Someone smiled.
Evelyn didn't.
"She's being difficult," Evelyn said.
Camille looked at her.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Because I'm asking questions?"
"Because you know exactly what you're doing."
Camille slowly placed the dresses on the counter.
"There."
Reed nodded.
"Thank you."
Then he reached for his notebook.
"Identification."
Camille looked at him.
"Am I being detained?"
"Not at this moment."
"Then am I required to provide identification?"
Reed frowned.
"Ma'am."
"I asked a simple question."
The store became quiet.
Reed looked at Martin.
Martin looked away.
Then Evelyn said:
"People who have nothing to hide don't make things complicated."
Camille turned toward her.
"That's an interesting philosophy."
Evelyn crossed her arms.
"Is it?"
Camille smiled faintly.
"Yes."
She reached inside her coat.
Reed's hand moved toward his belt.
Camille stopped.
"Wallet."
Reed nodded.
She removed a black leather cardholder.
She opened it.
Inside were several cards.
One was a driver's license.
Another was a corporate identification card.
And one was a small silver executive credential bearing the Bellmont & Rowe emblem.
Camille handed Reed the driver's license.
He read the name.
"Camille Carter."
"Yes."
He looked at the address.
Then at her.
Something about the name seemed familiar.
But he couldn't remember why.
He looked at the store manager.
"Do you know her?"
Martin opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Before he could answer, footsteps thundered down the marble staircase.
Someone was running.
And the entire store turned.
The man running down the staircase was Jonathan Hale.
Regional President of Bellmont & Rowe.
He was fifty-one years old and rarely hurried.
That afternoon, he ran.
His jacket was unbuttoned.
His tie was loose.
His face had lost all color.
He reached the bottom step and looked across the store.
His eyes found Camille.
"Ms. Carter."