Текст книги "Trigger Snappy"

Автор книги: Camilla Chafer

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"Hi," I said, shaking her hand again, "is now a good time?"

"Perfect. Thanks for driving out here. I appreciate it," she replied warmly, stepping back to allow me to enter. She held her own hands, sliding her fingers in and out of each other, but dropped them when she noticed me looking. "Nervous habit."

"It's no trouble. This is a nice area. Your house is very pretty."

"Thank you."

"Have you lived here long?"

"Two years," she replied, ushering me through to the living room. Two white couches sat on either side of a fireplace and there was a wall of books with a cozy armchair. Twin, woven baskets filled with toys were stuffed in the corner. I glanced at the books, surprised to see the young James Bond books and several other children's titles. "They belong to my stepson," she explained. "He's nine and a voracious reader."

"Does he live with you?"

Juliet shook her head. "Just every other weekend and half his vacations. He's a great kid. That's Robbie. The three of us went on vacation together last year," she said, pointing to a smiling photo on the mantel of a man and her, their arms both wrapped around a young boy.

"And that's his dad, your fiancé?"

"Yes. Rob. Rob Harvey. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, thanks. I thought we'd go over your case in more detail. I'd like to get a better snapshot of your life."

"I'm not sure how it will help you. I'm a very private person. I don't have a lot of family, friends, or any exciting hobbies."

"It doesn't matter. Someone's messing with you, and for me to find out whom, I need to discuss your lifestyle. I might notice something that you’d consider insignificant."

"Okay." She nodded, seeming to find that acceptable as she took a seat on the couch, indicating I should sit at the opposite end. "What do you need to know?"

"Tell me first about your fiancé. How long you've known him, where you met. That kind of thing."

"Rob and I met four years ago at a work-related event. He was presenting a seminar, and really impressed me. He was just great. He's a handsome man, but it was something else... charisma, I guess. We started talking and eventually got a drink in the bar; and then he asked me to dinner the following week... and we've been ‘us’ ever since. We moved in together after eighteen months. Six months later, we bought this place."

"Where were you both living prior to moving in together?"

"I had a condo in Chilton, and he rented a place in Harbridge until he moved in with me. I inherited some money from my grandparents and that, combined with the proceeds from the sale of my condo, enabled us to buy this house with only a very small mortgage."

"That's a smart investment."

"Thank you. We liked where we lived, but this house has a yard for Robbie, as well as a larger bedroom, plus guest rooms. It just made sense."

"Do you like your stepson?" I asked, knowing what her answer would be. People smiled when they talked about people they liked; and Juliet smiled when she mentioned anything about Rob and Robbie.

"Yes," she said, "but more than that. I love him. He's the sweetest boy and we've always gotten along. I can't imagine life without him. He's going to be a great big brother."

"You're pregnant?" My eyes dropped to her belly as I realized the reason for her interest in Lily's pregnancy.

"Yes, but only two months so we haven't told anyone. Robbie guessed, but he's sworn to secrecy until we tell everyone in a couple of weeks. We're waiting for that 'safe zone' before we announce it," she said, making little air quotes with her index fingers.

"So, would you say you were happy?"

"Yes, very. That's why I can't understand why anyone would do something like this to me."

"Sometimes that is the reason. Some people cannot cope with other people's happiness. It's like a big finger in their face, forcing them to realize their own inadequacies."

"Then they must be very sad."

"Can you think of anyone who would be really upset about you being so happy?"

Juliet shook her head, and shrugged, looking puzzled as she said, "No."

"When did you and Rob get engaged?"

"He gave me the ring on the day we got the key to this house. The first thing we did after moving our furniture in was invite our friends and family for a big party, which we later told them was our engagement party. Everyone was thrilled!"

"Do you have the wedding booked?"

"Next month. We pushed it forward so I wouldn't have to show a big bump under my dress. The baby was a surprise, but a very welcome one."

"Did anyone have an adverse reaction to that?"

