"I'm at work. Let me just move to the boardroom," she said, her breath coming through the phone as she walked. I heard a door shut, then, "I'm alone. Do I need to be?"
"When we talk, yes. Since we don't have a narrow list of suspects yet..."
"I'm still working on it," she cut in.
"That's great. Until I've investigated further, I'd like you to make sure you're never overheard when we talk. Did you tell anyone you employed me?" I asked, feeling suspicious about how close the mystery stalker could be to Juliet.
"A couple people."
"Who?" I pulled out my notepad.
"Rob, obviously. Also my mom and my friend, Penelope."
"Okay, don't tell anyone else. Let's keep this as quiet as possible for now."
"No problem. What do you need to talk about?"
"I'm at the coffee shop where your car was moved; and I'm puzzled how they could have done it if the keys came from your purse. I can't rule out the possibility of someone gaining a copy of your keys prior to that, but I think it's more likely the thief got them from you somehow. Do you recall anyone bumping into you?"
"No, definitely not."
"You're sure about that?"
"Positive. It was pretty quiet that day. I just bought a coffee and sat down with Penelope."
"The same Penelope's whom you told about me?" I asked. When Juliet confirmed, I asked, "Where did you sit?"
"The red table by the window."
"Which way were you facing?"
"Towards my car. Why?"
"I'm trying to get a picture of that event."
"Oh, okay."
"Your friend spilled coffee? What happened then?"
"Okay, so I'd only been sitting with her a few minutes when the coffee got spilled..."
"How did that happen?"
"Penelope went to reach for something in her purse, I think, and she knocked the table or something. My cup just fell over. Anyway, it spilled across my skirt so I had to go clean up in the bathroom."
"What happened when you came back?"
"Penelope cleaned the table with some napkins and was waiting for me."
"Where was your purse? Did you take it to the bathroom?"
"Oh, no. No, I didn't! I left it at the table because I took Penelope's wipes... My keys were in my purse."
"Where did the napkins come from?"
"I don't know. I guess Penelope got them from the counter. Is any of this useful information?"
"It tells me your bag might have been on its own for a short time and anyone could have accessed it."
"But my keys were in there when we left. Even if someone took them, how did they get them back in my purse?"
"That's a good question. I'd like to talk to your friend. Do you have her full name and number?"
"Sure, it's Penelope Cera," she said, reading off the phone number while I made a note of it. "She works with me so I could tell her you'll call."
"How come you met at the coffee shop after work if you work together?" I asked.
"Penelope is part-time and worked shorter hours that day; and she has today off. I know she'll help you however she can."
"Juliet, what does Penelope think of the stalking? You've discussed it with her?"
Juliet was quiet for a moment and when she started talking again, I could hear the reticence in her voice. She wanted her friend to believe her, but knew that she didn't. Disappointment laced her words. "Penelope is being really supportive, but she thinks it's just a bunch of weird coincidences and I should chill out."
"Does that upset you?"
"I don't know. I kind of get her point. From her perspective, I can see why she doesn't think it's anything to worry about. It's all silly, little stuff. There's no reason for her to believe me. She even said I must have not remembered where I parked my car."
"I believe you," I told her, "and that's why we'll get to the bottom of this. I'll call you later if I need any more information."
"Thank you."
From the coffee shop, I drove straight to Lily's bar, parked, and entered via the rear entrance. Lily wasn't in her office so I walked through to the main bar where Lily was sitting behind the bar, polishing glasses. She might not have been a detective, but she was plenty smart, and I needed to bounce ideas off someone. "Did you solve it?" she asked, looking up. "It must be twenty-four hours already."
"So close," I told her, holding my thumb and forefinger high. "Hey, if I told you I was being stalked, would you believe me?"
"Absolutely."
"Why?"
"It's happened to you so many times. It would be rude not to."
I laughed. "Seriously though. Before I became a PI, would you have believed me?"
"Sure. Are you going to ask why again?"
I nodded. Lily set a glass down and picked up another. "That's what friends do. Why the questions?"
"My client's friend doesn't seem to support her."
"That what she said?"
"No, that's what my client said."
"Maybe her friend doesn't want to worry her even more by agreeing it's true."
"I thought that. She doesn't think her fiancé believes her either, but he installed a new home security system."
"Jord did that too."
"Because you were being stalked?"
"No, because he investigated so many burglaries that he's become super uptight about home security."
"Solomon installed mine because a maniac broke in and tried to kill me." We both shivered at the memory. It wasn't one of my favorite nights at home, but my security was now state-of-the-art, thanks to Solomon and his team.
"Jord thought about waiting for that, but decided against it. Wait, did you get a discount for potential maniac murder preventable security?"
"One hundred percent off."
"Sweet. What do you think about your client? Did you ask her about her purse?"
"It didn't come up, but I think she could genuinely have a stalker."
"Depressing."
"I know."
"On the positive side..." Lily brightened. "You don't have one!"
"Not all that positive," I pointed out, "but all the same... yay!"
"Sooo... are we staking anyone out?"
