Page 65 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

“That’s not a bad idea, but we really need to catch our thief in the act,” Cole said. He focused once more on Gardien Chalamet. “Any chance you can get us a couple of backstage passes?”

Gardien Chalamet seemed to ponder the possibilities. Finally, he shook his head. “I doubt it. Not without tipping someone off about why we want them.” He lowered his voice a fraction. “Your best bet for that may be to use your embassy resources.”

Or Agency resources. The French policeman had no idea what Cole’s contacts were capable of doing. And the fact that Isabelle had a backstage pass they could copy only made things easier.

Gardien Chalamet reached into his shirt pocket and produced a business card. He handed it to Cole. “Call me if you have any further information.”

Cole nodded. “One more thing: Can you turn off the alarm for the door to the roof for about five minutes once you get downstairs?”

“Why?”

“I left something up there that I’d rather not leave unattended at night.”

“I’ll do that as soon as I get downstairs. Text me your number so I can let you know when it’s clear.”

“Thanks.”

Isabelle waited until the officer retreated down the hall before she asked, “Your rappelling gear?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to give our intruder an easy way in.” Cole texted Gardien Chalamet and slid his cell into his pocket.

Isabelle took his hand in hers. “Thanks for coming.”

Cole laced their fingers together. “I’m sorry I was late.”

“You’re here now.” She pushed onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

She had expected the kiss to be brief, a simple affirmation that Cole was here and they were both safe, but Cole drew her closer, and the adrenaline from the past twenty minutes poured into the kiss. Suddenly unbalanced, she settled her hands on his shoulders as one kiss led to another.

The rattle of water running through old pipes sounded overhead, and women’s voices carried in muted tones from a nearby apartment. All of that faded beneath the sensation of the bubble she and Cole had created in this moment.

Isabelle’s pulse quickened as Cole drew her closer. Her love swelled inside her, the words expressing her feelings demanding an escape. She fought against the urge to share the depth of her love. Cole was still adjusting to having a girlfriend. Moving toward something that could bring permanence to their relationship could very well send him into panic mode.

His phone buzzed, interrupting the private moment. Cole pulled back. “Sorry. That’s probably Gardien Chalamet.”

“It’s okay. Go get your stuff. I’ll meet you inside.”

Cole nodded and leaned forward for one more kiss, his lips lingering on hers as though he didn’t want the kiss to end.

Warmed by the gesture, she waited for him to disappear into the stairwell before she headed inside.

Marit and Lars were sitting on the couch, Lars’s arm firmly around Marit, when Isabelle walked in.

Marit lifted her head from his shoulder. “Is everything okay now?”

“Yes. Gardien Chalamet will stay in the lobby tonight.” Isabelle closed the door behind her. “Cole is running up to the roof to grab the gear he left up there.”

“Until I met Cole, I thought living on an upper floor was safe,” Marit said.

“Living on an upper floor is never safe.” Lars used his free hand to rub his thigh. “All those stairs can be a killer.”

“Which is why you should never live somewhere without a lift,” Marit teased.

Grateful that their moods seemed to have settled, Isabelle retreated to her room and retrieved her backstage passes for the various shows. She laid them out on the kitchen table and used her phone to photograph them, front and back.

“What are you doing?” Marit asked.

“Helping Cole so he can get some backstage passes made for him and Lars.”

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