Authors: Camilla Chafer
"Evidence can be planted," said Solomon. "If that's the case, we'll find out
how.
Then we'll follow the trail and find out
who
."
"Do you trust him?" asked Juliet, turning to me.
"Yes. Absolutely. Like I said, I've worked for his agency, and they're the good guys. We need a strong team of good guys."
Juliet shook her head wearily before looking up to Rob. Something passed silently between them. When Juliet looked to us again, first me, then at Solomon, she said, "Then thank you, I think. I just hope I don't regret this."
"We're going to follow up a lead," I told them, rising. "Delgado will stay here until the installation is complete and tested. Don't tell a single person about it. Not a soul."
"Not anyone?" asked Rob.
"
No one
can know. If the stalker is someone close to you, they need to believe they still have free access to your home. When they enter again, we'll be ready."
"I feel like a prisoner on some kind of awful, reality television show," said Juliet.
"I'm really sorry," I said, hoping I sounded it.
"So what happens next?" asked Rob. "We just wait here until they come back? Or until Juliet has to go to court?"
"Yes, I'm sorry. I know that's not the answer you wanted to hear, but Juliet can't leave under the terms of her house arrest. Someone should stay in the house at all times so she isn't ever alone."
"Don't worry," Juliet said, patting Rob's hand. "We'll be okay."
I doubted either of them believed her words, but I couldn't say anymore to reassure them. Instead, I produced the list of trades Solomon obtained along with the surveillance photos.
"Can you tell me about these?" I asked, passing them to Juliet.
She perused them. "This is my neighbor Alma, and this is our maid Angie who won't be returning until this is all over, and this lady minds Robbie on the few occasions we have him and have to go to a function."
"And the trades?"
"Detective Donahue already showed these to me. Apparently, those are trades I made, but I didn't. I mean, I could have, but I didn't."
"They're all logged in with your access codes."
"I know, but someone could have gotten them."
"What about the dates? Were you in the office each day when these took place?"
Juliet glanced down at the page again. "Yes, I think so."
"And the times?"
"Yes, I... wait, no, no! Not this one!" Juliet tapped the paper, smiling as she looked up eagerly. "I was at an antenatal scan for this one; but I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I definitely was not there when this took place. That's good, right? I have an alibi?"
Solomon and I exchanged glances. "It's a good start," I told her. "I'll check this out."
"What do you think of the boyfriend?" Solomon asked as we shut the front door behind us a few minutes later and walked to his car.
"Seems a nice guy. He's nuts about her. That's obvious."
"How nuts?
"Not crazy nuts."
"Crazy sometimes looks like normal. He can access their home, along with their alarm code. I bet he knows Juliet's passwords, or could easily figure them out. He could potentially get into her workplace and use her work computer too."
"Are you seriously suggesting her own fiancé would stalk her? Why would he do that?"
"Jealousy, control, insecurity, psychological issues..."
"But he's already got her! She loves him. They're having a baby soon."
"It happens to thousands of women. Guys, too."
"I don't want to tell Juliet we might have to investigate her fiancé. He's the only person she trusts right now."
"He could be having an affair. Juliet's the one with the money; and money equals power to some people. Maybe he wants her out of the way so he can keep everything he's got."
"Your mind is an awful place," I told my boyfriend.
"There's a lot of fun stuff in my mind, and you should know it."
I did know, but now was not the time, or the place for him to ask me to prove it. "I can't tell Juliet that Rob is considered a suspect."
"Then we won't tell her, but we'll look into him anyway."
"My job depresses me today." I heaved out a sigh and closed my eyes as we took off.
Penelope Cera lived in a small apartment in Harbridge, only a few blocks away from Maddox. The apartment building was on the smaller side, and very neatly kept. Mature, potted ferns decorated the lobby, but there was no doorman or elevator, although the communal areas looked like they were cleaned regularly and well-maintained. We rode the elevator to the third floor.
"I wasn't expecting you," Penelope said, recovering quickly from the flash of confusion that crossed her face as she opened the door to us. She was glancing at Solomon with unmasked curiosity, rather than the usual sultry looks he received from women. "Please come in. Is everything okay?"
"This is my colleague, Solomon," I told her. "Sorry to stop by without calling, but I hoped you could help us understand a few things."
"About Juliet? Of course. Take a seat," Penelope told us, directing us into a small lounge. "I'll be with you in a minute." She picked up a cleaning cloth and some polish that she'd been using before we interrupted her and walked into what I assumed was the kitchen. We sat on the couch, both of us looking around, taking in her home. The apartment was very neat with simple furnishings. She was clearly a fan of neutrals, judging by the shades of white, beige and soft grays. I spotted a lamp that looked similar to Juliet's and the same woven baskets holding children’s toys. I looked around for photos, but couldn't see any. I did notice some prints with positive thinking messages in typeface. One told us to "Smile!" in bright pink letters on a white background.