"I'm not sure I understand. No one knows about the baby so... the engagement? Or the wedding?"

"Both, or either."

"Then no, everyone seems really pleased for us."

"Okay, so what I see so far is you have a happy, supportive family and friends, you celebrated two big events recently, namely, getting engaged and moving here, and you have two more big life events coming up. One, your baby, which is still a secret; and the other, your wedding, which is public knowledge."

Juliet nodded. "Yes."

"How's your relationship with your fiancé?"

"Fantastic! He's the kindest, sweetest man I know. He would move heaven and earth for those he loves; and he loves me and Robbie. He's thrilled to be a daddy again. I feel so lucky to have him in my life."

"You mentioned earlier he thought the stalking could be stress-related?"

"Yes, he's not convinced I'm being stalked, but..."

"Go on."

"I don't think he's convinced I'm not either. I've noticed he's being more watchful, and more careful."

"How so?"

"Little things, like... checking his keys are always in the same bowl on the console several times in the evening and... making sure I know exactly where my purse is, and how much money is in it... oh! And he's added extra security lights to the house and a home alarm system."

I made a note of that in my notepad, careful to keep my expression impassive. Those were not the actions of an unconcerned fiancé and father, despite whatever he might have said to Juliet. Until I spoke to him, and investigated further, I didn't plan on frightening her, which I would have by suggesting he seemed to consider her stalker very real. I tried to react in a way that would not frighten her. Instead I said, "That sounds sensible."

"He's a very sensible, practical man. I guess that's why I didn't get so worried until recently. Rob always found a perfectly rational solution to the things that were happening."

I made another note with a large question mark next to her fiancé’s name. I didn't want to suspect it, but my training insisted that I did. Just because this Rob guy seemed like the perfect guy to Juliet didn't mean he wasn't insecure and controlling. Who really knew if he wouldn't stoop to terrifying a woman in order to dominate her? Again, it wasn't a thought I voiced to my client. He could also be just as concerned as she, and just as innocent. I hoped to confirm my original supposition about him that he was merely worried.

"How long have you held your job?" I asked, glancing at my folder. She listed her job as finance manager. I wasn't sure what that meant.

"Six years. Two years in the position I have now. I was promoted the same week we moved and got engaged actually."

I looked up at the triple whammy good news. If someone were jealous of Juliet, her rush of good luck would definitely be seen as something despicable. It might have been two years ago, but someone could have let that jealousy fester. "Are you happy there?"

"It can be a tough job at times, but I enjoy it. Yes, I'm happy."

"Have you had any problems? An altercation with a colleague, for example, or your boss?"

Juliet shook her head. "No, I've always gotten along with everyone just fine. I was promoted after some very hard work and over-achieving, to the tune of two hundred percent above target."

"Was anyone else in the running for your job?"

"Yes, a guy called Olly. When he didn't get the job, however, he left and started his own firm."

"Do you think he became bitter about that?"

"Not at all. He became a huge success and just sold it for fifty million."

I dropped my mouth open. "Wow!"

"I don't think jealousy crosses his mind now, not while he’s sailing the Mediterranean on his mega-yacht," laughed Juliet.

"Poor guy!" I laughed along with her.

"I know!" Juliet paused, the worry returning to her face. "Lexi, is any of this helping?"

"It's a start," I told her truthfully, pausing my pen for a moment. "I'd like to speak to the people in your life. Perhaps they have some perspective that would prove useful to your case."

"You mean like Rob?"

"Yes, but also your family and close friends. Will that pose any problems?"

"Not at all but my parents are away on vacation in Europe until a week before our wedding and my brother lives in Canada so he can't help. They'll probably find it thrilling to talk to a real PI."

"Not everyone feels that way."

"Well, you're helping me, so I don't think anyone will mind. Everyone knows what's going on, and how much it’s worrying me. That is..." Juliet trailed off.

