Adrian took a closer look at the business card he held in his hand. Yes, he was in the right place. Not far from where he was standing was a building with the words "D'Alessandro Fashion House" written on it in large letters. He recalled one incident when he was concerned about a woman who was inspecting his shirts and that led him to fashion designer Julian Hodge, who killed two models. Then Monk did a good deed for that noble woman - he proved that her son was innocent. He shook his head, hoping he wouldn't have a similar scenario this time, and headed for the entrance. He had no doubt that he would find himself in the elegant fashion world and that many would look at him in wonder, but he knew who he was looking for and had no plans to give up. Leyla Zlatavich arrived shortly after, dressed in an elegant business suit and with a smile on her face. Next to her stood a young model with black hair in a tight blue cocktail dress.

"Maria, I hope we have a deal," she said in her thick accent. "See you at the show."

The girl nodded her head and left. Leyla then turned to Monk and smiled widely.

"Former detective Monk!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad to see you."

I admit that I didn't believe you would look for me, but here you are."

Adrian smiled politely. "You told me to call if I needed a friendly chat. I thought for a long time, and decided that this is exactly what I need."

"Great," she said cheerfully. "I also need someone to drink coffee with. Here you go." She started towards her office and Adrian followed her.

The interior of her office was classy and tidy, just the way old Adrian Monk would have liked it. This new Monk, however, didn't care so much about symmetry and just wanted to hear another opinion, other than Leland's. Somehow, deep down, he didn't want to give up on Natalie, even though he knew it wasn't right. A thought related to her crossed his mind again. Everything in his life was somehow related to her. He remembered how she had encouraged him when he was in love with Leyla, how she had been on his side when he thought she was innocent. Now, can this unusual woman with whom he was once in love give him useful advice? Leyla noticed his absence and raised her left eyebrow.

"What's bothering you, Detective Monk. Excuse me, a former, former detective. But before you answer, I would like to know why you're a 'twice' former?"

Adrian sighed deeply and leaned back in the comfortable leather chair.

"Twelve years I waited for them to bring me back to the police. When it finally happened, I realized that I was no longer the same person and that the job was not for me. That's the short version of the story. That's how I became a former, former detective."

"Sounds interesting," she said. "Oh, your ring!" she jumped up. "I completely forgot about your wife!"

Adrian swallowed the dumpling and curled his fingers.

"My wife," he repeated. "What about her?"

Leyla put a cup of coffee in front of him and looked at him under the eye.

"Remember how much you talked to me about her and how I barely got you to take off your wedding ring so you could clean it?"

He nodded his head.

"In the end, I told you to go back to your life, and you asked me - life or wife."

"You said both," he finished.

"True. But what on earth happened to your wife?"

"It's a long story," he said. "I didn't tell you anything then, but I was actually a widower."

"A widower?", she repeated, with astonishment, and sat down in her place, across from him. "But you wore a ring, you still wear it now, I don't understand..."

"Nobody understands that," he sighed. "She was killed fifteen years ago, and for twelve years I searched for her killer. I never took off my wedding ring and I suffered for her for years."

Leyla nodded in understanding. "But what has changed now?"

Adrian cocked his head. "How do you mean?"

"You still wear the ring, which means you still suffer for your wife, but I see a certain change in you. Is that why you came to me?"

He took a sip of coffee and was pleasantly surprised by its taste.

"I actually came here because I need some advice. I know it sounds strange, but I think only a stranger could understand me."

"Then you are at the right address," she replied. "Despite living in America for years, I still sometimes feel like a foreigner."

Adrian had to smile at this.

"I'm too self-centered. I didn't even ask you how you're doing in this business? Are you married?"

Leyla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"I haven't and I don't plan to do that. As for work, I'm much better here than in the refugee home." Then she stopped and looked at the floor.

"Do you remember when I told you about the fiancé who was killed in that massacre?"

"I am a man who remembers everything," he repeated his previous phrase.

"I still love him," she admitted quietly. "I will probably love him for the rest of my life."

"I understand you," he said.

"Enough about me," she said, wiping away unruly tears. "Tell me how I can help you? By the way, where's your assistant...Natalie, right? It seems to me that you were inseparable. Does she still work for you?"

Adrian felt his cheeks flush and urgently had to calm his heartbeat.

"That's why I came," he stammered somehow. "It's about her, about Natalie."

Leyla sat back in her seat and took the cup in her hands.

"What happened to Natalie?"

"She..." Adrian fiddled with his fingers nervously, "she's getting married soon."

"Really? That's great news. Is he from here?"

"He's a Navy lieutenant and they have been together for a long time."

Leyla looked at him, expecting a continuation.

"He's a really nice guy and I believe he would make Natalie happy, but there's one problem." He paused and looked at her with his brown eyes.

"Which problem?"

"I realized recently that I'm in love with her. I love her, Leyla, and I'm desperate for it."

Leyla was silent for a long time and thought about what to say.

