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Marit was still trembling when she and Isabelle reached the flat. Allowing Isabelle to unlock the door and go inside ahead of her, Marit attempted to get a grip on her emotions. She didn’t want to think that she was being targeted, but two muggings in less than a week made it difficult to believe otherwise. And that realization was terrifying.

“It’s all clear,” Isabelle called. “Come on in.”

Marit walked into the living room and dropped her purse on the sofa. “These attacks are happening because of my supposed involvement in the robbery, aren’t they?”

“Probably,” Isabelle said, not bothering to hide her concern. “Everything started happening after Ralph’s designs were stolen.” She paced across the kitchen floor. “Your flat and James’s room were ransacked. The thief was looking for something. James was killed in the process, but we don’t know if he gave the thief what he wanted.” She paused. “If he didn’t, they may still think you have it.”

“Have what ?” Marit asked.

“I wish I knew.” She began pacing again. “What exactly did Cole say the culprit stole from Ralph’s safe?”

“The muslin patterns and a jump drive.”

Isabelle stopped midstride. Pivoting, she crossed the distance between them in a few short steps. “The jump drive,” she said. “It has to be.” She picked up Marit’s purse. “How would you feel about me dumping this?”

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. “ I didn’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 caf é gripped in one hand. “I never should have let Isabelle and Marit take a taxi on their own.”

“If Bianchi’s third wife had been where we thought she was, it wouldn’t have taken us all day to track her down,” Lars said.

Cole glanced at him. The concern and guilt on his cousin’s face matched his own.

“I can’t believe we decided to talk to the exes on Maribelle Bianchi’s spa day.” Cole cringed when the vision of the sharp-tongued woman in a far-too-thin silk robe crowded his mind. “Next time, we’re waiting outside the spa to ask questions.”

“I don’t plan on there being a next time for me.” Lars pulled out his cell phone as they approached the entrance to Marit and Isabelle’s building. He hit the Call button and put his phone to his ear. “We’re outside.” After a brief exchange, Lars hung up. “Marit said they’ll be right down.”

Cole handed the takeaway bag to Lars even though Lars already had a bag of his own tucked into the crook of his arm. “Here. You carry this one too. I need my hands free.”

Lars didn’t argue. He took the second bag.

Only two minutes passed before Isabelle came outside just in front of Marit. Both women took a good look around before continuing onto the sidewalk.

Lars immediately set the bags on the ground and pulled Marit into his arms. He held her tightly, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. “I love you,” he murmured. “I’m so relieved he didn’t hurt you.”

“Me too.” Marit’s voice was strained. “It’s a good thing Isabelle was there.”

Cole did another quick analysis of their surroundings to make sure Marit didn’t experience a third attack before he drew Isabelle into his arms to prove to himself that she was okay as well. He held her close for a brief moment before he released her. “I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“Me too,” Isabelle said, her voice low.

Cole glanced at Marit, noting that she was carrying nothing. Smart. But he wanted her off the street regardless.

Lars drew back, his focus still on Marit. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Just a little shaky.”

“That’s understandable.” Lars shifted so he was at Marit’s side, his arm protectively around her shoulders.

Cole put his hand on Isabelle’s waist and gestured across the street. “Let’s get to the hotel.”

Isabelle began walking. Lars released Marit long enough to pick up the food bags but stayed right beside her as they crossed the road. Cole fell in behind Marit and Lars, shielding them until they walked inside and reached the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid closed, Isabelle stepped beside Cole.

Unable to resist any longer, Cole leaned in for a brief kiss. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up today.”

“It’s not your fault.” Isabelle lifted her hand and rested it on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known someone would be waiting for us when we got here.”

“We’ve been trying to protect against that possibility the whole time we’ve been here,” Cole reminded her.

“Which is why I’ve been with Marit at every fitting, rehearsal, and casting call.”

She had a point, but he didn’t have to like that she had been forced to deal with the situation on her own.

They reached their floor.

Cole and Isabelle stepped out of the elevator. Even though the hall was empty, Cole motioned for the others to go in front of them.

Lars unlocked their room. After he’d set the food down on the little table, he put a protective arm around Marit.

“You and Marit can take the chairs at the table, Lars,” Isabelle said. “Cole and I can sit on the bed.”

Once they were seated, Marit reached into her pocket and produced a black flash drive. “This is what we think the mugger was after.”

Cole took the offering and moved to the hotel safe to retrieve his laptop.

“You know,” Marit said, “if you and Lars had been with us, the mugger might not have come after us, and we might not have ever known this was in my bag.”

“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.”

“You’ve got this,” Isabelle encouraged.

Though Lars looked skeptical, he motioned to Cole. “My cousin gave you permission to beat up on him. You should take advantage of the opportunity.”

“I’d rather not beat up on anyone,” Marit said.

“You can’t think that way when you perceive a threat.” Cole moved to the open space of the room at the end of the bed, hoping this distraction would help Marit’s mindset. “It’s you or him.”

“Okay.” Marit approached. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let’s start by pretending I’m an attacker coming at you from behind.” Cole twirled his finger so she would turn around.

Marit took a deep breath and did so.

Not giving her a chance to prepare, Cole grabbed Marit around the waist with one hand and hooked his other arm around her throat.

Marit gasped. Then as though she did so all the time, her foot stomped on his, and she thrust her elbow into his ribs.

Cole’s hold loosened, and Marit elbowed him again.

Cole stumbled back a step and dropped onto the edge of the bed, stunned.

“Oh, Cole!” Marit rushed forward and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry!”

Cole rubbed at his ribs. He looked up at Isabelle’s face, her expression caught between disbelief and laughter.

“Looks like Isabelle and Marit are both good teachers.” Cole drew a deep breath. “But you know what they say.”

“What?” Marit asked.

Cole rubbed his ribs again. “Practice makes perfect.”