A condominium overlooking Central Park.
His posture changed slightly.
Camille noticed.
That change bothered her almost more than Evelyn’s accusation.
The address did not make the dresses less stolen.
The expensive neighborhood did not create innocence.
Money had simply made Camille easier for him to believe.
Brennan checked her name and found no warrants.
Camille said she would have been surprised.
He did not appreciate the remark.
Then a voice came from the staircase.
“What exactly is happening down there?”
Everyone turned.
A tall Black man in a navy suit stood halfway down the sweeping stone staircase from the administrative floor. He was fifty-four, silver beginning to show at his temples, and had removed his tie sometime during an afternoon meeting. His name was Julian Cross, president of Vale Rowe’s North American retail division.
At first, Julian looked irritated.
Then he saw Camille.
His entire face changed.
“Oh, no.”
Martin looked up.
Evelyn frowned.
Brennan turned.
Julian took the remaining stairs quickly.
“Camille?”
She said nothing.
He stopped several feet away and looked around the room.
Officer.
Phones.
Three dresses.
Evelyn.
Martin.
Then back to Camille.
“What happened?”
Evelyn answered first.
“This woman was behaving suspiciously.”
Julian looked at her.
Then at Camille.
“You called the police?”
“She was wandering around with expensive clothing.”
Julian stared.
“That is called shopping.”
Someone near the handbags laughed.
Evelyn’s face reddened.
Brennan looked toward Julian. “You know her?”
Julian turned slowly.
“Yes.”
The officer waited.
Julian swallowed.
“She founded Vale Rowe.”
Nobody spoke.
Then he added the part that broke the room open.
“She owns the company.”
Evelyn actually laughed once.
It was a short, strange sound of disbelief.
“What?”
Julian gestured around them.
“This brand.”
He pointed toward the sales floor.
“This flagship.”
Then toward the upper levels.
“The corporate operation occupying the floors above us.”
He looked back at Evelyn.
“She is the controlling owner.”
Brennan looked down at Camille’s license.
Martin’s face went pale.
One employee covered her mouth.
Evelyn’s shoulders dropped.