Текст книги "Trigger Snappy"

Автор книги: Camilla Chafer

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

The supermarket aisles were full of people who didn't seem to understand how desperate my situation was. Never having cooked for so many people before, never mind shopping for the groceries, seeing aisle-after-aisle of produce left me confounded. Just what could one person cook for a huge family that could easily have eaten for the whole nation? That thought reminded me, did I have enough forks? And why didn't I borrow the menu from O'Grady's for inspiration when I had dinner there with Lily the previous night? Or do the grocery shopping earlier in the day? Instead, I was busy scouring Juliet's phone records, looking for connections.

Pushing the cart forwards, I frowned at the vegetables, anxiously waiting for creativity to strike. Instead of a smart recipe whirling together in my mind, the only image I had was the wounded expression on Juliet's face. After Solomon, Delgado, and I dropped the bombshell that we thought her best friend was behind all her recent calamities, and no, we had absolutely no proof, I wasn't eager to return. Of course, Juliet insisted that we look elsewhere for another suspect. Currently, I was still her best and only shot at proving her innocence and identifying the stalker. I hoped she realized that, and preferably, without firing me first.

Since my inspiration still wasn't available, and haute cuisine wasn't one of my strongest skills, I resorted to snatching a stem of baby cherry tomatoes, along with a couple bags of potatoes. I threw in a sprig of chives for a potato salad, adding carrots and cucumber for crudités as I moved past. Solomon was right; easy finger food was my best option. I just wasn't sure how much of it to buy. Thankfully, I did know an expert in large-scale cooking.

"Hi, Mom," I said, when she answered her phone.

"Alexandra, dear."

Uh-oh. I knew my full name meant trouble of some kind. "That's me," I said simply. "I'm at the market and I need your help."

"Really? Did you call 911?"

"No. Why?"

"You're not being held up?"

I looked around at the small array of people browsing the shelves. None of them looked armed. "Not right now," I told her.

My mother breathed a sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure. I assumed you were in trouble."

"Trouble doesn't follow me everywhere I go!"

"I think you send trouble an engraved invitation."

"Trouble never RSVPs. Actually, I need help with the dinner."

"Dinner? Are you cooking for Solomon? Enticing a man's stomach is the best way to his heart. Perhaps you should cook more often."

"No, and I cook plenty, but he cooks better. It's about our family dinner. I'm shopping and I don't know how much to buy. Or what ingredients."

"Ingredients?" My mother's voice came in a breathless whisper. "Did you hear that, honey? Ingredients! Lexi is buying ingredients!"

"Who's that?" I asked as a muffled voice spoke in the background. "Is that Dad?"

"No, it's your sister."

"I thought we'd order Chinese," said Serena, louder so I could hear her over the phone line. "Alexandra plans to cook? With ingredients?"

"We're not ordering Chinese," I told them.

"Serena wants to know if we should bring the takeout menu anyway?"

"No!"

"She also wants to know if you're done with Antonio yet?"

"I think he's on the surveillance shift, but she could have called him, herself, to ask. What's the rush?"

"We're having dinner together and we're waiting on him."

"I thought your kitchen was ruined?"

"It is. Serena is taking your father and me to Alessandro's."

"And the baby?"

"Victoria, too. She loves their spaghetti."

"Sounds nice."

"I have to go, but let me know if you need me to bring anything for dinner. You'll do fine. Bye, honey!" My mother hung up before I had a chance to quiz her on how many volumes to buy. Instead, I pulled a face at the lonely produce in the cart and pushed on.

An hour later, I had everything I could think of from brand new napkins to paper party plates and plastic forks for my nieces and nephews. I added a few bags of chips and rolled my cart to the clerk, trying hard not to wince as I handed over my card in return for several bags of food that wouldn't last more than an hour. I had to lean against the cart's handlebar to get it to roll out of the supermarket, pointing it towards my car while hoping the momentum would keep it going. I loaded it all into my trunk, returned the cart, and headed for home, wondering about the surveillance on Juliet and whether the new security cameras managed to catch anything yet.

I tried to find a solid connection between Penelope and the stalking incidents, but drew blanks at every turn. Same with the emails Juliet claimed she never sent to work colleagues, and the rude texts to her friends. Everything was circumstantial, at best. At worst, the evidence was non-existent. I even accessed Rob's emails (with his permission) and read through his messages with Penelope. There was nothing that indicated they were anything more than co-parents now; no suggestions or pleadings to get back together, no cruel jibes aimed at Juliet, or his relationship with her, nothing but pleasant exchanges about Robbie's schedule. A cursory check of the trash file didn't reveal any deleted messages from either of them. Not that it meant anything; even I knew verbal conversations could tell a different story, if one or both of them were being careful.