"I was just cleaning," Penelope called through the open door. "I try to keep on top of it, but you know how it is with kids?" She appeared again, smiling. "Can I get you a drink? A snack?"
"No, thanks. We won't take up much of your time."
"Okay, so how can I help you?" she asked, sitting in the armchair with her arms folded across her legs. "Have there been any new developments?"
Solomon and I exchanged looks.
"What happened?"
"Juliet and Rob’s house was broken into last night."
"Oh, wow, that's awful! Are they okay?"
"They're fine."
Penelope pressed a hand to her heart. "You worried me for a moment. Was anything stolen?"
"No, just a few things moved around."
"Someone broke into their house to move things around?" Penelope frowned.
"It appears that way."
"How did they break in?"
"We haven't ascertained that yet," said Solomon. "There was no sign of forced entry."
"I don't understand... someone broke in without breaking in? And simply rearranged stuff around?" Penelope's voice contained the same disbelief as anyone else's who heard that story. Reduced to its most basic form, it did sound like a bizarre B&E. Once again, I thought the stalker was playing it smart by not taking anything, or leaving any evidence behind. Why would someone believe Juliet?
"That's what it looks like," I said.
"That's just so odd. I have to say, I'm worried about Juliet. This is all so strange. The mystery of the moving car. The house break-in that wasn't. The arrest..." Penelope trailed off, pulling a face. "She's so stressed, you know."
"It all
seems
very strange," said Solomon, taking over as I faltered. "Almost to the point of sounding unbelievable."
"I didn't want to say it, but I told Lexi only yesterday when we spoke, how odd I find it. I know Juliet is having a really hard time, and she's my friend, and of course, I love her, but all these weird stories... I'm afraid she's having some kind of breakdown, and I just don't know what to do to help her." Penelope dropped her head into her hands and muffled a sob. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for Rob, to see Juliet like that..." she mumbled from behind her hands. "I've told Juliet she has to go see a doctor. She has to get a therapist for all these... these... paranoid delusions!"
"Paranoid delusions?" I prompted as Penelope sniffled.
Penelope looked up. A tear slipped down her cheek and she hurriedly brushed it away. "I must sound like the worst friend, but I've tried to stand beside her through everything, even when all our other friends warned me..."
"Warned you?" I repeated before she could continue.
"Juliet sent some pretty mean messages to a couple of our friends. Really hurtful, nasty things. I tried to cover for her and said to them, she's just stressed, and she's not thinking properly, and she didn't mean it. It didn't help that Juliet wouldn't apologize and still claims someone else must have sent them. I mean, come on! We all need to act like grownups now. Her attention-seeking behavior is totally unacceptable. I know she's scaring Rob too."
"How do you know that?"
"We spoke yesterday. He said he was worried about her, but still believed her and wanted to support her. I told him he was a really good guy, but to be careful. Juliet is getting so unpredictable. I guess this break-in," she said, holding her fingers up to make air quotes, "is another symptom of her breakdown. She needs help sooner rather than later."
"Do you really believe that's what's happening?" asked Solomon. "Do you believe this is all in Juliet's mind?"
"I can't explain it any other way. I've really, really tried. Like I said, I stood by Juliet even when all our friends ditched her, but this most recent stuff... her arrest, the pretend break-ins... it's... it's getting crazy! I think Juliet has finally gone crazy!"
Penelope's words were still ringing in my ears as I presented myself at the front desk for Lancaster Friedland. Solomon had returned to the agency and I wasn't sure whom to feel sorry for most: Juliet because her world was falling apart, or the people she supposedly abused. With her personal life in tatters, and an alibi that the antenatal clinic did confirm, I felt compelled to find out exactly what happened in Juliet's professional life. Unfortunately, given the receptionist's stony look when I introduced myself, I already had a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t get very far. That was reinforced when Mark Lancaster, Juliet's boss, appeared. As he buttoned the navy wool jacket of his expensive-looking suit, I caught a peek of a Rolex on his wrist, and felt sure his shoes cost no less than a thousand dollars. Business was clearly good.
"Ms. Graves, I don't think I can help you," Mark Lancaster said promptly, taking me to one side of the busy lobby without inviting me into a meeting room, or shaking my hand. "You said Juliet engaged your services?"
"She did shortly before her arrest. Are you her boss? The Lancaster of Lancaster Friedland?"
"Yes, to her boss; and no, to the Lancaster. That was my grandfather. I'm sorry to hurry you, but I have an appointment in ten minutes. What did Juliet send you here for?"
