"I want to help her, but I refuse to withhold evidence for her," I said, hoping I sounded as fair as I aimed to be.
"Okay... I thought your case was a stalking victim?"
"It is."
"How did Juliet go from being a victim to a criminal?"
"That's what I was wondering when I bumped into you. You know, it could be simpler than that. Maybe Juliet is still being victimized."
"A stalker would have to be damn clever to set her up for this kind of crime. This isn't lowbrow stuff. This isn't taking sneaky photos, or rolling around in her bed and stealing her underwear."
"I agree. Don't you think it's really weird? You know, my client's life was perfect, then all these strange things started happening. She asked for help in finding out if she's bring stalked and her life goes crazy like this —" I pointed to the station " —and now she's in there, under arrest!"
"Let's say that's all true. She could have known they were onto her. Or, this might be some big setup to give her an alibi, or at least, create a modicum of doubt," countered Solomon.
"Isn't that kind of crazy?"
"I don't know. You tell me. Could Juliet have done something like that?"
I leaned against the wall, wondering if I were using the MPD building as a big metaphor for support in justice... or because Solomon's suggestion threw me so entirely that all I could so was slump. I added one hand to my hip so that I at least looked stylish while I slumped. "It would be elaborate," I admitted. If I wanted him to see my client as being potentially innocent, wasn't it fair that I saw her as being potentially guilty? "But she's smart, so I think it's reasonable to assume she could attempt to pull a big ruse to make us question her alleged guilt."
"What does your gut tell you?"
I learned a lot about listening to my gut feelings in recent cases. Some people might call it a sixth sense, or a subconscious colliding of facts, but Solomon called it gut instinct. Not that it overrode facts; it was more like a sense of direction in sifting through the facts and coming to a conclusion. "That it's too crazy to be an elaborate double cross. Something really weird is going on; and it's going to be hell learning the truth."
Solomon smiled. "I thought you were about to say she's innocent."
"I think she is, but... how the hell do I prove it?"
"Let me think over the merits of sharing our surveillance. I need to talk to my client and Detective Donahue."
"I already spoke to him. Donahue that is."
"What does he think?"
"That their tipoff was good and she's guilty. He has enough evidence to arrest Juliet."
"That's not good."
"He says they have a lot of evidence, but he'll listen if I bring something viable in her defense."
"That's good. You know what I want to know?"
I nodded. "I do now."
"I want to know how Juliet came to be arrested. I only just started investigating, and my client wanted the case all hush-hush. If they didn't tip off the police..."
"Then who did?" I finished.
Chapter Five
The next day, I was outside Juliet and Rob's house the moment the dashboard clock turned eight. I knew Rob must have had a long night. Right after Solomon and I parted ways outside MPD, I called him with the bad news. He assured me he was already on the way to MPD with their lawyer. The last I heard, late that evening, was that Rob and the lawyer were still there and Juliet had not been officially charged or released.
When Rob answered the door, after my third bout of rapping, he didn't look like he slept much. His hair was disheveled and he was still wearing yesterday's shirt. "What time is it?" he asked, looking at his bare wrist before softly tapping it against his forehead. "I forgot to put my watch on."
"It's eight. We agreed to meet, but I can wait, if you'd prefer?"
He opened the door, stepping back. "No, it's fine. Come inside."
"How's Juliet holding up?"
"She's okay, but she's very upset and confused. She swears she didn't make those trades."
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. Juliet is really smart and law abiding. She wouldn't make trades like that but..."
"But?" I prompted.
"But her name is all over the records." Rob dropped into the armchair, leaving me to continue past him before taking a seat on the couch. "Even our lawyer is having a hard time arguing that it isn't true."
"Could the records have been falsified?"
"Juliet says they must have, but the police say there's a clear trail leading back to her, and she's just trying to wriggle out of it. It's her word against a bunch of evidence that contradicts her. Please tell me you've found something that supports what she's saying?" he asked, giving me a hopeful glance that belied his deeply-set worry lines.
I shook my head, wishing I had an answer for him. "I'm sorry."
"Do you at least have a plan?"
"My plan starts with making you something eat," I told him, rising. "How do you take your coffee?"
Once I had some food in front of a grateful looking Rob and two coffees, one for him, and a sweeter one for me, I asked a few more questions about what occurred at the police station. "I think it was standard stuff," Rob said between chews, "but I wasn't allowed in the interview room. Our lawyer told me that they asked her a bunch of questions about her job and tried to trip her up a few times, but she stuck true to what she believed. Someone set her up; and she's being made a patsy."
"Can you think of why anyone would want to set up your fiancée?"
Rob shook his head. "No, she's the sweetest person I know. She's kind and helpful and everyone likes her."
"Apparently, not everyone," I pointed out.
"Then I don't know why."
"What's the first thing that springs to mind? If you looked at Juliet as an outsider, yet knowing everything you do about her life, what would piss you off?"
Rob dropped the toast crust onto the plate, picked up his coffee cup, and walked over to the window that overlooked the lawn. After a moment, he looked back. "Jealousy."
"Jealousy? Tell me why someone would be jealous of Juliet?"
"She's got... I don't know... it must look like a charmed life. We own this beautiful house. She has an amazing job and is also a very successful businesswoman. She has lovely friends and a family that adore her. She's smart and pretty and kind and wonderful. She has beautiful clothes and things and she gets invited to a lot of A-list events. Parties, dinners, charity stuff. But it's just her, you know? It's because she is the kind of person she is, and not for any other reason. Juliet worked hard to earn her education and her job. She got lucky and inherited some money that we used for this house... our home! And she reciprocates all the efforts of her friends and family and me, which she eagerly returns. She works hard for everything she has."
"You sound like you admire her."
"I do. I really do. When I met Juliet, I'd been single a couple years; and I never thought I'd meet someone like her. She's wonderful to my son and she's going to be a great stepmom and mother to our child too. We do so much together, just the two of us and my son. My life is so much better with her in it. She makes me the man I want to be," he finished, but the smile at the thought of Juliet was clearly hard to keep on his face as he looked away.