Page 13 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“What happened? Is Marit okay?” she asked the second she answered the call.

“She’s fine,” Cole said. An elevator chimed in the background.

Relieved that everyone was safe, Isabelle asked, “Where are you?”

“I just checked into my hotel.”

Padded footsteps carried over the line, followed by the beep of an electronic keypad opening. Isabelle waited until the click of a door closing sounded before she pressed Cole for details. “Why did the police take her in?”

“She was a suspect in a robbery. We aren’t sure what was taken, but the theft happened around the time she left the offices of a designer who is here for Fashion Week.”

“Have the police cleared Marit?”

“They didn’t have enough evidence to hold her, but I don’t think she’s off their list yet,” Cole said. “From what she told me, I think she may have seen the culprit.”

“That’s scary.”

“Yeah. I’m not thrilled that I can’t crash on her couch to make sure no one comes looking for her.”

Isabelle shook her head as a smile started to form. Cole had no clue how that might look to anyone outside their close circle of friends. “I doubt her agent would be thrilled with that arrangement.”

“Apparently, her building won’t let it happen anyway. All the flats there are for models.” Cole sighed. “Marit doesn’t think I could pass for one.”

Isabelle’s smile broke free, but she managed to cover her quick burst of laughter with a cough. “If her building is that strict, I’m sure they have security in place.”

“A concierge with a security vest at the front door isn’t my idea of tight security,” Cole said. “That’s why I convinced her to stay at my hotel tonight, until I can check out her flat for myself.”

“Not many places would live up to your standards,” Isabelle said dryly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it home tonight,” Cole said, changing the subject. “I really did try.”

“It’s okay,” Isabelle said, though she couldn’t deny her disappointment. “Any idea how long you’re going to be in Paris?”

“No. I told Marit I’ll meet her in the morning to escort her back to her flat and then to her fitting. I’m also hoping to meet up with the designer to see if I can shake any new details loose.”

“You realize you don’t have any jurisdiction in Paris, right?”

“Not technically, but I have an ID with me that will give me access,” Cole said. “I want to stay in Paris until the police have the real thief in custody, and the sooner that’s taken care of, the better.”

“If Marit already pointed a finger at a new suspect, that could happen by tomorrow.” Isabelle walked back to her laptop and glanced at the calendar displayed on the screen. “You know, I could grab a flight tomorrow, and we could spend a few days in Paris.”

“What? Like a vacation?” Cole asked.

“Yeah. We could try to catch Marit at one of her shows, maybe see the sights.” Isabelle sat at the table and looked at her calendar again. She could definitely pull a long weekend away from work. With the amount of leave she had saved up, she might even be able to manage to stay for all of Fashion Week. “What do you think?”

Silence hummed over the line for several seconds. Isabelle drew her eyebrows together. Did he have another mission pending that he hadn’t told her about?

“Cole?”

“There’s a direct flight that leaves at eight tomorrow morning. Will that work?”

Both relieved and delighted, Isabelle nodded to the empty room. “That sounds perfect.”

“Great. Marit and Lars are meeting at ten thirty for a late breakfast/early lunch. I’ll text you the address. We can all meet there,” Cole said. “Or better yet, I’ll text you the address of my hotel. You can leave your luggage in my room until we get you your own.”

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.”

“I can’t wait.”

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