Page 47 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“You don’t have to pay the driver. I can get that.”

“It’s fine. You paid the last time,” Isabelle said.

“Well, thank you.” Marit stepped from the cab and shifted her bag onto her shoulder.

Isabelle climbed out and barely closed the door before the taxi driver pulled away. She slid her wallet next to the gun she had concealed inside her purse. A shadow of movement caught her attention only a second before a man stepped in front of them, his face covered by a ski mask and a knife gripped in his hand.

Marit yelped in surprise. Isabelle took an instinctive step back and slid her hand into her purse, her fingers feeling for the rubber grip of her pistol.

“Give me your bags.” The man spoke in French and thrust the knife toward Marit.

Marit also had the good sense to step back. She held her hands out to the side. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Hand it over.” He reached his free hand out to take her purse.

Isabelle’s evaluation of their potential mugger took mere seconds. The solid grip on the knife, the steady hand reaching for Marit’s bag. This man wasn’t new to crime, and he was far too comfortable with a knife.

She also wasn’t buying the idea that Marit had been randomly targeted twice in one week.

Isabelle put her left hand on Marit’s shoulder to draw her farther from the mugger, then plunged her hand into her purse and got a firm grip on her gun. “Why us?”

“Just hand over your bags.” He waved the knife in front of them.

“I don’t think so.” Isabelle dropped her purse at the same time she pulled her gun and stepped in front of Marit. “Drop the knife.”

The mugger’s gaze lowered to the pistol, surprise flashing in his eyes. Then he turned and ran, darting into a nearby alley.

Isabelle lowered her weapon and glanced behind her at Marit. “Are you okay?”

Marit shook her head. “Not really.”

“Come on. Let’s get inside.” Isabelle engaged the safety and slid her gun back into her bag. “We need to call the guys and let them know what happened.”

“Twice in one week,” Marit said, her words echoing Isabelle’s thoughts. “Why me?”

“I don’t know, but it’s time we start those self-defense lessons we talked about.” Isabelle opened the door and waited for Marit to walk inside ahead of her. “It will be my thank-you for teaching me how to model.”

Marit held up her trembling hand. “I need to stop shaking first.”

“With what I’m going to teach you, it won’t matter if you’re shaking or not.” Isabelle headed for the lift. “Trust me.”

Chapter 16

Marit was still trembling whenshe and Isabelle reached the flat. Allowing Isabelle to unlock the door and go inside ahead of her, Marit attempted to get a grip on her emotions. She didn’t want to think that she was being targeted, but two muggings in less than a week made it difficult to believe otherwise. And that realization was terrifying.

“It’s all clear,” Isabelle called. “Come on in.”

Marit walked into the living room and dropped her purse on the sofa. “These attacks are happening because of my supposed involvement in the robbery, aren’t they?”

“Probably,” Isabelle said, not bothering to hide her concern. “Everything started happening after Ralph’s designs were stolen.” She paced across the kitchen floor. “Your flat and James’s room were ransacked. The thief was looking for something. James was killed in the process, but we don’t know if he gave the thief what he wanted.” She paused. “If he didn’t, they may still think you have it.”

“Havewhat?” Marit asked.

“I wish I knew.” She began pacing again. “What exactly did Cole say the culprit stole from Ralph’s safe?”

“The muslin patterns and a jump drive.”

Isabelle stopped midstride. Pivoting, she crossed the distance between them in a few short steps. “The jump drive,” she said. “It has to be.” She picked up Marit’s purse. “How would you feel about me dumping this?”

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