Page 46 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“You don’t need to know it.” Cole left the table and headed for the lobby.

Lars joined him. “Did she give you any good information?”

“Yes, but nothing that points at Giuseppe Bianchi as the possible thief. It sounds like everyone would know if he used designs that didn’t belong to him.”

“After seeing what he’s planning to put on the runway this year, I would agree with that. He is unique, but not in a good way.”

“Let’s talk to the other exes.”

“Do you know where to find them?”

“Yes. Wife number three should be in the gym right about now. Her hotel is next door.”

“I doubt Bianchi is going to show up at a hotel that isn’t his.”

“I agree, but I’d like some warning if we’re wrong.”

“Act as a lookout,” Lars said. “Got it.”

“Thanks.” Cole put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “I’ll try to make this quick.”

“That would be appreciated. I’d like to get back to Marit’s rehearsal before too much of the day has passed.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Cole headed for the elevator. One ex-wife down. Two to go.

***

Isabelle slid into the taxi and wiggled her toes inside her canvas tennis shoes. “I never want to wear heels again.”

Marit gave the driver their address and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to put a pair on first thing tomorrow. We only have two more days of rehearsals before the first show.”

“I don’t know how you’re doing all this. Or how I ended up in six shows. This is insane.”

“What can I say? You’re a natural.”

Isabelle cast a look at Marit. “I think it’s more accurate to say you’re a good teacher.”

“If you didn’t have a look the designers wanted, it wouldn’t matter how many modeling lessons I gave you,” Marit said. “If Esmee has her way, this won’t be your only foray into modeling.”

“That’s sweet, but I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Isabelle glanced out the window at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, the lights already illuminated in the darkening sky. “I’m just glad Ralph’s show will be my last.”

“I only have two beyond that,” Marit said. “And neither of them starts rehearsals for a couple more days.”

Chanel and Dior had both cast Marit to walk in their shows, but those events wouldn’t occur until the last day of Fashion Week. By then, Isabelle hoped to have all thoughts of modeling and runway work behind her, despite Esmee’s hopes to the contrary.

“I don’t know how you’re going to do eight shows.”

“Well I plan to sleep for three days straight after this is over,” Marit said.

“I may do the same thing. I told my boss I was taking off until the Monday after Fashion Week is over.”

Marit straightened and shifted in her seat to face Isabelle. “I really can’t thank you enough for being here.”

“Aside from the aching feet and having Peter Wade barking orders at me, it’s been fun.”

“Peter Wade is not known for his patience.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” The cab pulled up to the curb a short distance past their building, and Isabelle pulled her wallet from her purse to pay the driver.

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