Authors: Camilla Chafer
Thankful for the change in topic, I grabbed my phone and brought up my email program. Sure enough, there was a waiting email from Solomon with "airport surveillance" in the subject header. I opened it. There were three photos embedded in the airmail. The first was an airline ticket in Juliet's name. The second showed the rear view of a woman standing at the counter. The image was grainy, but I could make out Juliet's haircut and she wore the same jacket I'd seen her in when she came to my office. The third was a side profile view as she bent down to get something from her purse. It looked like Juliet; and could have been Juliet. But the quality was too grainy to be absolutely sure. I could see why the police jumped in to arrest her. Buying a ticket to another country was clearly a nasty sign.
I tapped
reply
and typed
Front view? Passport?
Knowing that my questions would almost certainly produce further evidence of Juliet's guilt, I sent it anyway. Solomon didn't keep me waiting long, as a new email appeared.
No clear front view
, he typed,
and the ticket was booked using Juliet's passport.
"Doesn't it seem kind of stupid to book an escape ticket in your own name?" I asked Lily.
"Seems kind of stupid to do something so illegal you could go to prison for your kid's entire childhood."
"Yeah, but... Juliet seems so smart. If she were guilty, I can't see her doing something so stupid that could get her caught so quickly." I took another look at the photos, and my heart sunk. "It does look like her though. It's her jacket and her hair and her passport."
"But is it her face?"
I looked at the photo again, squinting. It was too fuzzy for me to be entirely sure it was she. Annoyingly, it was also too fuzzy to say it wasn't. "I don't know."
"Want to go ask?" Lily pointed towards the house before dropping her hand to her bump again. "Hey, it kicked!"
I put my hand back on her belly, feeling the light ripples. "No, I think they've been through enough today. I don't want to level any more accusations at them before I’ve had a chance to check it out." I hit
speed-dial
, watching Solomon's name and face flash onto the screen. He answered with a simple, "Hey."
"Hey, yourself."
"Social call? Picked a movie for later?"
"Business."
"Fire away."
"Don't you think it's one hundred percent stupid of someone to book an escape ticket using her own passport?" I asked, hoping for a better response than Lily’s.
"Totally, but who else’s would she use?"
"I don't know. If she made tons of money, couldn't she have bought a passport on the black market?"
"Does Juliet look like someone who knows her way around the black market?"
I glanced towards the quaint house on its neat lot. "No, but that doesn't mean she can't."
"If you're trying to convince me of her guilt..."
"I'm not," I cut in hurriedly, "I'm trying to say I smell a rat. It's too convenient. Too easy. Juliet is too smart to make a stupid mistake like that."
Solomon was quiet a moment and I imagined him pondering my reply thoughtfully. Personally, I used the free time to add a swipe of raspberry lip gloss and check my mascara. "There's a valid argument there," he said. I wasn't sure if that was an endorsement or not, but my spirits lifted. "But I've had the photos analyzed, and they can’t exclude her either. If anything, it's just more ammunition a prosecutor would use to say she was planning her escape."
I sighed and asked the only thing I could. "When can I see your file?"
"Thought you'd never ask. Stay over tonight and you can read everything in the morning."
"Are you blackmailing me? A good time in return for access to your stuff?"
"Is it working?"
"Yes. I'm definitely in."
"Then call it whatever you like. And Lexi, you can access my stuff anytime." Solomon hung up.
"Rude," said Lily as she giggled. "So how long are we going to sit here and stare at the house?"
"I don't know. I can't do it twenty-four hours a day. Even with you and Ruby helping, that's eight hours each, and the neighbors already called the police on me. Plus, we all have other jobs."
"Who responded to the police report?"
"Your husband."
Lily laughed and wrinkled her nose. "My bladder says no to eight hours." When she turned to me a few minutes later, there was a spark in her eye, which worried me. "You know who we
could
call to help."
"You know someone?"
"Yes. Someone from my spy class at the Adult Ed Center."
My stomach dropped; and I instantly had a bad feeling. Just to verify my hunch that Lily was suggesting what I most feared, I asked, "Who?"
"Your mom!"
Despite having consent to review Solomon's stuff, I still lacked access to his surfeit of databases and programs. Sure, there were a few things on my laptop I could use, but nothing made up for actual law enforcement gateways to the really juicy stuff, no matter how dubiously they were procured. The juicy stuff was what I hoped to access as I walked into the FBI's Montgomery field office and waved to Agent Maddox.
Maddox and I previously had a long, complicated history, involving several dead bodies, numerous crimes, and a lot of nakedness. Being my ex was one thing, and now that he’d become my friend, it was another. We met on my first case when he was working undercover as my boss in a bid to break a big insurance scam. I unwittingly stumbled across the big boss's fresh corpse. Not only did I manage to get us out of the building before his killers returned for us, but I also proved instrumental in solving the case. A case which equated to millions of dollars in fraud and multiple murders. Our relationship was great, until we eventually split up over an awful misunderstanding. I stayed mad at him for a long time. Thankfully, the days of being angry were over now, and a genuine friendship sprang up between us. When it came to advice on any financial crimes cases, he seemed like the best person to ask.