"Just as soon as I've got all the information I need from my client. I asked her for a list of suspects, and a list of all the incidents she could think of before I start surveillance. I'm still waiting."
"You want to help behind the bar until then? The dishwasher left salt granules on every glass so now I have to clean them all by hand."
"Don't you employ people to do that?"
"I do, but there's only me until the lunch shift starts in half an hour."
"I'd love to, but I have to talk to my client's friend."
"I want to know all the details as they happen. And I definitely want in on a stakeout. We haven't followed anyone for ages."
"You sound like a stalker!"
"A crime-fighting one. Can we get suits?"
"Suits?"
"Like superhero suits. We could wear them under our clothes... I'm thinking Spandex. Maybe, pink. When we go to fight crime..."
"We don't fight crime!"
"Not intentionally, but when we do..."
"Do you really want to wear pink Spandex when you're six months pregnant?"
Lily looked down at her bump and wrinkled her nose. "I don't know. Maybe."
"You'll look like a trouser snake that swallowed a peach."
"I'll be the only SuperPregnantWoman ever!"
"Bit of a mouthful." I put my hand to my ears and pretended they were a phone. "SuperPregnantWoman, only you can help me! Save me!"
Lily put her phone hand to her ear. "Call me back. I'm in labor!"
"You'll have to retire in three months anyway."
"I could be SuperMom, the transitioning superhero."
"Transitioning superhero? Sounds like you're becoming a man."
"I don't like the tone of this conversation. Can we at least
have a secret handshake?" Lily stuck out her hand and wiggled her little finger. I placed my hand in hers and we both wiggled our little fingers.
"That doesn't look suspicious at all."
Lily beamed. "Exactly! No one will know... except Ruby. I'll tell her later when she starts her shift. We also need a secret clubhouse and cool gadgets. I'm so glad you work here now!"
"I'll leave you to iron out the details," I told her as I slid off the stool. "I'll be in my office."
Before Lily could suggest any more daring ideas, I jogged out of the bar and through the staff door, turning into the corridor that led to my office. Unlocking the door, I stepped through, shutting it firmly behind me. I dropped into my chair as I placed the file on my desk and opened it, glancing down at my supposition-filled notes and reaching for my phone. Juliet gave me a cell phone number for Penelope so I tried that. It went directly to her answering service. I left a message asking her to call me back and hung up.
Plucking a pen from the top drawer of the desk, I set about making my plan. Today and tomorrow I would find out as much as I could about Juliet and her life, mostly through interviewing her friends as she explained her family weren't currently around. With a lack of access to all the databases previously at my disposal, I had to rely on her. I hoped she would be forthcoming about her past and present. Since there was an element of financial crime linked to the stalking, I aimed to get the past year of her bank records and credit card statements too. That way I could gain a bigger picture of how the financial crimes occurred; and what the stalker might have done to access Juliet's money and credit. It would mean intimately combing through Juliet's life, but I figured she was worried enough that she would have been less concerned about me looking at her shopping habits and more interested in any answers I might find.
Just as I opened my laptop, preparing to connect to the bar's WiFi network and fire off an email to Juliet, I stopped. If the stalker had access to her credit cards, it stood to reason that he or she could also access Juliet's computer, including her emails. Maybe even access her cell phone. Electronic communication would have to be kept to a minimum, I decided; but the potential for creating an entrapment was also possible. Instead, I shot Juliet a text message. I asked her to call me from any number except the one she normally used. A few minutes later, she did.
"I don't understand," she said, "why can't I use my cell phone?"
"I want to get your phone and laptop checked over."
"What for...? Oh, you mean bugs? Do you think someone bugged me?"
"If they can access your home, car, and money, I don't want to rule it out until I'm sure."
"That's awful. They could be watching my every move!"
"Don't panic. They could, but they might not be. Can you bring your laptop and phone to my office so I can have them inspected?"
"Yes, but not until I finish work at six. I can get to you at six-thirty. Is that okay?"
"Perfect. Also, can you get copies of your credit card and bank statements? And highlight any fraudulent transactions."
"But I already reported them to the credit card company."
"Are they still investigating?"
"Yes, but it doesn't look good. Like I said, they're claiming I made those purchases."
"I need to see everything, going back a year should be far enough. Bring any communications from the credit card companies too, please. I can't contact them without your authority, but it won't hurt to look at those communications too."
"I still don't get why someone would do this to me."
"We'll find out."
"Is there anything else you need?"
"Not yet. I'll call you if I need anything else. If you need to call me again today, do it..."
"From another phone," Juliet finished. "I remember."
I had to reassure Juliet a couple more times before we said our goodbyes. It wasn't any good to make false promises to her, nor did I have a detailed plan yet of how to control her case. High expectations were something I often had to temper early on in a case. The simple fact was, investigative work was slow and time-consuming. The results often took days, if not weeks, to collate. Working on Juliet's side was: the stalking hadn't progressed to a serious level. What worried me was the possibility it could soon. Her stalker had no problems being invasive; and I felt sure that once I saw Juliet's incident log, I would see a pattern whereby the stalking would escalate soon.
