"Is this a babysitting favor?" he asked, hearing my voice.

"No, but I could work up to that."

"Hmph," he replied. "Hit me with it."

"Can you check to see if there are any incident reports for a street in Bedford Hills. Blossom Road?"

"Give me a minute. No. Nothing in the past two years. There was a DUI three years ago. Interested?"

"Nope. Too far back for my client."

"What are you working on?"

"A potential stalking."

"Is it credible?"

"I think so."

"Has your client spoken to anyone at MPD?"

"Yes, but there hasn't been any serious incident yet; so there was nothing they could do."

"What's the name? I can take a look at the report."

"Juliet Hart."

I heard him tapping keys.

"It's quiet your end," I told him even though I was pretty sure he could use his own ears.

"We just solved a case and we're waiting for the next one to roll in."

"Depressing."

"Tell me about it... oh, hey, this is weird."

"What is?"

"Your client's been flagged. Let me call you back when I find out what's going on?"

"What do you mean... flagged?" I asked, but Garrett was already gone, leaving me with a dead line.

I frowned at my notepad, wondering what was going on at MPD, but I figured Garrett would call me back soon. While I waited, I made a list of whom I should interview: Penelope, Rob, Juliet's employer, her neighbors. When my phone rang, I picked it up without checking the screen.

"Lexi, it's me, Juliet." Her voice came in quick, panicked bursts.

"Are you okay?"

"No! They're taking me to the police station. I've been arrested! Please help me!"

Chapter Four

I waited in the Montgomery Police Department lobby for thirty minutes, a fashion magazine open and unread in my lap, until an officer arrived to talk to me. Detective Donahue came to Garrett's fortieth birthday party. I remembered him; he was fun and friendly and he flirted with one of my cousins.

"You're not Juliet Hart's lawyer," he said, approaching me without calling my name. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not that he remembered me. I hoped he didn't remember me dancing on a table.

I fixed him with a smile. "No, I'm not."

"Then what are you doing here? What's your interest? I hear you're a PI now, so is she a friend, or a case?" he asked, cutting straight to the punch.

"A case."

"Let's go somewhere and talk." He turned on his heel, walking away, leaving me no choice but to hurry after him as I stuffed the magazine into my purse. Instead of taking me to an interview room, he ducked into the squad room, grabbing a spare chair on the way to his desk. Setting it down beside his desk, he indicated I should sit as he took up his position behind his desk. "What's your involvement?" he asked. "And I mean honestly. No crap, Lexi."

I looked around the room before I answered, vaguely wondering whether or not to feel affronted at the suggestion I would give him a story instead of the truth. I'd already been in the financial crimes room before. My friend, and former boyfriend, Adam Maddox used to occupy the desk across the room. That was back when he was a detective at MPD. He switched to another squad after serving his time in financial crimes before becoming an agent with the FBI, but as I caught sight of his desk, it still reminded me of him. Instead of a pile of case files, the desk now was home to a coffee machine and a messy heap of paper cups. I wasn't sure how Maddox would feel about that, but I figured his desk at the FBI made up for it.

"Lexi?"

I turned my attention back to Detective Donahue. "Sorry. Juliet hired me because she believes a stalker is targeting her."

He gave me a long look that could have meant anything. "Do you believe her?"

"I only just started investigating."

"That isn't a yes or a no."

What was with people demanding absolute answers? I wondered; but I answered, "I'm veering more towards a yes, based on what she says, but I have nothing concrete to prove it. Like I said, I only just got the case."

"That's a fair comment."

"My turn. Why did you bring her in?"

"You know I'm only talking to you now because I know your family, right? Any other PI would be abruptly told to get lost."

I nodded. "I appreciate that."

"Okay," he said, leaning forwards, his bare arms pressing against the desk. I resisted the urge to reach over and adjust his crooked tie. "We were alerted to an insider trading issue at Lancaster Friedland, an investment firm, a month ago, and we've been quietly looking into it."

"At their request?" I asked. Juliet had listed the firm as her employer on my client sheet. I had a bad feeling about what Donahue planned to tell me.

"No, it came from higher up. Lancaster Friedland didn't call us in."

"How's Juliet involved in this?"

"The trail came back to her. We have a cyber trail proving she got tipoffs about a few major moves, and later acted on that knowledge to trade. The stock she bought skyrocketed, making millions; and in a couple of cases, she lost a few hundred thousand."

"She lost a few hundred thousand?" I gasped.

"Chicken feed in her job. That's not the issue. We're looking at the money she made."

"I don't understand. Making money is a good thing."

"Not in this case. Traders can't use information that isn't freely available to the public. We've found evidence that Juliet was given insider information and alerted to market moves before they happened. That creates an unfair market."

"So trading is based on luck?" I frowned, utterly perplexed.

"Kind of. Look, it's hard to explain, but what Juliet's done is illegal."

"Does she have to return the money?"

"It doesn't work like that, as such. She'll be struck off for starters, and could face a jail term if she's found guilty."

"What kind of jail term?"

"Twenty years."

"Holy crap!" I yelled as Detective Donahue waved me down. "Twenty years?" I hissed. "For getting a tip that made her firm and her clients money?"

"Again, it's insider... whatever. You need to get yourself acquainted with trading regulations."

We were silent a moment while I worked out what little I knew about insider trading. The amount? A big, fat zero. "How likely is it Juliet will be found guilty?" I asked, wondering how in the world this all fitted in with the credit card fraud and the stalking.

"Based on our evidence... one hundred percent."

The only thing more deflating than hearing my client was about to face a twenty-year jail term for committing a crime was believing she was innocent without being able to prove it. I had nothing to contradict anything Donahue claimed; and according to him, there was enough evidence to bury her. If I hadn't already spoken to Juliet, I would have probably agreed with him that it was a slam-dunk case, providing his evidence held up in court. But I spoke to her and now shared her suspicions. With all that in mind, I wasn't sure why I told Donahue, "I don't think she did it."

Detective Donahue slapped his hand on top of a thick file. "The evidence here says she did. I barely have to open this case to shut it down. It's one incriminating piece of evidence after another. The prosecutor agrees."