Page 24 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“Any chance we can get a room facing away from the Eiffel Tower, preferably on an upper floor?” Cole glanced at Lars. “With two beds?”

Though surprise crossed the desk clerk’s face, he simply tapped a few more keys. “I will need a credit card and your IDs please.”

Lars and Cole handed over their passports, and Lars gave the clerk his credit card.

After the clerk went through the typical ritual of checking them in, he handed them their passports back along with their key cards. “You’re on the sixth floor. The lift is behind you to the left.”

Cole pocketed his passport and grabbed the keys. “Thank you.”

They found the elevator, one of those old-fashioned ones barely big enough for the two of them with their luggage.

Cole led the way inside and hit the button for the sixth floor. “Let me know how much the room is, and I’ll split it with you.”

“My work is paying for the days that I had to be here anyway. We can just split the extra days,” Lars said. “What’s the plan once we drop off our bags?”

“I need to shake some intel loose,” Cole said. “I want to know what the police have on the victim and the crime scene.”

The doors slid open on the sixth floor, and they made their way to their room.

Lars unlocked the door and stepped inside. Two twin beds were pushed into the center of the room, only a foot of space between them. A table for two was nestled beneath the tall window on the far side of the room, with barely enough room to pull out the chairs.

“This is cozy.” Lars slid his duffel and his equipment case to the side of the bed nearest the bathroom.

“It’ll do.” Cole closed the door behind him and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed his boss’s number.

Jasmine answered on the third ring, her Southern accent carrying in her words. “I was wondering when I was going to hear from you. Is everything okay with Marit?”

The fact that Jasmine knew Marit’s name was a reminder that his personal and professional lives had crossed far too often when Lars and Marit were around. “I’m not sure. The man she ID’d at the site of the theft turned up dead today. Think you can shake loose the police report for me?”

“Name?”

“Brinton James,” Cole said. “While you’re at it, maybe you can get the report from the theft too. I’d like to know if this guy was involved or if he was a witness.”

“Let’s hope it’s the first scenario.”

The one where Marit wasn’t next on a kill list. “Oh, I am.”

“I’ll put the request in, but you know how the locals can get when we try to interfere,” Jasmine said. “Marit isn’t a US citizen, so we don’t have any real reason to be involved.”

“I know. That’s why I’m hoping you can also run the guy’s last known address for me.”

“That’s easy enough. I’ll pull it up and text it to you.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“You can thank me by staying out of trouble.”

“I can do that.”

“I’ll pretend like I believe you.” Jasmine laughed. “Any idea how long you’ll need to stay in Paris?”

“Worst case, through the end of Fashion Week,” Cole said. “Marit has Isabelle going on some casting calls with her. Looks like she may get roped into working some shows.”

“Isabelle modeling?” Jasmine asked with a little too much enthusiasm. “Oh, you have to take pictures.”

“I’ll pass that job off to Lars. It’s his thing.”

“Good idea,” Jasmine agreed easily. “I’ll forward those police reports as soon as I get them.”

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