I hated the suspicions about Rob that entered my head once more. He seemed to dote on Juliet so much, and was so looking forward to having a family together. No, he didn't seem like the kind of man who’d want to go back to the ex. From what he claimed, Juliet fully provided the life he wanted with the woman he loved. It was hard not to feel envious of the couple who seemed to have it all.

As I turned onto my driveway, again I wondered if jealousy were the motive. Some people just hated seeing successful people who had something they couldn’t find or achieve. Fortunately, I didn't think I'd be the recipient of those kinds of feelings as I dragged my shopping bags into the house.

My refrigerator groaned with so much food, it took two good slams to close it shut properly. I breathed a sigh of relief that my shopping task was done. All I had to do now was cook the stuff, serve it, and clean up before I could consider my familial duty finished. At least, Garrett was bringing dessert so that was one thing off my mind. All I wanted to do now was kick off my boots, get in the shower, pull on my pajamas and curl up in front of a movie, calm in the knowledge that Juliet was being watched like a hawk.

I was just toeing off my boots in the entryway when my cell phone rang. Garrett's name flashed on the screen. "Yo, bro'," I said.

"Yo yourself. Sam has chicken pox so we can't make dinner."

"Are you kidding? Is he okay? Hey, is this like the time he used red marker all over his body and pretended to have chicken pox?"

"Nope, it's the real deal. I checked. The kid looks like a plague victim."

"That's too bad."

"I checked with Serena and Victoria hasn't had chicken pox yet, and we don't want to infect her, so we're keeping the kids home."

"What about Patrick and Chloe?"

"Patrick had it when he was six, but Chloe hasn't. We're hoping she'll catch it from Sam."

"Is that a good idea?"

"If we want to minimize sick leave from work, yeah."

"Let me know if you need any medicine picked up?"

"We have an entire pharmaceutical shelf devoted to not itching, so we're good. I'm really sorry we can't make it. Serena said you were ordering Chinese for everyone."

"I am not! I'm cooking."

"Oh, well, gee, that really is too bad."

"I can cook!"

"I know that. Let me know what happens; and again, I'm sorry we can't make it."

I promised I would, wished Sam well, and hung up, dropping my phone onto the small console. I jogged up the stairs, walking into the bathroom where I switched on the shower. Just as I pulled off my blouse, the phone rang again. I ignored it. It rang again. On the third call, deciding it must’ve been urgent, I jogged downstairs and answered it.

"Hi, Juliet," I said, with some trepidation as I held my breath. This was the termination call, I was sure. Juliet had, no doubt, lost faith in me after my evidence-less accusation. She and Rob probably had strong objections about my rooting through his emails. Also, hadn't I told her not to use her personal cell phone?

"Lexi!"

I was on alert the moment I heard her breathless voice.

"Juliet? What is it?"

"There's someone in the house." Her voice was thick and fast, and her breathing sounded hard.

"What do you mean? We have cameras watching you every second! We would have picked something up."

"There's someone in here, I swear. I saw them. I saw a shadow and I called out. I thought it was Rob, but they didn't answer so I came up to the bedroom and I called him and he's still out. Then I heard something downstairs."

"Did you call 911?"

"No. Why would they help me? They think I'm some kind of master criminal. They think I'm making all this up."

"Where are you now?"

"The bedroom."

"Does the door lock?"

"No... I think I hear the stairs creaking."

My heart thumped. "Does your bathroom have a lock?"

"The attached bathroom does."

"Go in there now! Take the phone and lock the door. Don't leave until I get there."

"Please hurry."

"I'm going to put you on hold, okay? But stay on the line. I need to call Solomon's team." I put Juliet on hold, and dialed Solomon. Two calls. He didn't pick up either time. I called Delgado, and my sister answered.

"What is it?" she hissed. "We're at dinner."

"I need to speak with Antonio."

"He just went to the bathroom."

"Can you get him to call me back?"

"Alexandra, we're at dinner and he needs time off from running around fixing your problems."

"He's not fixing my..."

"You need to get your job back with Solomon. Then you'll have a team instead of getting my boyfriend to bail you out."

"He's not bailing..."

"Our entrees are here."

"Can you ask Antonio to call me..." Click. The line went dead.

