Page 4 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“Sounds good. Thanks.” Disconnecting the call, she set her phone on the counter next to her purse and crossed the short distance to the door. She pulled it open. Two uniformed police officers stood outside. “Bonsoir,” she said, automatically switching to French.

“Marit Jansen?” the taller of the two men asked.

“Yes.” Marit’s grasp on the doorknob tightened. How did they know her name? More to the point,whydid they know her name?

“My name is Capitaine Dupont.” He gestured toward his colleague. “This is Brigadier Blanchet. We’re conducting an official investigation of a recent incident and believe you can help shed some light on it for us.”

Marit’s thoughts immediately flew to her involvement in helping to apprehend drug smugglers in Amsterdam almost two months before. But there could not possibly be a connection between that episode and these officers. Cole had assured Isabelle, Lars, and her that the authorities had the final phase of that investigation well in hand. Besides, even if they’d discovered another loose thread, why would the local French police be involved?

“I doubt that I can be of any help to you,” she said. “I don’t even know what you’re investigating.”

Capitaine Dupont inclined his head as though conceding the point. “That can be remedied. If you will come with us, we shall go over things in more detail at the police station.”

Marit stared at them, the first hint of fear stealing into her heart. “You want me to come with you now? For questioning?”

“Yes, mademoiselle.”

She looked from the capitaine’s stern expression to the brigadier’s. Neither gave anything away. Her fingers ached from their grip on the doorknob, a sure sign that she was not dreaming. “What’s this all about?”

“As I said, mademoiselle, we shall discuss it further at the station.”

Marit battled her racing thoughts. What was she to do? She had no experience with police interrogations. She didn’t even know her legal rights in France. Would they let her call someone? Or at least text Esmee or Nadia before forcing her to go with them?

“I must let someone know where I’m going,” she said. “My friends will worry about me if I’m gone for long.”

“One phone call,” Capitaine Dupont said. “I see you already have your coat on. If you wish to bring your handbag, you may do that. You’ll need nothing more.”

Attempting to think through the fog of shock, Marit backed into the room. The police officers stayed in the doorway, watching. She slipped the handles of her bag over her shoulder and reached for her phone. Who should she call?

Realistically, it was doubtful that Esmee would miss her until tomorrow. Her agent would only start panicking if Marit didn’t show up for her final fitting with Kyle Adams. Nadia would probably assume that she was out with others this evening and would think nothing of going to bed before Marit arrived back. Lars was too far away to do anything but worry if she told him what she was facing. The same could be said for her parents. Her fingers hovered over the names in her favorites list. As far as she knew, there was only one person who might have the contacts and experience necessary to help her out of this situation.

She pressed Cole’s number and put the phone to her ear. “Please pick up, Cole,” she whispered. “Please pick up.”

The phone rang five times before rolling into Cole’s voice mail. Swallowing her disappointment, she turned her back on the police officers and spoke into the phone in English.

“Cole, this is Marit. I’m in Paris for Fashion Week, staying in an agency flat on Place de la Madeleine. Two police officers just arrived at my door and claim they need to take me in for questioning. I have no idea what it’s about, but the vibe they’re giving off tells me it’s serious. I don’t know if they’ll let me make a phone call once I’m at the police station, but if you get this message soon, I could use your advice.”

“It’s time to go, mademoiselle.” Capitaine Dupont’s tone barely hid his impatience.

Marit disconnected her call and tucked her phone into her pocket. Grabbing her flat keys from the counter, she walked to the door. She may not know what this was about, but she knew she had nothing to hide. Her trembling fingers notwithstanding, that fact alone was enough to keep her chin up. “All right,” she said. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 3

Cole stepped aboard the trainthat would take him on his first leg to Vienna, a duffel bag in one hand and his backpack in the other. Though he wasn’t thrilled with the two transfers and the twelve hours it would take him to get home, it beat trying to cut through the red tape required for him to transport his firearms through airport security. After so many years living in Europe, Cole was well versed in how to bypass that problem at the local train stations.

Cole made his way to his seat and settled his backpack beneath the chair in front of him. No way was he letting his extra ammo out of his sight.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket to see who had called when he’d been boarding the train. A voice mail from Marit? Why would she be calling him? Probably trying to plan a surprise for Lars’s birthday.

Curious, Cole hit the Play button and lifted the phone to his ear. Marit’s voice trembled when she explained that the police were taking her in for questioning. That couldn’t be right.

Cole played the message again. He shook his head. Whether he wanted to or not, it looked like he was making an unexpected detour through Paris.

Grateful that the train hadn’t left yet, he gathered his bags, left the train, and pulled up the Omio app on his phone. After a quick search of train options from Brussels to Paris, he bought a new ticket. Too bad he hadn’t gotten her message a little sooner. If he had, he might have made the train that had departed only three minutes ago. As it was, he’d have to wait another half hour for the next one.

He looked up the platform number and headed for his ride. What in the world had Marit gotten herself involved in?

Bypassing a family of five who were blocking the majority of the platform, he dialed Marit’s number, not surprised when the call went unanswered. Most likely, the police had already taken possession of her phone. With Marit not answering, he dialed Lars. He also didn’t answer.

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