The young woman shook Lily's hand too. "This is a lovely bar," she said politely.

"I know. Thank you!" Lily beamed as she got to her feet, patting her expanding belly. The belly caught the woman's eye more than my sad office did. I eyed my cocktail glass. I had no hope of sliding it out of sight.

"Oh! You're pregnant!" she exclaimed.

Lily patted the bump again. "Three months to go, and then it's cocktail hour! What can we help you with?"

"Oh, yes, see..." the woman started, looking flustered. She stopped, took a deep breath and started again as she fixed me with a firm look. I'd seen that kind of look before. The mixture of worry and fear told me she needed help and I was her final hope. This woman had clearly exhausted her other options. "My name is Juliet Hart and I think I need your help."

"Take a seat and tell me about it."

Juliet glanced at Lily. "Can we speak privately?"

"Absolutely," said Lily without moving.

"She means privately with me," I said.

Lily's mouth pursed into a disappointed pout. "Can I get you a drink?" she offered.

Juliet shook her head quickly. "No, thank you."

"Okay. Well, Lexi is a great investigator and I’m sure she can solve your problem," Lily said, collecting our glasses, stepping around Juliet, and crossing to the door. There, she paused and turned back to me. As I waved Juliet into the seat Lily just vacated, Lily pointed to the expensive purse Juliet deposited on the floor and gave me a thumbs-up before shutting the door.

"What can I help you with?" I asked as I took my seat on the other side of the desk.

Juliet glanced around, taking in the sights of my office. She was spending much more time than necessary to look over my ancient desk, new IKEA chair, and the bookshelf of scant paperwork. Behind me was a window, the iron security bars barely concealed behind the wooden blinds. With my desk clear, I wondered if I should reach into my purse and extract my laptop and notepad in an effort to look like I actually did work, and did not just drink cocktails during the day. Juliet's face was so impassive that I wondered what she deduced from the room.

When her eyes finally resettled on me, she took another deep breath and closed them, making funny little movements with her mouth like she wanted to talk, but couldn't decide how to start. So I waited patiently for her to begin. She was trying to be poised, I deduced, but her hand wringing, just visible if I sat a little straighter, said a different story. I also checked out her jewelry: a slim, elegant watch, and a fat, diamond engagement ring. Nice.

"I think I'm being stalked," she said, her eyes still closed like she couldn't quite believe what she was saying. "I think someone has it in for me, but I don't know why. I swear I have never done anything to hurt anyone… ever. I'm a nice person. I have a nice, quiet life. I'm not the kind of person to attract a stalker, but I think I've got one."

"And what kind of person does attract a stalker?" I asked.

She paused, her eyes flicking open as her forehead wrinkled. My question surprised her. "I don't know. Someone vivacious, maybe. Someone flirty. Someone that people want to get close to, but can't... you know, like a celebrity!"

I leaned forward, clasping my hands together as the chair's wheels skidded. I had to scramble to stay put. Some first impression! "Anyone, and I mean anyone, can acquire a stalker," I told her, my feet planted firmly on the ground. "You could be anyone or anything. It doesn't matter to a person who fails to respect boundaries."

"I guess."

"Don't guess. It's true. Why do you think you have a stalker?"

"I don't think. I know."

"Then tell me how you know."

"It's little stuff mostly, but no one believes me," said Juliet before resuming her hand wringing.

"What was the first thing you remember that made you think one hundred percent that someone was stalking you?"

"On the day my car moved four spaces from where I parked it."

"That's awfully specific."

"I was wondering about things before then; so I started being more careful. I mean, I was extra careful to remember stuff. That day, just last week, I was driving to pick up my friend from the coffee shop, and I parked in front of a fire hydrant. It was a hot day and I kind of laughed, thinking if someone shears that thing off, my car would get a free wash."

"What happened when you parked?"

"I got out of the car and locked it. I'm always very methodical about that. I went inside the coffee shop and found my friend already there waiting. We drank half our coffees before the table got knocked and my cup spilled. Coffee splashed all over my skirt. My friend had some wipes in her purse so she gave them to me to clean up in the restroom. I did that, came back, and we got another coffee before leaving to go home and that’s when I realized my car was moved."

"Did you notice the change right away?"

"No, I just started walking over to the car until I realized it wasn't my car next to the fire hydrant, but someone else's. My car was four spaces over. I was sure I did not park it there and I can't work out how it was moved."

"Does anyone else have access to your keys?"

"Yes, my fiancé has a key, but he was out of town that day, and didn't get home until nine that night."

"Okay. What made you feel you had to be so careful by that point? Did something happen before that?" I guessed, knowing I was correct when Juliet nodded.

"All kinds of little things, but I just brushed them off. I work long hours so I was tired. I wasn't thinking... I forgot... but... back then, I never thought I was being stalked; but now, I think it must’ve started long before my car mysteriously moved."

"But you didn't believe what you told yourself before," I finished. It was a familiar story. After handling a few stalking cases, from what I learned, the stalking starts long before the victim becomes aware of it. I wasn't surprised Juliet tried to explain away her own bad feelings.

"No, I didn't. I've always been a careful, organized person. Like, I know when I have sixty dollars in my purse, and I haven't spent it, but forty is missing. I know when I put my gloves in my coat pocket, I expect them to be there when I need them again. Except they're gone. I know I have my debit card in my bag, but when I go to pay at the restaurant, it's gone; and I find it at home later, sitting on the kitchen counter where I couldn't possibly have left it."

"How many things have happened like that? Ballpark figure?"

"I don't know. Thirty, I guess."

Thirty incidences were a lot. Unless she was super harebrained, and I didn't think Juliet was, she had good cause to be in my office; but I didn't plan on telling her that just yet though. First I needed more information. "Has anyone ever approached you?" I asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Have you seen anyone watching you? Like at the store, or near your home, or at work? Or has someone gotten a little too friendly? Or made you feel uncomfortable?"

"I get the feeling occasionally that someone is watching me, but I never see anyone."

"It's just a feeling?"

"Yes, but... I don't know how to describe it. I never used to be a paranoid person!"

"Are you a paranoid person?"

"No... yes..." Juliet threw her hands in the air and laughed nervously. "I don't know!"