I tried Solomon again, but still got no answer. It was pointless calling Garrett because he was on chicken pox duty. I tried calling Jord, but there was no answer and Daniel 's phone went directly to voicemail. I had no one else to call, and I didn't know whom Delgado left in charge of watching over Juliet's cameras, nor did I know who Solomon had posted outside, watching the house. Feeling utterly inept, both at my lack of knowledge about Solomon's orders, and annoyed at myself for being so focused on racing to the supermarket that I didn't think to ask those crucial questions, I grabbed my jacket. I zipped it over my bra and stuck my feet in my boots before unlocking the drawer where I kept my gun. I checked it was loaded, and tucked it into my belt. Grabbing my keys, and with my cell phone still in hand, I ran for my car. I made one final call for backup as I fired up the engine.

"Hey."

"Maddox?" I looked over my shoulder as I threw the car into reverse, backing up onto the street.

"Lexi? Are you okay?"

"I need help. I think my client is in trouble."

"What happened?"

"She's alone in her house and someone else is in there with her."

Maddox was silent for a couple seconds. "This is someone bad?"

"I think it's her stalker and I think I know who it is. I need backup."

"Give me the address."

I did that quickly and hung up, switching to Juliet's line. "Are you still there?" I asked. "Are you locked in the bathroom?"

"Yes," whispered Juliet. "I locked it. What took you so long?"

"Don't worry about that. I'm on my way with backup."

"I think they're in my bedroom. I heard footsteps."

"Whatever you do, do not open your door."

"Okay."

"And stay on the line. Under no circumstances, do you hang up. Got it?"

"Got it?"

"Good. Stay quiet."

I drove as fast as I could. Juliet's house was quiet as I stopped outside, gradually rolling to a halt. I wanted to screech my announcement, but I didn't want whoever was inside – and Juliet assured me somebody was – to realize my presence.

"Do you hear anyone now?" I asked.

"No. Where are you?"

"I'm outside."

"I haven't heard footsteps for a few minutes."

"Do not open the door," I warned her.

"I won't. I promise."

"Stay on the line. Backup's here."

"You called the police?"

"Not quite." Maddox's car rolled up behind mine and he got out, jogging over to me. I climbed out, noticing his weapon was already drawn.

"Give me the lowdown," he said.

"My client is locked in the upstairs bathroom off the master bedroom. She heard footsteps in the bedroom, but none for the past few minutes." We both glanced towards the house. All the lights were off.

"I don't see a flashlight," he said. "But that doesn't mean anything."

"I think the stalker knows his or her way around the house."

"Here's what we'll do..." Maddox stopped as a scream echoed down the phone.

"Juliet?" I yelled. "Juliet?"

"He's got an ax!" she yelled, no longer cautious at being heard. "I can see the blade in the door. He's..." she screamed again, her words lost.

"You go around back," Maddox commanded, already racing for the door. I followed swiftly, reaching the stoop as he pointed to the side of the house. "I'll take the front. Did you call someone else? Do we have backup?"

"I tried calling everyone. No one's picking up. Someone on Solomon's team is supposed to be watching the house, and we have cameras inside."

"So where is everyone?" Maddox tried the handle. It didn't budge. He threw himself at the frame and I heard something splinter.

"I don't know."

He rammed his shoulder against the door again. "Go!" he yelled.

I turned and raced away from the front door, hearing the door rupture as I reached the side of the house. "FBI," yelled Maddox. Whoever was inside had to have heard the door break. I edged around the house, ducking under windows. At the kitchen window, I slowly slid upwards, peeking inside. The kitchen was dark, but I saw a figure darting across the room towards the doors. I dashed forwards, seeing a person step outside, and launched myself at the intruder. I knocked the guy off balance and he went down with a grunt. We rolled across the deck and I got in a punch to the belly, which was met with a soft grunt and a fist to my face that soon had me seeing stars. Momentarily stunned, he pushed me off, scrambling to his feet as I flailed on my back, grasping for any kind of handhold to prevent his escape. I grabbed a fistful of coat and pulled hard, hearing the fabric rip, before the perp dropped to his knees, coming at me with his fists raised.

I scrabbled for my gun in my waistband with one hand as I tried to fend off the frenzied attack with my closed fist. All I could focus on was deflecting blows rather than landing any of my own. A kick to my ribs winded me as my hand closed around my gun's grip. "Stop! Or I'll shoot!" I groaned, raising the gun as another hard blow slammed into my cheek. My head snapped sideways, connecting with the deck. The figure started to scramble to his feet. I wrapped my ankles around one of his and pulled hard, knocking him off balance. He tumbled over me, landing a knee to my belly and dropping to the ground. The black knit mask distorted his features as we wrestled. I felt the fight change. I was no longer defending myself because he stopped trying to disable me. I made a huge error in announcing I would shoot. Now my assailant wanted my gun!