I tried Penelope again, but once again, my call went to her answering service. Instead of leaving a message, I hung up and redialed my oldest brother. Garrett was a lieutenant in the homicide division and a go-to source whenever I needed help.
"Is this a babysitting favor?" he asked, hearing my voice.
"No, but I could work up to that."
"Hmph," he replied. "Hit me with it."
"Can you check to see if there are any incident reports for a street in Bedford Hills. Blossom Road?"
"Give me a minute. No. Nothing in the past two years. There was a DUI three years ago. Interested?"
"Nope. Too far back for my client."
"What are you working on?"
"A potential stalking."
"Is it credible?"
"I think so."
"Has your client spoken to anyone at MPD?"
"Yes, but there hasn't been any serious incident yet; so there was nothing they could do."
"What's the name? I can take a look at the report."
"Juliet Hart."
I heard him tapping keys.
"It's quiet your end," I told him even though I was pretty sure he could use his own ears.
"We just solved a case and we're waiting for the next one to roll in."
"Depressing."
"Tell me about it... oh, hey, this is weird."
"What is?"
"Your client's been flagged. Let me call you back when I find out what's going on?"
"What do you mean... flagged?" I asked, but Garrett was already gone, leaving me with a dead line.
I frowned at my notepad, wondering what was going on at MPD, but I figured Garrett would call me back soon. While I waited, I made a list of whom I should interview: Penelope, Rob, Juliet's employer, her neighbors. When my phone rang, I picked it up without checking the screen.
"Lexi, it's me, Juliet." Her voice came in quick, panicked bursts.
"Are you okay?"
"No! They're taking me to the police station. I've been arrested! Please help me!"
Chapter Four
I waited in the Montgomery Police Department lobby for thirty minutes, a fashion magazine open and unread in my lap, until an officer arrived to talk to me. Detective Donahue came to Garrett's fortieth birthday party. I remembered him; he was fun and friendly and he flirted with one of my cousins.
"You're not Juliet Hart's lawyer," he said, approaching me without calling my name. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not that he remembered me. I hoped he didn't remember me dancing on a table.
I fixed him with a smile. "No, I'm not."
"Then what are you doing here? What's your interest? I hear you're a PI now, so is she a friend, or a case?" he asked, cutting straight to the punch.
"A case."
"Let's go somewhere and talk." He turned on his heel, walking away, leaving me no choice but to hurry after him as I stuffed the magazine into my purse. Instead of taking me to an interview room, he ducked into the squad room, grabbing a spare chair on the way to his desk. Setting it down beside his desk, he indicated I should sit as he took up his position behind his desk. "What's your involvement?" he asked. "And I mean honestly. No crap, Lexi."
I looked around the room before I answered, vaguely wondering whether or not to feel affronted at the suggestion I would give him a story instead of the truth. I'd already been in the financial crimes room before. My friend, and former boyfriend, Adam Maddox used to occupy the desk across the room. That was back when he was a detective at MPD. He switched to another squad after serving his time in financial cri
mes before becoming an agent with the FBI, but as I caught sight of his desk, it still reminded me of him. Instead of a pile of case files, the desk now was home to a coffee machine and a messy heap of paper cups. I wasn't sure how Maddox would feel about that, but I figured his desk at the FBI made up for it.
"Lexi?"
I turned my attention back to Detective Donahue. "Sorry. Juliet hired me because she believes a stalker is targeting her."
He gave me a long look that could have meant anything. "Do you believe her?"
"I only just started investigating."
"That isn't a yes or a no."
What was with people demanding absolute answers? I wondered; but I answered, "I'm veering more towards a yes, based on what she says, but I have nothing concrete to prove it. Like I said, I only just got the case."
"That's a fair comment."
"My turn. Why did you bring her in?"
"You know I'm only talking to you now because I know your family, right? Any other PI would be abruptly told to get lost."
I nodded. "I appreciate that."
"Okay," he said, leaning forwards, his bare arms pressing against the desk. I resisted the urge to reach over and adjust his crooked tie. "We were alerted to an insider trading issue at Lancaster Friedland, an investment firm, a month ago, and we've been quietly looking into it."
"At their request?" I asked. Juliet had listed the firm as her employer on my client sheet. I had a bad feeling about what Donahue planned to tell me.
"No, it came from higher up. Lancaster Friedland didn't call us in."
"How's Juliet involved in this?"
"The trail came back to her. We have a cyber trail proving she got tipoffs about a few major moves, and later acted on that knowledge to trade. The stock she bought skyrocketed, making millions; and in a couple of cases, she lost a few hundred thousand."
"She lost a few hundred thousand?" I gasped.
"Chicken feed in her job. That's not the issue. We're looking at the money she made."
"I don't understand. Making money is a good thing."
"Not in this case. Traders can't use information that isn't freely available to the public. We've found evidence that Juliet was given insider information and alerted to market moves before they happened. That creates an unfair market."
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