"I'm looking into all aspects of her case and hoped you might be able to suggest who could be doing this to her."
"Let me stop you right there," Mark cut in. "I've heard this stalking story already and it's absolutely absurd. There is no way someone from the outside could infiltrate our firm's systems. We have the best firewalls money can buy, an excellent IT team, and all of our employees undergo mandatory safety training so they know not to share passwords with anyone."
"People make errors all the time. They use passwords that are too simple, and leave laptops unlocked, and hackers can infiltrate any kind of system."
"Not ours," Mark replied with an absolute certainty that dared me to prove otherwise. I dared... in my head, since he seemed so unwilling to believe any other possibility.
"Did you ever let Juliet work from home?" I asked, changing the topic slightly.
"Sure, all our employees do from time-to-time."
"So she was able to access the systems remotely?"
"Well, yes, but only from a secure laptop that she was issued. And before you tell me someone guessed that she used her first dog's name as a password, I can assure you that's not the case. Everyone on our staff is trained to use random strings of letters and numbers that are arcane and unguessable. Not only that, but we insist employees change their passwords every month."
"So theoretically, only Juliet could access her own desktop, email, et cetera?"
"Yes, although her assistant would have access too."
"The assistant who alleged Juliet fired her?"
"Yes, and you probably know Juliet claimed her assistant quit abruptly. Since neither of them could produce any proof, we had to settle with her assistant outside of court. Before you ask, yes! Juliet blamed that on the mythical stalker too!"
"Did you investigate whether the stalker could be real?"
"Sure, we did! Our IT team looked into it and they couldn't find any deviations to suggest that anyone other than Juliet sent her own emails and made her own trades. Let me be frank with you, Ms. Graves, I liked Juliet. She was a really good worker and she had great potential here, but I've seen it happen before. The trading floor is a stressful environment; and I've seen people burn out, screw up, and suddenly ditch their jobs before chasing their childhood dreams of running a lemonade stand and surfing all day long."
"Do you think Juliet just burned out?"
He fixed me with an angry look. "Maybe."
"When did you first start having problems with her?"
"When she kicked up a fuss over not getting interviewed for a promotion she didn't even apply for."
"What happened?"
"When I promoted another employee, a male, Juliet came to me, quietly and professionally. She asked me why she hadn't been interviewed for the job when she was more senior and better qualified. Truth was, if she had applied, she would have gotten the job. She was by far the better candidate, but she didn't apply. I couldn't give the job to her after I already made the offer. I thought she would sue."
"But she didn't?" I guessed.
"No, she just said there must have been some kind of error, assuring me she had applied, and hoped I'd consider her again in the future. She was really professional about it, but I think it left a bad taste in her mouth; I know it did in mine. I don't want my employees thinking I'm a sexist ass, and I sure don't want a lawsuit. We're an equal opportunity firm and draw the most excellent applicants because of that."
"Did you consider giving her a pay raise instead? One that would reward her skills and abilities?"
"It was mentioned in a management meeting that we could provide a raise linked to her performance, but then her trades went downhill. At first, I figured she was upset about the job and made a couple of mistakes. Things seemed to stabilize; then we got an alert about a rogue trade. Not just one either. We kept an eye on her, and things just kept getting worse."
"How so?"
"I think I've already said too much. I wish none of this happened. I really liked Juliet. She was a great team player, and a dream employee. I'm sorry it has to go down like this, but when you rip off a firm, costing us money, and attracting negative attention like this from illegal trades, everyone suffers."
"Everyone?"
"Rogue trades impact everyone! Her team, me, the people whose money she lost, and the money she gambled. Not only that, but we'll be fined crazy money for the insider trades that made profits. You know whose head is on the line now? Mine!" Mark snapped.
"I'd like to speak to her colleagues and her former assistant," I told him.
"No-can-do. We already brought in our own investigative team; and I don't want some myth-chasing PI interrupting their work."
"But..."
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Ms. Graves. I'm pretty sure I've just confirmed everything you already know, and I don't have anything more to tell you." Mark turned on his heel and strode away before I could tell him he didn't waste my time at all. What he told me was very useful, but I needed access to other people within the firm to corroborate my theories. Without that, and lacking the means to get past the receptionist discreetly watching me, there was no point in my staying; so instead, I simply turned and pushed my way through the glass doors. I went out onto the street, uncertain of what to do next.
A dot in the cloudless, blue sky caught my eye and for a moment, I stood there, watching the tiny plane climb higher before disappearing from view beyond the taller buildings of Montgomery's skyline. I wished I were on it. I bet Juliet wished she was on a plane too. An idea sparked in my head. After calling Lily, I asked her, "Want to go on a field trip?"
"I thought we weren't meeting until eight. Does this field trip involve snacks?" she inquired.