Fingers closed around mine on the handle, and I landed a soft, feeble punch to his belly as he yanked my hand and... a shot sounded in the quiet street. The body went soft, and for a moment, my breath was lost.

The body was still.

On my back, I relaxed just in time for the head to rear up and smash a fist into my cheek. Another thump stunned me, followed by a kick to my belly that sent bile climbing up my throat. I lay on my back, blinking, as the figure scrambled off and raced across the garden.

Groaning, I rolled onto my side, and pushed onto my knees. The moment I was back on my feet, I started running. The figure slipped from the shadows cast by the garage into the shadows of the tree. I raced forwards, catching sight of the perp as he scrambled over the fence. A soft thud on the other side told me he landed. In the low light, I searched for how he climbed over. A rain barrel lay on its side. I pushed it upright, scrambling upwards when another shot sounded.

A woman's scream followed it.

Amidst the heavy thudding in my chest, my heart skipped a beat.

Chapter Sixteen

I climbed over the fence, landing in a heap on the dirt. The alley was lit softly by moonlight away from the shadows of the houses, and the tall fences that separated the neat backyards. Trashcans sprang up periodically next to gates. There were no vehicles and no running assailants. Pained moans sounded as I crept forwards, keeping close to the fence, searching for the source of the noise. I didn't have to look very far. In the middle of the alley, a woman lay on her side, whimpering.

Taking a cautious look to the left and right, but not seeing anyone, I straightened, edging forwards as the woman rolled over and looked up at me.

"Lexi?" she whimpered, her bloodied hands clutching her leg.

I frowned as my jaw dropped. "Penelope? What happened?"

"Someone jumped over that fence and rushed me. He knocked me down and... and... I think a gun went off. I think I've been shot!"

"Shot?" I took in her dark jeans, black sweater, and ballet pumps as cold fear went through me. Did I shoot her in the scuffle? As I thought that, it didn't ring true... Where was the ski mask? And the dark jacket missing the material I ripped off it? Where were the boots that kicked me?

"It hurts so bad," Penelope moaned, tears rolling down her cheeks. She nodded in the opposite direction. "I think he took off down the alley. What happened? I don't understand! Why would someone shoot me? He didn't even take anything."

"It happened just now?"

"Yes. I've never heard a gun go off before. It was so loud!"

"Did you see who did it?"

"No, he wore a mask. I was just walking back along here and suddenly, there he was. I was taking a shortcut to Rob's house; and he, this guy, jumped over the fence and I think I must’ve surprised him. He lifted his hand and I thought he was going to mug me, until I saw the gun. I tried to knock it out of his hand, but he hit me and I fell, and then he shot me. I thought I was going to die. Am I going to die?"

I knelt beside her, taking another close look at her leg. Her jeans were damp, but there wasn't any spurting blood pooling around her. That was a good sign. "The bleeding is slow. I don't think any major arteries were hit."

"I need an ambulance," she wailed.

As soon as she said it, someone yelled my name before I heard a stampede of feet. A vehicle turned into the alley, flooding it with light from the high beams, almost blinding me before someone skidded to a halt next to us.

"Lexi, are you okay? I heard gunshots." Maddox panted as he slid to a stop in the dirt.

"I'm okay. I saw the person exiting at the back of the house. We fought, but he got away and raced into the alley. I chased him but I was too slow. Penelope surprised him and got shot," I told him quickly. "Is Juliet okay?"

"She's fine. One of Solomon's men is with her and the police are on their way."

"Who's that?" I asked, nodding to the car. The door opened and black boots hit the ground. The beam blinded me as to the boot owner’s identity, but moments later, Solomon was crouching beside me.

"You rushed an armed assailant?" he asked, running his eyes over me before glancing toward Penelope.

"He wasn't armed..." I stopped. Where the hell was my gun? Fear flooded me, followed by a wave of dizziness.

"You should have waited for backup."

"Maddox was my backup."

The two men nodded to each other. "You know I have the house under surveillance," said Solomon.

"They didn't see anyone break in, did they?" I didn't need to wait for an answer. I knew they hadn't, otherwise they would have protected Juliet faster than Maddox and I could have gotten there. "I called you first, but no one picked up; and Juliet needed help. I couldn't wait."

