Part 26 (1/2)

Shoes . . .

Sandals . . .

Strappy, red sandals . . .

KarmaGirl.

My inner voice whispered. I flashed back to my first meeting with Malefica. The ubervillain's long, red shoes tap-tap-tapped in front of my face.

”Nice sandals,” I croaked. ”Bulluci's fall collection?”

”Good eye,” Malefica said. ”Now get up. We have things to discuss.”

”Carmen? Carmen, are you okay?” Henry asked. ”You have a strange look on your face.”

”Bulluci's fall collection,” I whispered. ”Bulluci's fall collection!”

”Why are you babbling on about fas.h.i.+on designers at a time like this?” Fiona growled.

I ignored her, grabbed my Rubik's Cube, and twisted it round and round in my hand. There was something else, something important swimming around in the back of my mind. I thought back, concentrating on that meeting, trying to remember every detail, every single snippet of conversation . . .

”Would you like something to drink?” Malefica asked.

”No,” I said.

”Are you sure? It's Brighton's Best.”

And I remembered . . .

Malefica reclined in the leather chair behind the desk. She took a long pull on her drink then set it aside.

Unless I missed my guess, the gla.s.s was a Hil.u.s.tar tumbler.

”Brighton's Best. Hil.u.s.tar tumblers. Bulluci's fall collection. That's it! That's it! That's it!” I shouted.

The pieces clicked together in my mind like a jigsaw puzzle. I grabbed Fiona's hot hands and jumped up and down with glee.

”What are you going on about? Have you finally lost what little bit of sanity that you have?” Fiona yanked her hands away.

”No,” I said. ”But I've just figured out a way to find out who Malefica really is.”

KarmaGirl.

23.

”What are you talking about?” Fiona asked. ”You've been trying to uncover Malefica's real ident.i.ty for days now with no success.”

”That's because I was overlooking something. Henry, I need you to start hacking and see who's ordered red sandals from Bulluci's fall collection, Brighton's Best Scotch whiskey, and Hil.u.s.tar crystal tumblers in the last six months. And I need to know where everything was s.h.i.+pped.”

”But I-”

”Just do it, Henry. Trust me.”

Henry and Fiona exchanged oh-the-poor-girl-she's-finally-snapped looks. I paid them no attention.

Instead, I dug around on my desk until I found the list of the fifty richest men and women Henry had compiled for me so many weeks ago.

Ten minutes later, Henry handed me a stack of papers. ”There you go.”

I whipped out my blue highlighter and cross-referenced the names on the lists with the wealthiest women in Bigtime. Many of the names appeared on one or two of the lists. The upper crust of Bigtime certainly liked their whiskey, and in large quant.i.ties. The amount of hard liquor some of the more genteel widows packed away in a month shocked me. Several of them needed a ride to Alcoholics Anonymous. p.r.o.nto.

But there was only one woman who had special-ordered red sandals, whiskey, and crystal gla.s.ses in the last six months who was among the richest women in Bigtime.

Morgana Madison.

The name stunned me. Could it be? Could my boss, the owner of The Expose, really be one of the most feared ubervillains in the world? She always seemed to be somewhere else when the Triad struck. I shook my head. Seemed to be. That was the problem. Appearing at society functions and taking phone calls weren't iron-clad alibis. Phone logs could be altered, meetings could be rescheduled. During any event, Morgana could have gone off to powder her nose, slipped out of the bathroom, committed an hour's worth of crime, mischief, and mayhem, and slipped back in before anyone noticed she was missing. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to pull off. Not with Malefica's psychic powers. She could probably give someone a subtle mental command and make him think he'd seen her when he really hadn't. Or any number of other things to protect her secret ident.i.ty. Just like Chief Newman had done when he got me time off from work.

Fingers trembling, I went back through the lists and double-checked all the names. Morgana Madison. I triple-checked. Morgana.

I closed my eyes and pictured Morgana Madison and Malefica, putting the two of them side by side in my mind.

They were the same age, height, and weight. They had the same facial features and curvy figures. I thought back to the day in the newsroom when I'd exposed Tornado and the silent toast Morgana had given me. My inner voice whispered. All of a sudden I knew, I just knew Morgana was really Malefica.

”Morgana Madison is Malefica,” I whispered. ”Incredible.”

Henry looked up from his computer. ”What? What did you say?”

”Morgana Madison is Malefica. It's her. It is.”

Fiona arched an eyebrow. ”And you know this how?”

I held up the papers. ”From these. Listen. When Malefica kidnapped me, she was wearing a new pair of KarmaGirl.

Bulluci sandals.”

”So what? She has good taste. Bella Bulluci is a great designer. Even I'll admit that,” Fiona said.

”But that's not all. She took me to her office and drank Brighton's Best whiskey from a Hil.u.s.tar crystal tumbler. I didn't think anything of it at the time.”

”Those are pretty expensive items,” Henry said, picking up on my train of thought. ”Not a lot of people could afford one of them, let alone all three.”

”Exactly,” I beamed. ”Everyone knows how much ubervillains love to flaunt their wealth. I cross-referenced the names on the list Henry compiled for me of the richest men and women in Bigtime with people who had purchased these items in the last six months. Morgana Madison is the only name that's on all of the lists.”

Henry's fingers slid over the keyboard like he was playing a piano. ”Let me pull up some photos of the two of them.”

Seconds later, the three of us stared at pictures of Malefica that Henry had recorded at the park and a photo of Morgana Madison that had appeared in the society section of The Expose. Side by side, the resemblance was obvious.