Page 50 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“I guess that’s one way to look for a silver lining.” Cole set his laptop on the bed and plugged the flash drive into it. “I don’t recognize this file type.”

“May I see?” Marit stood.

Cole angled the laptop toward her.

“Those are design files. You’d need the correct program to open them.”

“I don’t need to open them.” Cole copied the files to his laptop before he unplugged the flash drive. “If that’s what is on this, the likelihood is that this is what was stolen from Ralph. All we have to do is return it to him and notify the police that it was recovered.” Relieved, he held the flash drive up. “As soon as we do that, this will finally be over.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” Marit sat back down. “As long as the muslin patterns remain out there, someone else can still copy Ralph’s designs.”

“But wouldn’t the file prove that they’re his?” Isabelle asked.

“It would help his case, but if he tries to showcase his line after someone else features the same designs in an earlier show, the public will assume Ralph is the copycat. Even if the models who tried on his clothes during rehearsals back him up, the damage to Ralph’s image will be done.”

Lars shook his head. “That’s so unfair.”

Isabelle opened one of the takeout bags and began setting out their food. “Did you find out anything new today?”

“We talked to Bianchi’s ex-wives.” Cole retrieved a water bottle from one of the bags and twisted the top off. “They all said basically the same thing: Bianchi has his own style.”

“They’re not wrong,” Marit muttered.

Cole grimaced. “His exes still wear his clothes. They also insist that it would be obvious if he made a change to a more conservative approach and that Bianchi would never make that kind of switch.”

Marit pushed her meal away, and Cole did not miss the slight tremble in her fingers. Still too shaken to eat. It wasn’t surprising, but the realization did nothing to assuage his frustration that someone had gotten that close to her again.

“So, you don’t think he’s the one behind the theft?” Marit asked.

“No.”

“I was kind of hoping he was guilty,” Isabelle said. “Is that bad?”

“That’s honest.” Cole closed his laptop and secured both it and the flash drive in the hotel safe. He returned to sit beside Isabelle on the bed, noting that neither she nor Lars was eating either.

“Who do we focus on next?” Marit asked. “We’re running out of time.”

“We’ll keep working our way through the designers based on who has shows first,” Cole said.

“And we’ll keep watching for anything suspicious,” Isabelle said.

“Maybe I should spend some more time at your rehearsals.” Lars’s arm was still firmly around Marit. “The access badge Coster gave me is a press pass, so that will get me into most places.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Cole said. “I have a few things to take care of, and I’ll feel better if Isabelle and Marit aren’t alone.”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “You know I can handle myself, right?”

Cole held up his free hand. “I never said you couldn’t, but there’s safety in numbers.” He nodded toward the safe. “Even after we give the flash drive back to Ralph, the thief won’t know Marit doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Which is why I gave her a few self-defense pointers,” Isabelle said.

Cole wasn’t sure what to say to that. Self-defense classes were great, but often, the best defense was avoiding a bad situation in the first place. And having someone who gained a false sense of confidence after learning a few moves was never a good thing. He rose to his feet. “Okay, Marit. Show me what you’ve got.”

Marit looked at Cole uncertainly.

“Go ahead,” Isabelle said. “It will be good to see how you do against someone Cole’s size.”

“Or I can just make sure I’m always with you or Cole, assuming the two of you keep carrying guns.”

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