"What were you doing in the alley?" Solomon asked, his attention turning to Penelope. Another man joined us, dropping to the ground, with an emergency medical kit in his hand. Fletcher. I wondered if he were the one working surveillance.

"I was taking a shortcut and thought I'd save time by walking through the alley and going in through the side access to the house. I thought I'd drop by since I knew Rob was going out. I planned to keep Juliet company. Plus, Robbie is at my mom's and I had free time. I thought it was safe. Bedford Hills isn't exactly Frederickstown! Ow! Ow!" she whimpered as Fletcher applied a gauze pad to her leg with one hand while dialing 911 with his other.

I slowly got to my feet, feeling like I just ran a half-marathon without any training. The world spun around me and I blinked through the dizziness, relaxing into a pair of hard arms and a warm chest.

"You're hurt," Solomon said, his hands slipping down my torso. "And bleeding."

"It must be Penelope's blood," I muttered, glancing down at the oozing crimson on my side. Did other people's blood ooze?

Solomon unzipped my jacket and gently pulled it off. "No, sweetheart, you've been shot."

"Aw, crap. Again?"

"I think the assailant stole your top," he said as we both took in my pale skin and pink bra. He tucked my jacket around my shoulders and said something to Maddox. Maddox jogged over to Solomon's SUV, popped the trunk, and returned a moment later with a clean t-shirt for Solomon to slide over one arm. I drew the line at lifting the other after my skin burned with the stretching of my wound. Solomon tightened his arms around me. "You'll be okay," he whispered into my ear. "It's only a flesh wound. You were damn lucky, Lexi. Damn lucky he was a bad shot."

The ambulance was there in minutes. They loaded Penelope onto the bed inside, slipped an oxygen mask over her face, and herded us away. The EMT looked me over, and confirmed I wasn't ready to bleed out imminently, but advised me to get looked over anyway. He made no comment on my strange attire. But just as he was climbing into the cab of the ambulance, he told me I looked familiar and asked if he’d treated me before. I was afraid to reply honestly that he probably had.

"You know, if I'd known you were topless, I would have gotten here much faster," said Solomon softly. We were walking back to the house, his arm around me, carefully avoiding my padded side. The garden gate stood open. Maddox and Fletcher walked behind us as we headed for it while someone, I wasn’t sure who, kept a watch on the crime scene.

"Remind me to text you that in future. Anyway, I was getting a shower when Juliet called. I forgot to put my top on," I explained.

"And Maddox?"

"He's definitely wearing a top."

Solomon raised his eyebrow.

"I tried everyone; and I had no one else to call, so I called him and he met me here," I explained.

"Why didn't you alert my men?"

"I would have if I’d known who was running surveillance."

Solomon sighed. "It was Flaherty. I'll give you a copy of the rota."

"Thank you."

"They saw you at the porch when Maddox drew his weapon so they called me and followed you two. I got here as fast as I could."

"Where were you?"

"Meeting with Lancaster Friedland."

"And you didn't tell me?" I asked a little too loudly, but probably not nearly indignantly enough.

"It was a last minute thing."

"Did you learn anything?"

"Lucas is working with their IT department. He wants to narrow down all the trades made and match those timings to Juliet's location, which should have been at her computer. We've also added in the emails Juliet was purported to have sent to her assistant and a few other people. The list is long, so it's going to take a little time. Fortunately, the firm has good security; I'm hopeful we can definitely prove Juliet's whereabouts conflicts with the times and dates the rogue trades were made."

"So it no longer falls entirely on Juliet's passwords."

"We have to be realistic. Passwords are easy to guess, or hack. Getting Juliet's location is better. Lucas is also triangulating her phone records to determine more location data."

"So all he has to do is confirm Juliet was in another place to prove she didn't do it?"

"Yes. If we get a ping off a cell tower in one place, and she's supposed to be making a trade in her office building, we've got evidence in her defense."

"Surely whomever is doing this already knows those traces can be made."

"I'm not sure he or she thought it through. I think they were so intent on setting Juliet up, and possibly lacked enough technical nous to fully cover their tracks, that it didn't matter. I think they made a mistake somewhere. We just have to find it."

"You seem to believe Juliet."

Solomon made a non-committal noise. I figured someone breaking into Juliet's house had to be a pretty big clue she wasn't making it all up. My wound should’ve also indicated that, and I winced as I stumbled in the low light of the garden, glad for Solomon's arm when it tightened around me.

