Page 72 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

Isabelle laughed. “What else did you learn while you were there?”

“Not much more than we’ve already told you,” Cole said. “LaRue and his business manager left soon after we got our food. I called the police once they were gone to check on the James and Bernard investigations.” He frowned. “No new leads.”

“So, what do we do now?” Marit asked.

“Well, since Fashion Week officially starts tomorrow morning, Lars and I will walk you and Isabelle to the Carrousel du Louvre for Camille Allard’s show,” Cole said. “While you’re working, we’ll see if we can find anything of interest backstage.”

“Is there anything we should be working on tonight?” she asked.

Cole looked at Isabelle and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think? Some last-minute modeling lessons for you, or another self-defense session for Marit?”

“If Marit’s feeling half as wiped out as me, we both need to spend at least half an hour doing nothing more than scrolling mindlessly through YouTube videos on our phones.”

Marit laughed. “That sounds amazing.”

“Right?” Isabelle gave Cole a deceptively innocent look. “Although I’m pretty sure holding a mug of hot chocolate in the other hand would make it even better.”

Cole chuckled. “Am I going out for this hot chocolate, or is there some in the kitchenette?”

“Try the cupboard to the right of the sink,” Marit said.

Cole crossed to the cupboard, opened it, and pulled out a box. “Do you want some, too, Lars?”

“Sure.”

“Great.” Cole opened another cupboard. “Four mugs of hot chocolate, a half-hour break, and a lesson on how to disarm a gunman coming up.”

Chapter 24

Cole headed for the servicedoor designated for those carrying backstage access passes, Isabelle and Marit flanked between him and Lars. He wasn’t thrilled that Isabelle would no longer be able to carry his spare weapon with her due to the higher security measures present at the Louvre. His determination to stick close to both her and Marit was rising by the minute.

Lars slowed as they approached the entrance and the guard standing beside it. Despite the meter of space and two women between them, Cole didn’t miss the way Lars gripped the forged pass hanging from his neck.

Lars put his arm around Marit and leaned toward Cole, his voice low. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Trust me.” Cole slid his arm around Isabelle, both to draw closer to Lars and to take advantage of her nearness. “Act like you’re supposed to be here.”

“I am supposed to be here,” Lars said. “Just not like this.”

“Keep that to yourself,” Cole whispered.

“Everything will be fine,” Isabelle assured Lars. She cast a glance at Marit. “At least with getting inside.”

“You’re going to be great today,” Marit said. “Just remember, one step at a time.”

“Right.”

They reached the entrance, and Cole held up his backstage pass. He had to admit, whoever at the CIA had created it was seriously talented. After picking it up from the Paris station, he had compared the forged passes to Isabelle’s. Even when placed side by side, Cole couldn’t tell which one was real and which was fake.

The guard leaned closer to inspect Cole’s pass. Then he waved him through. Lars followed without incident.

Cole waited for Lars to catch up to him. “See? I told you not to worry.”

“In my defense, you’ve told me that a lot of times, including when people have been pointing guns at us.”

Cole paused and thought back to the few times when he and Lars had ended up in dicey situations together. “I’m pretty sure you’re exaggerating. I don’t think I’ve said that when anyone was shooting.”

“The fact that you had to think about it is proof enough for me.”

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