Juliet's head shot up. "You do?"

"Yes. Solomon and I combed the computer records; we cross-referenced them with your log-in and log-out times, as well as those times with your access pass. We've found several conflicting instances where we have you on camera at another location at almost exactly the time you're supposedly logging on to your work computer, or sending an email, or making a trade. We can substantiate that evidence with pings from cell phone towers for your cell phone too. We already know you didn't do the things you were arrested for." I had high hopes in handing over the file Solomon and I collated, along with some very helpful photos Lucas obtained from ATM and traffic cameras. I just hoped Donahue wouldn't dismiss it.

Juliet gasped and reached for Rob, her eyes suddenly bright and hopeful. "And it's enough to convince Detective Donahue it wasn't me?"

"Yes. It's enough. The person who set you up is smart, very smart, but even they can't make you invisible. They just didn't think we'd find you elsewhere."

"What about all those purchases from my home computer?"

"That's going to be harder to prove, as we can't show you left the house at those times, or that someone accessed your home computer remotely. We're still looking into whether your work computer was hacked remotely."

"There is a remote log-in for when I work away from the office, but it's supposed to be secure... So I'm still in the hole for all those purchases? All those wedding things?" Juliet's shoulders dropped.

"We can take the financial hit, honey. You're not going to jail, and that's the most important thing."

I perched on the edge of the couch, resisting the urge to check my wound while trying not to wince as the skin tightened. "Rob's right. You won't go to jail, but I think we might be able to find a way to get those purchases returned once we can prove to the stores you were being targeted by a stalker. If we can get the financial crimes unit to back it up, you'll have enough evidence to claim fraud. Until then, I have another idea."

"Such as?" asked Juliet, darting a glance at Rob.

"We're working on ways to identify the stalker, but we want to make the stalker come to us. Last night, we were caught offguard. This person was fully prepared in case she got interrupted and she knew how to evade us. We want to make sure she can't do that again. Like you said, Juliet, you're a sitting duck while you're here under house arrest. It's time to use that, and all the things your stalker bought, to our advantage."

"I don't understand."

"How do you feel about getting married?" I asked.

"Strongly," said Rob.

"We intend to. We thought we might have to postpone it, but everything can go ahead now," added Juliet.

"I meant, how do you feel about getting married a bit sooner? Like, a lot sooner?"

"We already paid the deposit on the venue," said Rob. "It's been booked for months."

I knew I had to be more specific. "How about this weekend, here, at your house?"

"What? Our wedding?" Juliet frowned.

"Yes, your wedding," I confirmed. "You have everything you need. You have dresses, flowers, suits, shoes, decorations. You have everything you need to stage a fake wedding."

"You have to explain," said Rob. "I don't understand. Weddings. Fake weddings. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Everything. Juliet, your stalker doesn't want you to be happy. She’s trying to do everything she can to interfere with that. She tried to take your job, as well as your freedom. She meddled with your finances. She alienated your friends and co-workers. I'm sure she caused more than one argument between you and Rob." The two exchanged a glance. Rob's guilty, silent gulp confirmed exactly what I suspected. "I thought so," I continued, "So far, what she hasn't done is split you up; but sending you to jail would do just that. Except, it's not going to happen! Now we're going to give her one last chance to try and take away the last promising event you have; and what better way to do that than to have her ruin your wedding?"

"Our fake wedding, this Saturday," said Juliet, frowning as she latched onto the plan.

Rob stroked a hand across his chin, and worry lines marred his forehead and eyes. "Just how do you think she'll do that?"

"I don't know, but I can bet you she will either be on your invite list, or do anything she can to get invited. She'll attend and do everything she can to split you two up for good."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Juliet.

"Because it's pretty hard to split up two people who've been through hell, are expecting a baby, and tying the knot. That's a couple who are never going to split up," I told them.

"Honey?" Rob said, reaching for Juliet's hand.

She grasped it in hers, the pair of them holding hands right next to Juliet's queen on the chessboard. "It's the ultimate chess move, right?" she said. "The ultimate bluff?"

"The ultimate bluff," I repeated, agreeing with her. "You need to put on a good show."

"Tell us what to do," she said, her eyes never leaving Rob's face. Whether she spoke to him or me was immaterial; what mattered now was the fight I glimpsed in her eyes. "Let's end this by beating her at her own game, and playing much better than she ever could."

~

By the time I left them in the house, we'd already unpacked a large number of the boxes. We arranged all the chairs, after decorating them in chiffon ribbons and pretty silk flowers, by the French doors, ready to put into rows in the garden. In the guest bedroom, far from the mangled remains of the bathroom door of her bedroom, Juliet tried on several of the dresses she could barely stand to look at before. She had to admit some were even to her taste. We accessorized from a selection of the many hair clips, bracelets and necklaces that also arrived, and tried on several shoes and veils. If she weren't my client, I would have to admit having a lot of fun with a good friend. Finally, on my way out, Rob pulled me gently to one side. He suggested I remove the veil, and thanked me for making Juliet laugh, at last. I thought leaving her confident and determined was the least I could do, after all the fear she already had to endure.

Caught in a long stretch of traffic snaking through Century Street, I was already running late by the time I reached my pretty, yellow bungalow. Solomon's SUV was nowhere in sight, and crucially, neither was my parents' car. I got out of my VW, jogging towards the house, and jumping over a sleeping Barney on my porch, before dashing inside to set the oven to preheat.

Ingredients covered the surfaces as I emptied the refrigerator and set about chopping vegetables. I took out the bowls and filled them with a variety of chips and dips I purchased. When a pair of arms circled my arms and crossed over my chest, I could barely conceal a squeal. "Jeez, John! I nearly stabbed you with my knife. I could have killed you!" I protested, dropping the knife onto the wooden board.

"With a paring knife? Why are you using that for slicing?"

"I can't find a better one."

"Like this one?" he asked, sliding a chopping knife from under a pile of carrots. "What are you doing?"

"Making carrot sticks. Healthy and nutritious and organic. It says so on the bag."

"Are we only eating carrot sticks for dinner?"

"No! I have several cuts of meat and potatoes and vegetables. And Garrett's bringing cake. Ohmygosh! Garrett is not bringing cake! Sam has chicken pox so they're staying at home. What do I do about dessert? Hand me the flour."