Page 48 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

Marit met her eyes, a pit opening in her stomach. “If you don’t, I will.”

It was all the invitation Isabelle needed. She tipped Marit’s purse over the sofa. Marit’s phone and wallet landed on the cushion first. A cascade of smaller items rained down on top of them.

“Is there anything you don’t recognize?” Isabelle asked, lowering the empty purse to the floor again.

“Yes.” The feeling in Marit’s stomach went from gaping emptiness to churning nausea. She reached for the black jump drive sitting on top of a package of tissues. “This isn’t mine.”

“Your purse was with you when the thief came to the flat,” Isabelle said. “Somehow, he guessed the jump drive was in it.”

“How?” Marit’s hands were trembling again. She set the jump drive on the nearby coffee table and backed away from it. “Ididn’t even know it was there.”

“James must have been more quick-fingered than we gave him credit for.” Isabelle pulled her phone from her purse. “We need to tell the guys about this, and I think we’d better watch the surveillance video of you and James at Ralph’s office again. We may not understand why James passed the jump drive off to you, but now that we know what we’re looking for, we might catch something everyone missed before.”

Isabelle put her phone on speaker, and the sound of ringing filled the room.

“Hey,” Cole said, answering on the third ring. “Does this mean you and Marit are back at the flat?”

“Yes,” Isabelle said. “We took a taxi, like you suggested, but there was a bit of an incident when we got here.”

In an instant, Cole’s tone switched from friendly to concerned. “What kind of incident?”

Marit sat down, the items that had been in her purse rolling haphazardly across the cushion. She didn’t want to relive the moment the masked man had waved a knife at her, but she was going to have to. Probably more than once. Isabelle glanced at her.

Marit swallowed. “You tell him.”

“Marit?” Cole must have heard her. “What’s going on?”

Isabelle took a breath. “Some guy went after Marit again. This time with a knife. He wanted her purse, but he ran off when I pulled my gun. After we got into the flat, we started wondering why Marit’s purse was the target of both attacks. We dumped it out and found a jump drive in it that isn’t hers.”

Cole muttered something under his breath. “We’ll be right over,” he said.

“You’re not allowed in, remember?”

“That hasn’t stopped me before. And once Lars hears what’s happened, there’ll be no keeping him out either.”

Marit pressed her unsteady hands together. Maybe if she pretended she was okay, she’d feel more like it. “You don’t need to do that, Cole,” she said. “We can come to you.”

“We’re not going to let some thug stop us from living our lives,” Isabelle added. “But I think it would be a good idea to modify our plans. Instead of going out to dinner, would you be okay picking something up? You can text me when you’re back at your hotel, and we’ll join you there.”

Food was the last thing Marit wanted right now, but even in her upended state, she acknowledged that the others needed to eat.

“Lars and I can definitely take care of dinner,” Cole said, confirming Marit’s thoughts. “And I’ll text you when we’re back. But I don’t want you walking over here alone. Especially if you’re planning on bringing the flash drive with you. We’ll meet you outside your building’s front doors.”

“That would be great,” Isabelle said. “Thanks.”

“I’ll be in touch soon,” he said. And then he disconnected the call.

Isabelle lowered her phone and gave Marit an understanding look. “I know you’re feeling pretty shaky right now, but you know what will make you feel better, right?”

“Having Lars hold me for a while,” Marit guessed.

Isabelle smiled. “That’ll probably go a long way toward helping, but so will your first self-defense lesson.” She reached for her hand and pulled her off the sofa. “Come on. We probably have thirty minutes before the guys get back. You can learn several moves in that amount of time. And if you pick them up as quickly as I think you will, you can go to bed tonight knowing that you’ll get the best of the next guy who threatens you.”

***

The image of Isabelle facing down a man with a knife wouldn’t leave Cole’s head. And poor Marit. A purse snatcher was bad enough, but no one should have to face an armed mugger. At least Isabelle had gone through training with the CIA to learn how to deal with such situations. Not that Marit and Lars knew that.

Cole strode down the sidewalk, a takeaway bag from a local cafégripped in one hand. “I never should have let Isabelle and Marit take a taxi on their own.”

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