Suspects(13)

“He certainly is.” They both laughed about it, and Mike relaxed a little.

That night, Theo and her crew worked at the store until midnight. When they left, every last detail was perfect, and they would be open for business the next day with the party that night.

On the eve of the party, Mike was home reading and doing some work on his computer. He was trying not to think of Theo. There was no point worrying about her. Robert was right. It wasn’t his case, and he didn’t even know her. His obsessing about her wouldn’t undo what had happened.

The night of the party, at the store, five of the six actresses came to collect their dresses a few hours before. They picked some expensive ones, but it would be great PR for the store to have them there, looking fabulous in dresses from Theo.com. Two of them said they already shopped Theo.com online.

The staff made sure that their credit card terminal was working so purchases would be easy, and at five o’clock Theo went back to the hotel to bathe and change, even though no one was going to see her. Just in case, she had to represent the store well, if an emergency happened or if she had to come out of the back room to greet an important guest. She hoped not, but she had to at least be respectably dressed. The dress she had brought to wear was sober and respectable, although her distinctive sense of style shone through whatever she wore.

She was back at the store at seven, in her simple black dress and high-heeled Manolo Blahniks. She wore her hair loose and a pair of diamond earrings Matthieu had given her on her last birthday with him, and she was wearing her wedding band. All her other jewelry had been in her safe for over a year.

She had a chair set up in the back room behind the dark red curtains, where she was going to work the stock for the staff, and hand them the different sizes they needed. She knew precisely where everything was. By seven-thirty, the store was full to the gills with women in cocktail clothes and haute couture outfits. She had peeked through the curtains several times and recognized several well-known socialites and two major actresses. The men were as handsome and well dressed as the women. It was a glittering crowd of fashionable, important New Yorkers, and at a quarter to eight, she saw Pierre de Vaumont among them, in a dark blue suit and Hermès tie. He seemed to know everyone as he walked through the crowd with a glass of champagne in his hand, stopping to greet people.

Valentina burst through the curtains a minute later. “Pierre de Vaumont is here, and he’s asking for you. A lot of people are. I told him you hadn’t arrived yet, but it seems weird with the party in full swing without you.” It was no weirder than she felt every day now. She couldn’t imagine going to a party ever again.

She smiled at Valentina. “It’s fine. They don’t need me out there.”

“You set up this beautiful store, you should be there to see how much they’re all loving it.” They had been selling expensive items at a brisk pace. The five young actresses had showed up, and the press was outside on the sidewalk. They had gotten photographs of everyone going in and out.

Pierre’s CIA tail of the day had called Mike after they got there.

“He’s at a party,” the young agent reported to Mike. “It’s by invitation only so I can’t go in. It looks like a big deal, there are a few hundred people here. But there’s only one entrance, I think, so I won’t lose him.” Mike couldn’t imagine de Vaumont sneaking out a back door anywhere. He was too bold and arrogant to sneak, and he loved the press.

“Where is it?” Mike asked, wondering where Pierre got the energy to go from meetings to parties to dinners to nightclubs to hookers all day and night.

“It’s at a store called Theo’s. It’s some kind of opening or something. There are several famous actresses here. Is it okay that I can’t get in? They’re being strict about the invitations at the door.” Mike thought about it for a minute.

“What are you wearing? You could tell them you left the invitation at home.”

“I’m wearing a jacket and jeans and running shoes.”

“That won’t get you far,” Mike commented. He was surprised to hear that Pierre de Vaumont was at Theo’s store, and he was not too pleased about it. This was obviously why she had come to New York. But why had he? For this or something else? “Stay where you are, unless he leaves,” Mike directed him. Mike had stayed late at the office, and he had several changes of clothes there for occasions like this, where he suddenly had to wear a suit or casual clothes, for a meeting or a visit to a field operation. He shaved before he dressed, changed into a suit, white shirt, and tie, brushed his hair, and took off ten minutes later. He had worn dress shoes too. He looked ultra respectable and like the successful lawyer he pretended to be as a cover, so no one would know he was a senior CIA agent, which he never disclosed. Only his sister knew.

An Uber got him uptown in twenty minutes and the party was still in full swing when he got there. He saw the agent out of the corner of his eye, gave no sign of acknowledgment, and walked up to the pretty girl in the attractive black cocktail dress at the door, with the list.

“Hello, I’m so sorry, I forgot my invitation at the office. Theo is going to be so upset if I don’t get in,” he said with his most alluring, irresistible expression, and she melted at the sight of him. He looked so appropriate she didn’t bother to ask his name or check the list.

She smiled. “Of course, go right in, it’s pretty crowded,” she warned him. He pressed into the crowd, and saw de Vaumont in the distance, recognizing him from his pictures. But he didn’t recognize Theo from hers. He didn’t see her anywhere and wondered if she hadn’t arrived yet. He had come to see her himself, and meet her if possible, since he was so intrigued by her case, and why the French authorities hadn’t solved it and brought the killers to justice. This might be his only chance to meet her.