"That's really awkward," she said, after a while.

"Pretty awkward," he sighed. "I don't know how to behave, sometimes I feel like my emotions are going to swallow me."

"Natalie loves her fiancé, doesn't she?"

He nodded his head. "That's what hurts me the most. Yesterday she told me she wanted me to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day."

"What did you answer?" she asked.

"Nothing. I…I just can't do it. But if I refuse, I'll hurt her. I don't know what to do."

"I think you should tell her the truth. I know it's hard and painful, but you've known each other for so many years. I think you should be honest with her."

"But...", Adrian stammered, "how can I do that? I will lose her as a friend forever."

"No, you will not," Leyla shook her head. "Every person appreciates honesty. It's better that way than lying to her about why you can't walk her down the aisle."

Then she got up and approached him, and took his hands.

"I believe it's difficult for you, but lying will only distance you from her. Imagine how she will be hurt, if she found out through someone else that you are in love with her?"

Adrian started to say something, but a loud scream that broke through the room, stopped him. The thin blonde ran into Leyla's office, gasping for air. She was scared to death.

"Caroline!" Leyla exclaimed. "What's going on? What's that scream?"

"Miss Zlatavich," she stammered, "please...Maria's room..."

"What's happening with Maria?" Leyla looked worriedly at the girl, and then at Adrian, but she had to run after her. Adrian followed Leyla and soon stopped short when he saw the young girl's lifeless body on the floor of the room.

"Oh, God, Maria," Leyla cried out in shock. "Caroline, call 911, now!

The girl nodded and reached for the phone. Adrian rolled his shoulders in his old fashion and approached the victim. He crouched down and smelled something.

"Adrian!", Leyla called him. He stood up and turned to her. "I completely forgot that you are great at this job. Maybe you can help the police?"

"They would probably invite me," he shrugged. Then he crouched down again. "There was a man in this room."

"How do you know?"

"I smell DIOR Sauvage men's perfume. She must have had a date."

"Date? She worked here, I expressly forbade dates. Is there anything else?"

Adrian spread his fingers and made a circle around the victim. Then he took a pair of tweezers from his pocket and took something from her coat.

"Blonde hair. The victim had black hair."

"Caroline," Leyla called her, "tell me, what do you know about the man Maria was seeing?"

"Nothing, miss," she replied fearfully. "I swear I don't know."

"Have you seen any blond men around her?" Adrian asked.

"I didn't, I don't know anything," she repeated.

Soon they heard noises and Leland practically ran into the room with the other officers.

"SPFD, Leland Stottlemeyer, no one is to touch anything..." He paused, mouth half open and eyes wide. "Monk! What are you doing here?"

"Leland," he said quietly, "that doesn't matter now. You would have invited me anyway, wouldn't you?" He rolled his shoulders again.

Leland turned to Leyla, then looked at Caroline.

"You knew the victim?"

"Not really, but I already checked the crime scene."

Leland twitched his mustache and turned to the young lieutenant who represented Randy's replacement.

"We found her ID card. The victim is Maria Smith, twenty-two years old. According to the current assessment, the cause of death is blunt force hit.

"You are her colleagues, I suppose?" he asked Leyla and Caroline suspiciously.

"I was her boss," Leyla answered. "Maria was a model, Caroline too."

"And who are you?" Leland stepped closer to her.

Monk raised a finger to say something, but changed his mind.

"Leyla Zlatavich. I'm the personal assistant of fashion designer Leonardo D'Alessandro. He owns this fashion house."

Leland's eyes suddenly flashed. "Leyla Zlatavich?" He then turned to Monk who was staring at him wordlessly.

"Monk, you and I need to have a serious talk."

Then he turned to Leila and measured her carefully.

"I would like to speak to D'Alessandro, but first I would like to speak to you."

"Sure," she said politely and asked him to follow her.

Before leaving the room, Leland stopped next to Monk.

"You have so much to explain to me, you know."

"Leland, look for the blond man who use DIOR Sauvage. He was in this room shortly before the murder," Monk said quickly, ignoring his words.

Leland turned to the officers who were inspecting the crime scene and called for Lt. Ryder, a younger man with brown hair.

"David, what did you find?"

The lieutenant picked up the bag containing the black button.

"We found this under the table. I'd say it belongs to a man's coat."

Monk took out a handkerchief from his pocket and took the bag, weighing it more carefully. Then he slowly turned to Leland.

"I would say we're dealing with a man who wears expensive suits and uses expensive perfume. So he's wealthy."

Leland shook his head violently.

"I'm going to talk to Leyla Zlatavich first. David, look up all the people Maria has had contact with in the last week."

The lieutenant nodded and got to work.

"Monk, we don't need you anymore. You can go home."

"Leland," he called, stopping him at the door. "Leyla has nothing to do with this. She's innocent, I'm sure."

Leland pointed a finger at him.

"We'll talk about that later."