"Are they all being supportive?" I asked, my intuition telling me something was off.

"Yes and no. They listen, but what can anyone of them say? It's just... everything seems so little and insignificant, you know? Like, individually, it's easy to say 'I forgot this' and 'I must have not remembered that' or 'it was a technical error,' but put them all together... And some friends won't even return my calls! Lexi, I'm either going out of my mind, or someone is deliberately doing this to me." Juliet sat up a little, looking around me. I heard a car door slam, realizing she caught sight of something behind me. Whatever it was didn't seem to panic her. "Here's Rob. Sweetheart, we're in here," she called as the door opened.

"Hi," said the man who entered. He was six feet with dark red hair and a closely clipped beard. His eyes were warm green, and his face gentle. His suit looked expensive, as did his leather shoes.

Juliet reached a hand out to him and he took it, giving me a worried look. "Sweetheart, this is Lexi Graves, the PI. I asked her to look into things for me."

"Okay," he said, gazing from Juliet to me, apparently unsure what to say even if the news that I was a PI clearly came as no surprise. After a long moment, he held out his other hand and I rose to greet him, shaking it. "Sorry, I guess I was caught offguard. Juliet mentioned consulting someone. Are you able to help?"

"I think so, but I can't promise anything."

"How long will it take you to investigate?"

"That's not a question I can answer. I'm going to look into Juliet's background and I'd like to run some surveillance on you, Juliet... with your permission," I added, turning to her.

"Why on me?" she asked, frowning.

"I'd like to see what goes on around you when you're unaware. Perhaps I can match a face from the grocery store to someone skulking outside your workplace, that sort of thing."

Rob perched on the edge of the couch, next to Juliet and rested his arms on his crossed leg. "Forgive me for being so blunt, but isn't that kind of a crapshoot?"

"I never said it was going to be easy. Statistically speaking, most stalkers are known to their victims; but sometimes, it's a total stranger. Based on what Juliet told me, I think if she has a stalker, and there's enough strong, anecdotal evidence to suggest she does, then it's most likely someone she interacts with on a daily basis, or someone who sees her regularly. Whoever it is regards Juliet as very important and someone they are personally connected to, although they might be relatively insignificant in Juliet's world."

"So… it could be anyone?" Juliet asked, looking from me to Rob. "It could be a... a... grocery store clerk, or the man who walks the little dog past our house every morning... or... or..." she faltered.

"Here's what we'll do to start," I began before Juliet panicked. "I need you to give me a list of all the incidents you remember, including where they took place, and the date and time, as much as you can recall. Additionally, I'd like a list of your friends and family members, and your employer, if any incidents happened there, plus the names of anyone you might have had any altercations with. I'm going to start looking into those events and see if there are any connections."

"What about the surveillance?" asked Juliet.

"I'll start in a couple of days, after I've mapped the stalking events. We can try coordinating your activities with past incidents to see if that sparks anything else in your memory."

"Like retracing her steps?" asked Rob.

I nodded. "Like that."

"I can email you everything within a couple of hours. I already started keeping a log," Juliet told me. "I really appreciate you taking this on. I can't live like this anymore, not when I feel so suspicious of everyone. I just don't understand why this is happening."

"Don't worry about the why. Let me work on that. I'd appreciate the list as soon as it’s ready. You have my details."

"I'll walk you out," offered Rob. "Do you think this is serious?" he asked after Juliet and I said our goodbyes and he walked me to the curb. It was entirely unnecessary in a safe neighborhood like this, but he obviously wanted to talk out of earshot, and I couldn’t turn the opportunity down. Rob could have valuable insights, and I needed everything I could get. Juliet was right about her stalker being anyone, but I still hoped I could find some connections in the incidents that she reported.

"Could be," I said.

"That's not a yes or a no."

"My experience tells me Juliet isn't making this up. How someone is targeting her is the first thing I need to look into; and that should tell me who, and also why."

"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."

Chapter Three

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?"

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!"