Page 87 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

Grateful that he already had a pretty good idea of the layout backstage, Lars made directly for the area near the front curtain. If Marit had been bumped to a later spot, she’d be standing in line, awaiting her turn. Weaving his way around all the equipment, harried assistants, and tech-support personnel, Lars reached the long queue of models. A few assistants milled around them, straightening sleeves and adjusting collars, but there was no sign of Marit. Come to that, there was no sign of Isabelle either.

Pivoting, Lars headed for the makeup and hair stations. One model was in a chair having pins added to her elaborate hairstyle. Other than her and the waiting stylists, however, the area was empty. After thoroughly scouring the vicinity, he crossed to the changing area.

“Marit?” he called.

He didn’t want to pull back the curtains at each cubicle, especially since there may be models using them, but he was getting desperate.

“Marit?” he called again.

“Lars!”

He swung around. Isabelle was hurrying toward him from the area beyond the changing cubicles. She was wearing a floral dress and was moving remarkably quickly given the height of her heels.

“Where’s Marit?” Lars asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” She looked around the cluttered space. “She never showed up at the line. I’ve searched all the obvious places and haven’t found her.”

Lars’s misgiving was rapidly becoming full-fledged fear. The woman he hoped to marry was in danger. He could sense it. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Have you called Cole?”

She shook her head. “I was going to get my phone when I heard your voice.”

He dialed his cousin’s number.

Cole answered on the first ring. “What’s going on?”

Was it Lars’s imagination, or was Cole out of breath?

“Marit’s missing,” he said.

“What about Isabelle?”

“She’s with me backstage. She doesn’t know where Marit is either.”

“I’m in the building. I’ll be right there.” The sound of running footsteps echoed through the phone. “And, Lars, tell Isabelle: Kyle Adams is our man.”

Chapter 29

Isabelle put her hand onLars’s shoulder, concerned by the way the color had drained from his face. “What did Cole say?”

“He’s in the building and headed our way.”

“And?”

Lars leaned close and whispered, “He said Adams is our man.”

Isabelle had suspected as much, but the confirmation from Cole as well as Marit’s absence was enough to push her into action. “I’ll check the dressing area again.” Isabelle nodded toward the stylist stations. “You check that way.”

“Where’s Adams?” Lars asked, his hands fisted.

“I haven’t seen him, but you need to wait until Cole gets here before we corner him.”

Lars swallowed hard. “We have to find her.”

“We will.” Isabelle started toward the dressing area, but she only made it a few steps before one of Adams’s assistants grabbed her by the arm. “Where have you been? You’re up next.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Olivia pulled her toward the runway.

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