"Long time, no see," he said, walking into the lobby. I rose from my chair to greet him, not surprised when he embraced me with a warm hug, which I eagerly returned.
"Yeah, not since last week."
"Feels like forever. What can I help you with? Does it involve food? I'm hungry."
"Sorry, no; and you're always hungry. I'm working a case and I need some input."
"Solomon can't help?" he asked, not even blanching at his name. He and Solomon once were colleagues, if not exactly friends, but their relationship now was little more than civil. My being in the middle had a lot to do with that, but I was pretty sure I wasn't the sole cause.
"He's working the other side of the case."
"Ouch!"
"Neither of us knew until my client, his target, got arrested."
"Awkward. Come into my office and tell me how I can help," said Maddox without any trace of glee. I wondered if Solomon would be just as calm when he inevitably found out I asked Maddox for help.
"I need background checks on my client and the people around her."
"Do you think she did it?" he asked, walking me through security and over to the elevator.
"No," I said as the doors opened and we stepped inside. They slid closed and we quickly ascended.
"What does the evidence say?"
"The evidence says she did," I admitted because I couldn't deny it, even if I'd yet to review all of it. That didn't exclude the chance that evidence could be falsified, or incomplete, and Juliet was already suggesting the former.
"Interesting case."
"You're telling me."
I followed Maddox to his shared offices where he grabbed a chair and pulled it around the side of his desk, indicating that I take a seat next to him. I dropped into it, tucking my purse to one side, while he logged onto his computer. "How are things?"
"Good. I saw this Lily morning. She's helping me with surveillance."
"How're she and the baby doing?"
"Great. Three months left to go. I'm throwing her a baby shower next month. Lily suggested we invite your girlfriend."
"That's sweet, but I don't think so."
I frowned, wondering if I'd overstepped a boundary. Maddox was the first ex I'd ever been friends with, but it was purely that. Sure, I still found him attractive, but I never imagined us getting back together and had long ago stopped imagining what might have been. I had Solomon now and I was happy. Whatever Maddox thought about our friendship, or my relationship with Solomon these days, was another matter; and his girlfriend's opinions were still another matter. I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable with a genuinely friendly offer, or cause any offense, but I sorely suspected I might have inadvertently done so.
"Do you think it would be awkward?" I asked. "Or would it be more awkward not to invite her because you and I..."
"It would be very awkward since we split up," interrupted Maddox, not looking up from his keyboard.
"Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."
"Don't be. We just weren't suited for each other."
"That's a shame. She seemed so nice," I said, recalling the one and only time I met her.
"She was, but just not for me."
"You doing okay?"
Maddox glanced at me and grinned, seemingly not at all perturbed about his newfound single status. "Absolutely fine. Okay, give me some names."
"Juliet Hart."
"Juliet is
your
client?" he said, whistling. "I heard about her arrest from a buddy at MPD."
"Yes, and Rob
—
I guess that's short for Robert
—
Harvey. Rob is her fiancé."
"Okay," said Maddox, sliding over a lined pad of paper and a pen. "Write down their dates of birth and I'll run them. Should I look for anything in particular?"
"No, just general background checks. I don't think either of them is a criminal, but I'd like some more insight into their histories besides what their DMV reports and financial records can offer. I don't want to be surprised by anything lurking in their backgrounds."
"You can find out all kinds of stuff from their financials, you know."
"I know, but Juliet has been pretty candid about money. She emailed me copies of all her past year's bank statements and credit cards this morning. I guess I want to know as much about her as I can because all the evidence points to her guilt so far."
"Sounds like you have your work cut out."
"I do."
"You sure this isn't too much for you?"
"No!"
I might have snapped a little too loudly because Maddox gave me an odd look. Plus, he unfortunately just voiced my biggest worry about the case. What if I couldn't help Juliet? "Sorry, it's just a tough case. I appreciate your help," I told him as I gathered my purse upon standing.
"I'll call you in a day or two. Can't promise I'll have anything useful though."
"Anything helps," I said, trying not to sound as weary as I felt. My gut might have told me one thing about Juliet, but my intuition wasn't enough. I needed real help on this case to provide Juliet with the proof she required for acquittal in her looming criminal case. It would have been so easy to give up in the face of such overwhelming evidence, but what if her stalker did set her up? What if Juliet was about to take the fall thanks to a brilliant criminal mind, who posed as a stalker? I couldn't in good conscience let Juliet go to prison without at least trying my best to help her. Not just her, I reminded myself, but her fiancé and their unborn baby too. Didn't they deserve my best efforts too? It wasn't just Juliet that stood to lose so much; there was a small family too.
"You know I can't get too involved. This isn't a federal case; and I don't have any kind of jurisdiction," warned Maddox.
"I know, but you handle financial crimes better than anyone I know, so I thought your insights would come in useful."
"You could call on a bunch of other people for that kind of stuff," Maddox pointed out. "Solomon, for one..."
