Authors: Camilla Chafer
"I must be honest with you. I convinced Juliet to see a therapist about all of this."
"She didn't mention that."
"She's embarrassed. She doesn't want anyone to think something is wrong with her... you know, mentally."
"Do you think something is wrong with her?" I asked, searching his face for some kind of clue that he wasn't the supportive fiancé Juliet believed he was.
Rob paused, his lips twisting at one side. "Juliet loves her work, but it can be highly stressful; and she's planning our wedding too. Did she tell you she's also pregnant? I think it's all too much for her. I'm worried that she's having some kind of delusional trance, and she's doing stuff without knowing she's doing it."
"So why did you install the home alarm system?"
He looked directly at me, and his face grew stern. No, not stern.
Worried.
He was desperately worried. "Because if I'm wrong, and I might be... if someone's doing this to her, then she could be in danger. I will do anything to protect her."
"Anything?"
"
Anything."
I wore pink pajamas with little, winged pigs printed on them. They weren't sexy, but very comfortable as I curled up on my couch, some toast on the plate next to me, and perused my notes. The more I thought about it, the more I decided this case wasn't the kind I could solve easily; but wasn't that what I wanted? Something juicy? Well, I asked and the universe delivered; this was going to be a tough one. From what Juliet told me, it seemed like her stalker was being very careful to mess with her, but in ways that were little, and almost insignificant, until, like Juliet said, all those little things combined together to make one very big problem.
Grabbing my phone, I checked my emails one more time. Juliet still hadn't sent over the list and I wondered what was taking her so long. Perhaps the incident list was longer than she thought; or maybe she couldn't think of a single person who gave her unwanted attention to write down. From first impressions, she seemed a nice person, so I thought the latter was more likely the case. Switching off the email app on my phone, I checked my notes again.
Written on the first sheet was
Who?
I followed it with
spurned lover, ex partner, jealous friend, angry friend, angry or jealous relative, stranger.
All, but the very last would be easier to investigate, and all warranted a big question mark. A stranger would take much more work and surveillance, and I lacked both the means and the opportunity to watch Juliet all day long. Gone were the days when I could tag team with a colleague on an in-depth job like this. I was on my own now, and that made it even tougher. I probably could have called Solomon and requisitioned one of my former colleagues, but pride stopped me. That, and the possibility that he could say no; I wasn't sure what I would do with that.
I turned the sheet as I stuck the pen in my mouth, chewing the plastic tip.
Why?
That was almost impossible to answer. Stalkers rarely needed any reason. Anything could set them off; and sometimes, they didn't even realize they were doing it, or so I'd heard them claim. Sometimes, they even thought the attention was warranted, as if it were a fun game that their victim secretly enjoyed. I added a big question mark to the whole page and started a new sheet.
This time I wrote
How? Did the stalker have access to Juliet's home? If so, how did he or she acquire keys? Builder?
I wrote. Then
, tradesman?
I planned to ask Juliet about that. If she had any work done on her home, perhaps she trusted her workers to come and go, giving them plenty of opportunity to access her house and her car keys.
Car keys?
I wrote on the next line. Juliet claimed someone moved her car. It seemed unlikely that a thief would steal her key, then her car, only to park it several spots away. The purpose of moving her car only spaces away purely to mess with her seemed more probable. Yet with only two sets of car keys, and the other set being held by her fiancé who was ostensibly out of town, I had to assume either her key was copied, or the other key was stolen at some point and returned without either Juliet or Rob noticing.
Flipping through my notes one more time, I felt a cold shiver blast through my torso. For the stalker to have succeeded in all the creepy, little games I knew about so far, they had to be really smart and really sneaky to avoid getting caught. Most likely, they were growing very confident in their harassment. Far from being a Mom-and-Pop case, I knew I had my work cut out.
Much as I wanted to stay in my pajamas, under a blanket and eating toast all day, I couldn't. Juliet depended on me to help her end this creep’s fascination with her and I had more investigating to do.
