Page 19 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

Cole grinned. “Closer than Amsterdam.”

Lars offered him a grateful nod. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime. I didn’t do much more than make sure she ate and walk her to the hotel.”

“I saw the photos of you walking her back.” Lifting his phone so Cole could see the screen, Lars pulled up the screenshot he’d taken.

Cole frowned. “Where was this posted?”

“OnLe Monde’s website.”

His cousin muttered something under his breath, and then he pulled out Isabelle’s chair. “Let’s all sit down,” he said. “We’ve got some things we need to talk about.”

***

Isabelle passed her menu to the waitress, a sense of déjàvu washing over her. Although she and Marit spoke often on the phone, she and Cole hadn’t seen Marit and Lars since spending a few days together at Falcon Point in early January. And though Isabelle had a few colleagues at the bank who she was close to, Marit was the only real friend she had here in Europe.

“I really wish we didn’t live so far apart,” she said.

“Me too,” Marit said. “And I wish we had a better reason to get together than me getting questioned by the police.”

And her room getting ransacked.Cole had filled Isabelle in when she’d met him at his hotel. This quick weekend getaway was feeling much more like a protection detail than a vacation, right down to the motion sensors and security cameras tucked into the bottom of her suitcase.

As though sharing her thoughts, Lars said, “Hey, at least we haven’t had to deal with any guns being pointed at us.” He shuddered. “I still have nightmares from the last time you were in Amsterdam.”

“I still have nightmares from when Beckett found out we borrowed his skis,” Cole muttered.

Isabelle stifled a laugh. She didn’t know all the particulars of how Cole had ended up using Beckett’s brand-new skis at Falcon Point or how they had ended up in Lars’s room afterward, but Beckett had chewed Lars out for a good twenty minutes before Anna had come to his rescue.

Lars shook his head. “How did you make him think it was me?”

Cole shrugged. “Sorry, cuz. Some secrets I can’t share.”

“This isn’t exactly espionage we’re talking about.”

Isabelle glanced at Cole. No, they might not be working as spies right now, but Cole clearly wasn’t taking any chances. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have a gun holstered at his back and another at his ankle.

“What can you tell us about last night?” Isabelle asked, changing the subject.

Marit relayed her story, beginning with when the police had shown up and ending with when they had questioned her.

Lars put his hand on her back, love and concern shining in his eyes.

Envy shot through Isabelle, quick and fierce, and she fought against it. She loved Cole. She loved her relationship with him, but sometimes she wished to move beyond where they were now, to move into a relationship that included the absolute adoration that was nearly tangible between Lars and Marit.

Marit continued her account, breaking Isabelle out of her thoughts. “They never told me what was stolen, but someone must have seen me around the time the theft occurred.”

“It was the custodian,” Cole said.

Marit’s eyebrows lifted. “Did you talk to Ralph this morning?”

“Yeah. It was definitely an inside job.”

“How do you know that?” Marit asked.

“First of all, it’s a double-safe system. With the right tools, a pro could probably break through it within an hour or two, but the security cameras didn’t show anyone entering Ralph’s office after you left, except the custodian, and he was only in the room for seventeen seconds.”

“Probably just long enough to empty the trash,” Isabelle said.

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