"Then why attack Juliet tonight?" I stopped, realizing exactly why. I could answer that and I did. "Because their plan isn't working. Juliet isn't abandoning all hope. She has plenty of support and they know it's only a matter of time until she's proved innocent and they're caught."

"I don't know about that, but we do know now that there is definitely a stalker." Solomon stopped and turned to me, gripping both my arms as he looked down at me. "And they could go down for attempted murder."

"Of Juliet?"

Solomon shook his head. "No, of you."

"My mother is going to be so mad at me."

"Let's go into the kitchen so I can take another look at that wound."

"I don't think Juliet will be happy about me bleeding all over her kitchen."

"I think she's grateful she didn't get murdered with an ax. That's thanks to you."

"And Maddox. He went in the front."

"As he should. He's better equipped for that kind of thing."

"Hey! I had a gun too."

"I meant, he's had years of training with MPD, and then with the FBI."

"Where exactly did you train?" I inquired as Solomon helped me through the French windows. He positioned me on a stool at the kitchen island as we heard a siren outside, along with the slamming of doors and running footsteps. I couldn't help wincing as he rolled up my t-shirt.

"Hold still," he said, stooping to peer at the wound. He prodded the skin gently as he peeled back the bandage someone pressed against my side. "Maybe a few stitches," he said.

I coughed lightly, waiting for my answer. "About that training?"

"Where do you want us, boss" asked Fletcher, stepping through the doors.

Maddox stepped through next, saying, "I'm going to talk to the police."

"Good thinking," said Solomon. "Fletcher, take a look around back. Lexi fought the assailant on the deck. See if you can find something useful before MPD take over."

"Got it," agreed Fletcher, stepping into the dark.

"I thought there were security lights outside," I said. "They didn't light up as we crossed the garden."

"There were. The bulbs were taken out." Solomon replaced the gauze before letting the t-shirt drop over it. He took my hand and placed it at my side, applying light pressure to the wound.

"And our cameras?"

"I need to look into that. Did you see them?"

"No, it was too dark and the perp wore a ski mask and dark clothing. Penelope said it was a man, only..."

"Only?"

"I'm sure whomever I fought with was a woman."

"What makes you think that?"

"Height, weight. Some of the punches were a little off. Strong, but not well-thrown, and lacking in clout."

"Could have just been a small guy. Or someone not used to fighting."

I shook my head. "No, whoever it was even felt like a woman. I was on the floor grappling with her, Solomon. I swear it had to be a woman."

Solomon glanced at the garden. Through the dark windows we saw the flashing light of the ambulance above the fences as it slowly made its way out of the alley. "Penelope?"

"I thought so at first, but it can't have been. This woman shot her too."

"Strange coincidence."

"Getting shot? Or that she was in the alley and got shot too?"

"Both. Penelope was our prime suspect."

"Ours?"

"Yours, but rapidly becoming mine too. Now she's another victim. It's weird. It feels off. A little too convenient."

"I thought that too, but she isn't even wearing the same stuff as the woman who shot me. Penelope was wearing ballet pumps, and my attacker wore boots. They had different jackets on too. Here, I grabbed a bit of it and it tore. Penelope's wasn't torn. Solomon, I think I got it wrong. I think I was too fixated on the idea it was Penelope because she had access; and I later thought her past relationship with Rob gave her motive. Juliet has the charmed life with Rob, and Penelope is a struggling mother. Isn't that reason to hate her? What if I got it wrong and that’s why Penelope got hurt too?" I sniffed my way to a stop, mortified at my mistake. How could I have done so badly and been so wrong?

Solomon nodded thoughtfully. To his credit, he didn't tell me I screwed up, or offer any platitudes.

"There's not much to see," said Fletcher, returning inside. "There's a little blood on the deck that I figured was Lexi's, and I found a boot print in the flower bed just below the deck. I'm guessing here, but it looks to me like a women's size seven."

"That supports your theory the assailant is a woman," said Solomon. "Anything else?"

"Nothing. My preliminary search didn't turn up any other prints; and I haven't found how they got in yet. I'm thinking there had to be an unlocked door or window."

I shook my head. "No, Juliet's been really careful."

"Then, perhaps a key?" Fletcher suggested.

"Juliet changed all the locks," I replied, looking up at Solomon. He didn't look happy. "They got another key? How?"

"Same way they got the last set," Solomon said, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't think Juliet has allowed anyone in the house since the locks got changed. Only she and Rob have sets. There was no spare key to steal."