Page 44 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“Where are we going?” Lars asked.

“To see Giuseppe Bianchi’s ex-wives,” Cole said. “I need you to be my lookout.”

“Why are we visiting Bianchi’s ex-wives?” Lars asked skeptically.

“Because there isn’t anyone better to dish dirt than a former spouse or significant other.”

“Sometimes, I really worry about how you know this kind of stuff.” Lars narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t Bianchi Italian?”

“Yeah.” Cole lifted his hand to flag down a cab.

“If you tell me we’re flying to Rome, I’m going to have to put my foot down.”

“Relax. We only have to go down the block. Three of his four ex-wives are here for Fashion Week.”

“They’re staying in the same place?”

“One is at the same place Bianchi always stays at. Apparently, ex number two’s family is a part-owner of the hotel.” Cole waited until a taxi stopped in front of them, and he climbed inside.

Lars took the seat beside him. “Don’t you think that’s a bit weird, an ex-wife staying at the same place as the ex-husband?”

“Very weird.” Cole gave their destination to the driver before turning his attention back to Lars.

“Where are the other ex-wives staying?”

“They’re both at hotels on the same block as Bianchi and ex number two.”

“And the weirdness continues.” Lars shook his head. “What makes you think they’ll talk to you?”

“Because they’re going to think I can help them.” Cole didn’t particularly look forward to deceiving the three women, but he needed information, and he needed to identify the person behind the theft of Molenaar’s designs before the thief had a chance to pass them off as his or her own. Based on what he had witnessed at the party last night and in Bianchi’s bank accounts, the Italian designer topped his list of potential suspects.

“What exactly do you want me to do while you’re interrogating the ex-wives?” Lars asked.

“Just make sure Bianchi doesn’t show up.”

“Sounds like I’m getting the easy job,” Lars said. “I doubt these women are going to lay out all of Bianchi’s secrets for a complete stranger.”

“I won’t be a complete stranger,” Cole said. “I’ll be posing as a private investigator.”

“If these women are suing Bianchi, they’ve probably already hired private investigators.”

“I know, but I doubt the other PIs know where Bianchi is hiding his money.”

“And you do?”

“Oh yeah.” Thanks to a contact at CIA headquarters.

The drive to the hotel took five minutes. When they arrived, Cole led the way inside. They had to go only as far as the hotel restaurant to find Viviana Bianchi, ex-wife number two. The dark-haired beauty sat at a table in the center of the room, a waiter standing a short distance away, as though prepared to cater to her every need. Viviana appeared to be a few years older than Cole, maybe early thirties, but if her physique was any indication, she worked out regularly to fight any outward appearance of aging. Her short skirt and fitted top suggested that she shared her ex-husband’s taste in fashion.

“There’s one of them.” Cole nodded in Viviana’s direction.

“How did you know she would be here?”

“Because her hotel bill for the last three days showed her eating here at this time.” Cole glanced at the nearly empty lobby. “Keep an eye out for Bianchi. Call me if he shows up.”

“You got it.” Lars headed for a nearby seating area and lowered himself into a plush chair facing the door.

As soon as Lars was settled, Cole crossed to the woman’s table. “Viviana Bianchi?”

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