Page 10 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now, tell me everything.”

Marit drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure exactly where to start.”

“How about telling me why the police took you in.”

“Apparently, there was a theft.” Marit glanced at their driver and lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning close. “It was at one of the designers’ offices where I went yesterday for a fitting.”

“Did they think you were a witness? Or were you a suspect?”

“I’m not sure.”

“How long did you have to wait before they questioned you?”

“I don’t know. They took my phone, so I didn’t have a way to keep track of the time, but it was quite a while, at least several hours.”

“You were a suspect, then.”

“Me?” She lifted her hand to her chest.

Cole looked up at their driver before straightening. “You can tell me the rest of the story when we get to the restaurant.”

Ten minutes later, their driver pulled up at their destination. Cole paid the man in cash—no need to leave an electronic trail of his presence here—and opened the car door. He did a quick check of the street before he motioned for Marit to join him on the sidewalk.

Placing his arm protectively around Marit’s shoulders, he escorted her inside, where more than half the tables were still occupied, despite the late hour. He spoke to the hostess, made his standard apology for not speaking French, and requested a corner table along with an English menu.

Once they were settled at their table and they’d given their orders, Marit finished her account.

“It sounds like the man you saw in Ralph’s office is the person the police should be looking for.”

“I think so too,” Marit said. “It was either him or the custodian.” She paused. “Or the other people who were on the floor who I didn’t see. I heard voices, but I couldn’t tell where they were coming from.”

“Let’s start with the man you saw.” Cole pondered how quickly he could get this situation resolved so Marit would no longer be of interest to the police. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

“I have fittings starting at eight and a casting call in the afternoon.”

“We should call Ralph first thing in the morning to get his employee’s name,” Cole said. “I’ll track him down while you’re working.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“In the meantime, I’d rather you not be alone tonight. Do you have a couch I can sleep on?”

“I won’t be alone. I have a roommate.”

“Good. That will make it less awkward for me to stay at your place.”

“That won’t work,” Marit said. “Even if I wanted to, we aren’t allowed to have guests. Our building is for models only.”

“Then, I’ll pretend to be a model.”

Marit stifled a laugh. “Sorry, Cole. You might have the tall, blond, and handsome thing down, but you don’t walk or talk like a model.”

“How hard can it be?”

“First, you’d need to learn how to walk into a room without looking like you’re going to shoot someone.”

“I know how to do that. I go undercover all the time.”

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