"Ready." I aimed for the final time, steadying my hand, focusing on the heart. I squeezed off my first shot, hitting the target perfectly. Second, Third. Fourth. My confidence increased as one shot followed another, peppering the heart region. I knew Garrett was counting as I reached my last round. I aimed and fired. My bullet hit the line, just inside the second ring, ruining my score.

Garrett punched the air. "One weekend of babysitting!"

Missing the shot was worth it.

~

I headed directly to my office after Garrett and I said our goodbyes at the range. As I let myself into the adjacent room, I could hear Lily speaking in her office. Closing the door, shutting out the sounds of a delivery arriving at the rear entrance, I was cocooned in silence. With Mom and Dad taking the surveillance shift, I had the time to run through the report Maddox said in a text that he emailed me. Solomon also left a message saying I should meet with him to share case notes.

Maddox's email was wedged between special offers from The Gap and another email from Lily, reminding me to block off the time next week to attend pregnancy yoga with her. I wondered if I would prefer it to the spin classes we used to take regularly. I figured yoga would be a lot less sweaty.

Maddox's email was loaded up in minutes. He sent it from his personal account, and there was absolutely nothing rubber-stamped with the FBI seal. I figured he was making a point about his lack of official involvement. What truly mattered, though, was the content. As I scanned it, I knew my initial feeling about Juliet was correct. With her client sheet besides me, I could match most of the details she'd given me, from addresses to education to career moves.

Except for a parking ticket eight years prior, she'd never been involved in any kind of criminal activity; and there was no reason to assume she intended to pursue a life of crime. In fact, she seemed to be the kind of person who lived her life by dotting all of her i's and crossing her t's. Maddox made some notes about a couple of past boyfriends —and how he found that information, I had no idea— but he remarked that her college love moved to Seattle after graduation and had never visited Montgomery. The boyfriend of a few months in between that man and Rob was currently on a round-the-world trip. Neither ex-boyfriend had the potential to be a stalker, which added to my developing theory that Juliet's stalker might be a woman. A man may have been able to disguise himself and follow her around, or access her email, but could he pull it off so well as to pass for Juliet on her passport? And allow her to purchase tickets at the airport? I didn't think so.

I called Maddox, crossing my fingers he would answer. He did. "Did you get my report?" he asked.

"I did, thank you. That's why I was calling."

"It all seemed pretty innocuous to me."

"Me too, and pretty much what I was expecting. Did you do Rob's?"

"His is taking a little longer. I should get it to you within a day or two. I'd be faster, but I just got a case to review and consult on."

"No problem. I don't expect to find anything in Rob's background, so it's only a precautionary check. I wondered if anything came up regarding any women in Juliet's life?"

"Such as?"

"Like any fallings out with female friends? Jealous colleagues? Any complaints filed by her, or about her? Maybe an old neighbor dispute?" I asked, grasping at any ideas as they sprang into my head.

"Nothing came up, and I ran her name through just about every database I could think of. The most dirt I managed to find was that parking ticket. I’ve got to go to a meeting. Call me if you need anything else."

I agreed I would and hung up. My phone trilled seconds later. Solomon. "Are you on your way over?" he asked. "We said we'd review our case notes together."

"On my way," I told him, gathering my things together. It had been a long time since I last set foot in the agency. Perhaps today was the day. "Let's meet at your office," I suggested.

"Already there."

I locked the office door, my laptop and files tucked into my large purse, and my mind whirring with possibilities about how Juliet's stalker targeted her, when my phone rang again. I searched through my purse, answering it right before it went to phonemail.

"Lexi?" The voice was breathless.

"Yes, it's me. Who's this?"

"Juliet. Juliet Hart. I need you to come to the house right away."

"I'm heading over to see a colleague to review your case notes. I can come after that."

"No, I need you here now!"

I paused at the urgency in Juliet's voice. "What happened?"

Chapter Nine

Juliet hovered anxiously nearby as I knelt squinting, at the front door. While I searched for the telltale marks of a lock pick, or a bump tool, she alternated between pacing and wringing her hands. She seemed unable to stay still as she darted glances out the door onto the quiet street. Turning away from her, I ran my fingers around the lock plate. There were no scratches to indicate someone used a lock pick, and no little marks on the frame to suggest someone used a screwdriver to "bump" the locks open. When I examined the back door, I found exactly the same: nothing. There wasn't anything to suggest someone had broken in via those doors.

"Nothing here," I told her, getting to my feet and stepping inside. I felt a little dejected when the crucial signs of a break-in were missing. Juliet quickly darted around me and pushed the door shut, locking it.

"Do you lock the door every night?" I asked.

"Yes, without fail, and I check every window too. Nothing is ever left unlocked."

"What about your security system?"

"We arm it every night. It didn't go off. I know you don't believe me, but I know someone was in here," Juliet heaved a sigh as tears filled her eyes.

I didn't want to argue with an obviously distressed pregnant woman. Without any sign to support her claim, I couldn't be sure she wasn't telling the truth. I had to look at it another way. What if someone were in the house? What if they didn't need to break in? If Juliet's stalker were someone close to her, I realized, and had a way to access her things, they could have gotten her home keys, and maybe even guessed the alarm code. It was a troubling thought. Juliet's stalker could be a lot closer to her than we originally thought. They might even know no one would believe her. "Walk me around. Tell me what you see that's different. Is anything missing?"

"I don't think so."

"When did you first realize someone came inside?"

"When I came downstairs. Rob had been up for an hour already."

"And he wasn't worried?"

"No, but when I pointed things out to him, he said he assumed I moved things around so he wasn't at all worried. Then I asked him, why would I? I mean, they’re such little, insignificant things. This book, for example. I was reading it last night and I left it open, pages down, spine up, on the coffee table because I couldn't find a bookmark. This morning, I find it closed on the side table. Rob didn't move it. And see these photos? They're moved from their previous order. Then there's that lamp. It usually sits at the other end of the table." Juliet pointed each thing out. I walked over to the lamp, and picked it up, curious as to how a lamp could have moved by itself. "Lamps don't move by themselves!" Juliet continued, just as I arrived at the same conclusion.