"Absolutely."
"Pick me up!"
~
"I really thought when you said 'field trip,' you meant shopping," moaned Lily.
"Shopping? For what?"
"Is that, like, the most ridiculous question ever?"
"Um..."
"Don't think too long. It's ridiculous! I have to buy things for the baby, and for me! I'm busting out of all my pants. I'm in a state of pants-mergency."
"We can go shopping soon. Maybe in there." I pointed to the airport as a plane swooped in low above us. We watched it through the windshield as it curved towards the runway somewhere beyond.
"You can't fool me," said Lily, "I know there's no shopping unless we check in. Are we checking in?"
"No, sorry."
"You owe me a day of shopping and carrying my bags and rubbing my tired feet."
"I don't remember marrying you."
"Fine, I'll let you off. I don't know how I can help you verify Juliet was here at the airport."
"You're here just for company."
"I feel so used."
Lily stopped moaning somewhere between the short stay parking lot and the airport terminal. That could have had a lot to do with my promise to go with her and shop for maternity clothes and accessories that would always fit, and very little to do with handing over the photos of Juliet allegedly trying to buy a ticket out of the country.
"I have a plan," said Lily, pointing to the blurred face of the check-in attendant. Solomon had the photo enlarged and the nametag read
Kimberley
. "Let's hunt her down and make her talk."
"Good idea, but let's not actually
hunt
her. Instead, we’ll ask politely if she's around and if so, can she remember actually talking to Juliet."
"And when she says no, we'll show her the evidence and catch her red-handed?" replied Lily, her voice full of enthusiasm for tackling the hapless attendant.
"Kinda, but we’ll show her the photo as a reminder in case that jogs her memory."
"Do you want to do good cop, bad cop?"
I pulled a face. "Maybe not today."
"Okay, fine. I can see I really got duped on this trip. I'll be the dumb, blonde friend instead, okay?" Lily tossed her mass of blonde curls and pretended to pop bubble gum. "What were you planning to tell the check-in attendant?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, the reason why you're trying to verify if it is Juliet in the photo."
"I... um... I don't know. I didn't think it through yet."
"We could say she was my lesbian lover and the baby I'm carrying came from her egg, and now she's abandoned me, and I need to find her because she's the only tissue match, and one of us needs surgery." Lily grinned at her story.
"Bit far-fetched."
"Do you think? Should we just stick with the runaway lesbian lover?"
"Let's stick with the suspected stolen passport."
"That's much less engaging."
"But much more accurate," I said as we passed through sliding doors into a cavernous space. It was like a warehouse, but countless people were intersecting each other, all toting luggage. Several lines stood dozens deep, and echoing over all the chatter was a baby's wail. I turned around, searching for the desk where the photos were taken, finally spotting it on my second spin.
"Over there," I said, grabbing Lily's wrist and tugging her behind me.
The passenger being served stepped away as we approached. I plastered on a smile as I stepped into his vacated space. "Hi, we're looking for Kimberley," I told the young, uniformed desk clerk.
"She's taking a break right now. Can I help?"
"No, thanks. What time is she returning?"
He checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes."
"Thanks." I turned to Lily. "We can get a coffee while we wait."
"Oh, yay. Decaf. So glad I came," huffed Lily.
"There's a smoothie bar."
"Party central!"
I bought Lily a mango smoothie and got a mixed berry for me. We were sitting on plastic chairs where we could watch over the desk. We observed the male clerk serving several people, all apparently buying last minute tickets.
"Solomon asked me to move in with him."
"Shut! Up!" screamed Lily causing several neighboring tables to turn and look.
"He did. He thinks it's time for the next step and says I should move into his house."
"Good call. You already have the keys; and his house is huge. Will he give you a guest bedroom for a closet? Do you need to go shopping to buy new stuff to fill your huge, new closet?"
"I haven't said yes yet."
"Why not? I thought that was what you wanted?"
"Yes, but I guess... with all the things happening at work, I guess I thought I'd be more settled before taking a step like that."
"Settled? How so?"
"Like, we'd still be working together."
"You are working together," Lily pointed out. "He just isn't signing your pay checks."
"True, but I thought I'd feel more stable in my job. I thought I'd still be at his agency, solving interesting cases, and moving in together would be a natural development from that. Instead, I'm struggling to find paying gigs, and trying not to beg for my old job back."
"I thought not working together improved your relationship?" Lily pursed her lips around the straw, making happy noises as she slurped her smoothie. "You said you don't talk about work as much."
"We don't. Until now anyway."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I don't feel equal."
"Why? Because he has his own agency with employees, a fat bank account, and a big house in a great neighborhood?"
Talk about hitting the nail on the head
. "Yes."