Heading upstairs to the bedroom in my bungalow's attic space, I cast off the pajamas and reached for sky blue pants, a cute, white sweater and cream flats, perfect for whatever kind of day I might end up having. My notes safely in my purse, and my mascara superbly applied, I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. I had to remind myself not to be so vain before heading out to my car. I pointed it in the direction of the coffee shop where Juliet's car mysteriously moved four spaces over. If I were lucky, I might find someone who could remember Juliet, or the car.
The coffee shop was quiet this midweek morning and the parking lot that serviced it, along with a hardware store, a travel agent, and a couple of smaller businesses, was almost empty. Like Juliet, I parked in front of the fire hydrant. For a few minutes after parking, I simply watched what was going on in and around the glass-fronted coffee house. The lunch crowd hadn’t started filtering in, and it wasn't a large enough establishment that parents with strollers could meet and chat. A few people passed by, shopping bags in hand, and a couple of loud guys in suits jostled each other on the sidewalk before entering the coffee house. They returned only minutes later with takeout cups. I saw my cousin walking the beat and we waved. I didn't see anyone overtly suspicious, but that didn't surprise me.
Climbing out of the car, I walked across the small lot and entered the coffee shop via a glass door. I ordered a latte to go. While I waited for the server to assemble my drink, I took in the painted wood tables and knock-off designer chairs. There was a notice board near the entrance with flyers for local businesses, hobby clubs, and tutoring services. Standing by the notice board, I couldn't see the fire hydrant or my car, so I walked a few steps forward. The two became visible once I reached the tables situated by the window. One was occupied by a pair of women who looked like a mother and daughter, but the other tables were empty.
"Latte for Lexi," called the server.
"Thanks so much," I replied when I reached the counter, hoping the bored look on the server’s face meant she'd be happy to indulge in a little gossip. "I had to check my car was still there. You know, my cousin’s car was stolen from just outside last week!"
"No! That's awful," she murmured, giving me a sympathetic look. "Did she get it back?"
"No. She had to take the bus all the way home."
"That sucks."
"I don't suppose you have any security cameras here? Maybe looking over the parking lot? The insurers say they need more information, or they might not pay out. I'd hate for that to happen to someone else too."
"No, sorry."
"Not even one inside?
Again, she shook her head. "Maybe we should. I'll mention it to my manager. He had his car stolen last year from right outside his house."
"Good idea. He wouldn't want his customers to be worried about someone stealing his customers’ keys while they ordered coffee. Really bad for business." I pretended to browse the glass case of muffins and cakes. The server pulled a face as my story sunk in.
"Is that what happened? Ohmygosh!"
I nodded. "Yeah. Thieves are so brazen. She thinks they got the keys from her purse when she sat down to drink her coffee."
"Oh, wow! That really is awful," she said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. The two women were deep in conversation and oblivious to us. "I'll definitely mention it, but you know, we have a sign over there saying we're not responsible for customer belongings. I don't want to get into any trouble, and if your cousin is going to sue..."
"Oh no, no, of course not. She doesn't blame you guys one bit. I just thought I'd ask," I scrambled for words, knowing I was losing her the moment she began to deny any wrongdoing and started worrying about covering her own ass. "Do you have a bathroom?"
"At the end of the corridor," she said, pointing to the rear of the counter before turning to address the next customer. Stepping around the corner of the counter cut my car from view and partially obscured the window tables. A few more steps, and the window tables were obscured too. By the end of the corridor, I couldn't see any of the seating area except for the small table closest to the door. The rear exit was locked and the bathroom was windowless.
The only exit was through the front door. If Juliet's keys were lifted and replaced while she was in the small coffee shop, how could she not have noticed anyone? They had to have bumped into her twice.
Back in my car, the coffee cup deposited in the cup holder, I called her.
"Can you speak privately?" I asked when she answered.
"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?"