"Like I said, he's working for the other team. You know, the one that intends to send Juliet to prison."
"Garrett?" Maddox tried again.
"I tried him already and all he could tell me was Juliet had been flagged on the system and I can guess why now. Plus I owe him big time in babysitting. I think I've exhausted all my favors. Besides, he's on homicide and no one's been killed." I paused at Maddox's widening eyes. "Did you just look hopeful?"
"No! What about Detective Donahue? You know, the one who hit on your cousin at..."
I cut in, "He's the one leading the task force that arrested Juliet!"
Maddox sighed. "I see why you came to me."
"That, and —" I waved a hand at his computer " —you have all these fancy-shmancy databases."
"Even fancy-shmancy databases can't come up with anything if the person isn't in the database. All I can do is run your names through every file I can think of and make up a report."
"I owe you one."
"At least it will be fun for me."
"You're not having fun every day?" I teased.
"Honestly, Lexi," Maddox started quietly, "this job is not what I expected."
"What do you mean?"
"I... it doesn't matter. Forget I said anything. And remember: I
will call
you on that favor next time I need an external consultant."
I wanted to press him further on the job issue, but he clearly wasn't inviting any questions so instead, I said brightly, "I like the sound of that. Can I print FBI Consultant on my business cards?" That should help my business in a big way!
"No, but you can tell people
quietly
."
I thanked Maddox, being purposefully quiet as he walked me out of the office. He assured me, yet again, that he would call me as soon as the reports came back. I didn't dare raise my hopes, however. Like he said, there was little chance anything would turn up on Juliet or Rob, and I didn't expect it to. I didn't think she was a criminal mastermind, and given Rob's apparently healthy relationship with her, and his ex and their child, I doubted very much that he was some kind of control freak, evil boyfriend who got off by terrorizing his partner. No, I expected to find zilch, but I had to try anyway. What kind of PI would I have been if I didn't dig further into my client's background?
As I approached my car, my cell phone beeped with a text message from my mom, asking me to swing by her house. With a couple more hours before I was due to relieve Lily from her surveillance shift, I texted her back that I was on my way.
My parents’ house is in West Montgomery. It’s a neat white house with yellow trim that invariably reminds me of an egg. I was raised in that house, and fought with my siblings, defied curfew, and skinned my knees on the sidewalk outside. Despite only living a few miles away, I didn't get home often enough. The regular family dinner was something I looked forward to with a mixture of eagerness and fear, but Mom had yet to notify us of the next one. I figured she'd be pleased when I showed up so quickly.
I spied my dad first as I entered the house, and followed the sounds of hammering that echoed from the kitchen. Dad stepped out of the kitchen, half-soaked, his hair plastered to his head, and holding a wrench. "What happened?" I asked, taking in the sight. "Wet t-shirt contest gone awry?"
"Ha-ha. A pipe burst in the ceiling and the kitchen flooded. I tried to get it to hold," he said, lifting his other hand, which held a reel of sodden duct tape, "but it exploded over my head just when I got it taped up." He began to shiver.
"At least, it was cold water," I said, shuddering at the thought of scalding water spilling over my father.
"Yippee," said Dad, looking the exact opposite of his exclamation.
"Let me get you a towel."
"Just get my robe from my bedroom," he said as I started up the stairs, careful to step around the puddle pooling at his feet.
"Where's Mom?" I called as I headed up.
Dad's voice floated up after me. "Ogling the plumber."
"Steve!" yelled my mom. How she heard my father's complaint over the sounds of gushing water and hammering, I didn't know, although I was well aware of her supersonic hearing. At least, now it wasn't scuppering my teenage plans of escape and subterfuge anymore.
"Sorry, dear," sniffed Dad.
Stepping into my parents’ bedroom, I looked around for his robe. The bed was neatly made in plain linens, an aged comforter folded at the foot. It looked like they redecorated recently because the walls were a pleasant, pale blue and the wardrobes looked new. There were several photos of the two of them on my mom's vanity. In every one they held hands; from their marriage photo to a recent picture I recognized from Lily and Jord's wedding. If I ever got married, I hoped it would be like theirs, I decided, as I turned around, finding Dad's robe hanging on the back of the door. I grabbed it, as well as a towel from the bathroom, and hurried downstairs.
"Thanks, sweetheart," Dad said as he took it. "Your mom's waiting for you."
"Does she need a robe?" I asked.
"No, she didn't get a drop on her."
"Lexi, is that you?" Mom called.
"Coming!" I found my mother standing at the entrance to the kitchen, plumbing tools in hand. "What are you doing with those?" I asked.
"Holding them for this nice, young man. Arnie, this is my daughter, Lexi. The single one," she added in a whisper that was anything but soft.
"Hi," said Arnie, turning slightly from where he was balanced on the countertop. His t-shirt was soaked through too, plastering the thin fabric to a wide, well-defined chest, and a set of biceps that rippled as he flexed his arm with the long pipe wrench in his hand. Water showered around him. No wonder my mother was looking on with unabashed glee. It was like the male version of
Flashdance.