkwardly through the tiny doorway.
"Maddie?" Mom said tentatively.
"I'll be okay," I said with a false assurance I certainly didn't feel. Especially when Charlene shut the door behind them, barricading it with a chair underneath.
"I guess it's just you and me now," she said, a slow smile spreading across her features.
Oh boy.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me," she said advancing on me.
"I do?" Instinctively, I took a step back.
"The camera. Hand it over."
"You know, technically, it doesn't actually belong to you, it belongs to Gisella. Who is dead, but I guess you'd know that because you killed her. But really, I think the camera is the rightful property of her heirs. So, unless you're in her will-"
"Shut up!" She pointed the gun at my nose.
I shut up.
"Felix was right. You do have a big mouth."
Hey! "Felix said that about me?"
She barked out a short laugh. "Of course not. The man worships the ground you walk on."
"He does not," I protested.
"Oh, yes he does. Maddie this, Maddie that, you're all he talks about. It's disgusting."
I paused. "So… he's not working with you?"
He scoffed. "Felix? Please. You think he'd be man enough to follow through with something like this?"
Hey! Felix may be many things, but he wasn't a chicken. But, instead I said, "But the water. He handed it to me."
She grinned. "I asked him to. Said you looked a little flushed. Heaven forbid his Maddie should be dehydrated."
"His Maddie?" My cheeks flooded with heat.
"Oh, don't be flattered. Felix has the brain of a fruit fly."
"Hey!"
She scowled at me.
Oops, I'd said that one out loud.
She narrowed her pale eyes at me. "I have had to deal with that man's bullshit my whole life. I've sat by as he was handed everything that I had to struggle for. Do you know what it's like being the adopted child of the trophy wife? After dear old Dad died, Felix got everything, the title, the land, the money. And what did I get? Nothing. He never had to work a day in his life. All the while I had to grow up dirt poor going to visit my titled relations in the castle that should have been mine. Felix doesn't even like England! Running off to L.A. to live in the land of bimbos and write for that silly paper."
She was getting so worked up an unattractive glob of spittle was forming at the corners of her mouth, reminding me of a rabid dog. I cringed, involuntarily ducking to avoiding being the victim of an over annunciated "P".