I promised I would and hung up, unsurprised that Solomon's big question hadn't been mentioned. It wasn't a simple yes or no, it was so much more than that. It was choosing a very defined path; and though the prospect of moving along excited me, it also scared me. Solomon was right, his house was bigger and better equipped than mine, and in a more chic area. Mine was smaller, cozier, and full of my stuff. It was my dream home. It symbolized my independence and I worked hard for it. I could rent it. I could sell it. I could even do as he suggested and keep it to work in; but if I lived with Solomon, would I never live in my pretty yellow bungalow again? If I lived with Solomon, what would follow our merger of linens and crockery? Would we drift along in co-habitation? Or would it progress to veils, bells, and signed certificates? It was a huge question to answer... and also a very simple one. It was yes or no.

"I have to go," I said, sliding off my stool in a daze. I wanted to talk to Lily about it, but I had a job to do first.

"What about that coffee?"

"Maybe later."

"We could meet for dinner at O'Grady's?"

"Do they let the competition in?"

"When they are as pregnant and hormonal as me... yes."

"See you at eight."

The drive across town to my sister's house was conveniently quick with light traffic, but Serena looked harassed when she came to the door on the third push of the button. "I'm busy," she said, simply.

"Hello to you too."

"Mom said you were coming by." She opened the door a little wider, allowing me to step through. I shut the door behind me, following her through to the kitchen. Delgado was barefoot, his shirtsleeves rolled up as he stood at the counter preparing food. Victoria was in her high chair next to him, her hands wedged in a plate of spaghetti. Or, at least, it used to be a plate. The plate was upside down on the floor and the spaghetti was strewn across the highchair's tray. She grabbed a handful and held it up to me. "Yum!" she giggled.

I pretended to eat a little from her hand. "Yummy."

"Stand back," ordered Serena, "unless you want her to decorate you."

I stood back just in case her aim was as good as mine at the range.

"I don't have long," Serena continued. "I have a conference call in an hour and we need to have lunch, then I have to take Victoria to daycare. Antonio has things to do too."

"You're working the Hart surveillance case?" I asked him.

He blinked, like I caught him doing something he shouldn't have been, then simply nodded. "Yes, but not today. Solomon said you're working the same case."

"You're working together again?" asked Serena, glancing from Delgado to me.

"No, but our cases have overlapped."

Serena brightened. "Is there an accountancy angle? Or codes for money? Remember how I helped you crack the case at the insurance firm?"

"I remember," I said, not pointing out that she wasn't entirely accurate. She helped me with some puzzling codes, but they weren't exactly the key to cracking the case. They did, however, work as great leads for finding the stolen millions later. "I'm actually here to ask Delgado for help."

Delgado paused his chopping. "Me? Why?"

"Him? Why?" asked Serena.

"I need someone to install a security system today, and you're the best person I could think of."

"He is," agreed Serena. "The alarm system he installed here is wonderful."

"What do you need?" asked Delgado as he caught a clump of flying spaghetti without looking. "And does Solomon know?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Really?"

"He will when I tell him; and it's not for any reason that will interfere with his case," I promised. "I don't know what my client needs, just that it should be state-of-the- art. The best you can get. The full works."

"You want every door and window wired up?"

"Yep."

"Video feed?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely, yes."

"Audio too?"

"Yes, please!"

"Babysitting?"

"Yes... wait, what?"

Delgado grinned. "Gotcha! Let me make a call. I know someone at a fast response alarm company who could probably bring the equipment today if I help him."

"Thank you."

"And it's my day off, so don't worry about squaring it with Solomon. My day off is my business," he continued, barely looking up as he finished chopping. He scooped up the ingredients and dropped them into the salad bowl, adding a dash of extra virgin olive oil. Something on the stove sizzled and my mouth watered.

"Shame it's not a money crime. I'm good with money," said Serena.

Money crime? I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me to ask Serena about the money Juliet supposedly made and lost. "What do you know about insider trading?" I asked.

She glanced up from feeding Victoria. "A little bit. Why?"

"Tell me everything you know."

Chapter Ten

I met Solomon at his house, and felt almost relieved that we weren't in the agency offices. Given the nature of his notes, and mine, and knowing our conversation could turn quickly to the intricacies of the case, it seemed prudent to meet somewhere private. I didn't consider Solomon's bedroom exactly the right place for a professional discussion, but from my vantage point on the bed, I had an excellent view through the bathroom door of his walk-in shower. Not that I was looking at the shower, just admiring the way the rain pummeled his hard body.

The water shut off while I shut my mouth, trying not to dribble, and a moment later, Solomon emerged with a very small towel wrapped tightly around his waist. "How's it going?" he asked, raising a larger towel to his head and drying what little hair he had. I tried really hard to engage my powers of telekinesis and make the towel around his waist fall, only to mentally lament my lack of supernatural powers. "Why is your face all screwed up?" he asked.

I relaxed. "No reason. I haven't read very far," I told him, flapping the file.

"Did you make it past the cover?"

Looking down at the closed file, I stifled a laugh. "I thought I'd wait for you. We should review this stuff together. I sent copies of Juliet's bank statements and credit cards to you, and I just forwarded her incident log of all the weird things she recalls happening."

"Good idea. We don't want to miss anything."

I tried hard again with the telekinesis and the towel because I didn't want to miss anything either, but apparently I needed a lot more practice. With a shake of his head, Solomon turned away, and walked into the closet. When he re-emerged, he was nicely dressed in black jeans and a navy t-shirt, with the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The neck was open and a bead of water made its way down his throat before pooling at the base of his neck. I licked my lips and willed myself to concentrate harder.

"Would you rather move to somewhere more professional?" Solomon asked.

"I am an absolute professional everywhere I go," I told him.

"So I see." Solomon sat opposite me, one leg casually resting on the bed, and reached over to flip open the file. "Where are your notes?" he asked.

I pushed over my much slimmer file, which didn't contain much, just Juliet's self-filled case form, the background information provided by Maddox, and several pages of my musings. I figured Solomon could finish it in five minutes or less. His file, however, would probably take me at least two hours. Even skimming it, I could see how comprehensive he was. He had the client’s report of their suspicions into insider trading occurring within their firm and why the evidence pointed to Juliet. That was supported by a report from their IT support and included a ream of dates and times when the trades occurred, along with suspicious emails that were gleaned from Juliet's inbox.