Undercover in High Heels by Gemma Halliday Read Free Book Online

occasions—to use words like Bennifer , Brangelina , and TomKat . I know. It’s a disease.
    Still, I wasn’t convinced our knowledge of Mia’s latest boy-toy fling could really outweigh a badge and a gun.
    “How much could we possibly do without even being on the set of the show?” I reasoned.
    Dana waved me off, switching from the hops to a little footwork-in-place thing. “So, we get on the set. How hard can that be? Look, I’ll call my agent in the morning and see if he can get me on as an extra or something. And maybe you could see if they need acostume designer or a wardrobe assistant? I’m sure you’ve got some connections, right?”
    I bit my lip. “Well, my college roommate did do wardrobe for that cop drama on FX.”
    “Perfect! I bet she totally knows someone. Ohmigod, this is going to be so fun. We’ll, like, totally be undercover again!”
    Dana was referring, of course, to last year, when, against my better judgment, I’d let her dress me as a hooker in order to suss out a murder. Unfortunately, that evening had ended in a dead body. Not an experience I was eager to repeat.
    “I don’t know…” I trailed off, picturing Ramirez’s face that afternoon. I had a feeling that if I showed up within ten feet of his assignment he’d likely pop a blood vessel. The words as far away from me as possible echoed in my head.
    Dana started jogging in place, bobbing her knees up and down like little pistons. “Come on, Maddie! We could so do this. You’ve got a good track record, girl!”
    I hesitated to mention that both times I’d ferreted out a killer in the past it was more by accident than sheer brilliance.
    On the other hand, this whole “reassignment” thing was all my fault. And sitting on my futon watching Magnolia Lane reruns wasn’t doing anything to improve my rapidly crumbling love life. If I were going to make it up to Ramirez, I had to do something . “All right, I’ll call my college roomie.”
    Dana let out a high-pitched squeal and clapped her hands.
    “I said I’d call. No guarantees, ” I hedged, grabbing my address book. I wasn’t sure if I’d put her number under L for Lana, P for Paulson, or R for roommate.
    “I think we should start by talking to her costars, ” Dana said, ticking items off on her fingers. “See if anyone has seen a suspicious character around. Second, maybe we should question Mia herself. Maybe the stalker is someone from her past, and he’s coming back to seek revenge. Oooh—or maybe she had a secret love child who’s coming back to haunt her now.”
    I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Suspicious characters? Revenge? Secret love child? What was this, Montel ?
    Fortunately, before I could change my mind, I found Lana’s number (under C for college) and dialed. She picked up on the first ring.
    “Hello?”
    “Hi, Lana. It’s Maddie, ” I said, with a backward glance at Dana. She was still ticking off possible stalker suspects. I think I heard her mumble something about a political plot to rig the Emmys. I scrunched my eyes shut, hoping I wouldn’t live to regret this.
    “Say, I was wondering if you know anyone at Sunset Studios?”

Chapter 4
    “This is where we keep Kylie’s clothes, ” Dusty said, gesturing toward a long wardrobe rack of designer suits and blouses.
    Dusty was a fresh-faced twenty-two-year-old, just out of design school, with short purple hair and pierced studs in her nose, eyebrow, and lip. Last season when the head wardrobe consultant for Magnolia Lane quit over a SAG Award snub, Dusty landed the job because her best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s mother played canasta with the producer’s aunt. Hollywood was the original who-you-know town. Thanks to the call to my college roomie, four short days later and I now knew Dusty.
    “Kylie plays Tina Rey on the show, ” Dusty continued. “Blake, Ricky, and Deveroux have their stuff over there.” She gestured to the far end of the room, where menswear hung on two rows of