"So it no longer falls entirely on Juliet's passwords."
"We have to be realistic. Passwords are easy to guess, or hack. Getting Juliet's location is better. Lucas is also triangulating her phone records to determine more location data."
"So all he has to do is confirm Juliet was in another place to prove she didn't do it?"
"Yes. If we get a ping off a cell tower in one place, and she's supposed to be making a trade in her office building, we've got evidence in her defense."
"Surely whomever is doing this already knows those traces can be made."
"I'm not sure he or she thought it through. I think they were so intent on setting Juliet up, and possibly lacked enough technical nous to fully cover their tracks, that it didn't matter. I think they made a mistake somewhere. We just have to find it."
"You seem to believe Juliet."
Solomon made a non-committal noise. I figured someone breaking into Juliet's house had to be a pretty big clue she wasn't making it all up. My wound should’ve also indicated that, and I winced as I stumbled in the low light of the garden, glad for Solomon's arm when it tightened around me.
"Then why attack Juliet tonight?" I stopped, realizing exactly why. I could answer that and I did. "Because their plan isn't working. Juliet isn't abandoning all hope. She has plenty of support and they know it's only a matter of time until she's proved innocent and they're caught."
"I don't know about that, but we do know now that there is definitely a stalker." Solomon stopped and turned to me, gripping both my arms as he looked down at me. "And they could go down for attempted murder."
"Of Juliet?"
Solomon shook his head. "No, of you."
"My mother is going to be so mad at me."
"Let's go into the kitchen so I can take another look at that wound."
"I don't think Juliet will be happy about me bleeding all over her kitchen."
"I think she's grateful she didn't get murdered with an ax. That's thanks to you."
"And Maddox. He went in the front."
"As he should. He's better equipped for that kind of thing."
"Hey! I had a gun too."
"I meant, he's had years of training with MPD, and then with the FBI."
"Where exactly did you train?" I inquired as Solomon helped me through the French windows. He positioned me on a stool at the kitchen island as we heard a siren outside, along with the slamming of doors and running footsteps. I couldn't help wincing as he rolled up my t-shirt.
"Hold still," he said, stooping to peer at the wound. He prodded the skin gently as he peeled back the bandage someone pressed against my side. "Maybe a few stitches," he said.
I coughed lightly, waiting for my answer. "About that training?"
"Where do you want us, boss" asked Fletcher, stepping through the doors.
Maddox stepped through next, saying, "I'm going to talk to the police."
"Good thinking," said Solomon. "Fletcher, take a look around back. Lexi fought the assailant on the deck. See if you can find something useful before MPD take over."
"Got it," agreed Fletcher, stepping into the dark.
"I thought there were security lights outside," I said. "They didn't light up as we crossed the garden."
"There were. The bulbs were taken out." Solomon replaced the gauze before letting the t-shirt drop over it. He took my hand and placed it at my side, applying light pressure to the wound.
"And our cameras?"
"I need to look into that. Did you see them?"
"No, it was too dark and the perp wore a ski mask and dark clothing. Penelope said it was a man, only..."
"Only?"
"I'm sure whomever I fought with was a woman."
"What makes you think that?"
"Height, weight. Some of the punches were a little off. Strong, but not well-thrown, and lacking in clout."
"Could have just been a small guy. Or someone not used to fighting."
I shook my head. "No, whoever it was even felt like a woman. I was on the floor grappling with her, Solomon. I swear it had to be a woman."
Solomon glanced at the garden. Through the dark windows we saw the flashing light of the ambulance above the fences as it slowly made its way out of the alley. "Penelope?"
"I thought so at first, but it can't have been. This woman shot her too."
"Strange coincidence."
"Getting shot? Or that she was in the alley and got shot too?"
"Both. Penelope was our prime suspect."
"Ours?"
"Yours, but rapidly becoming mine too. Now she's another victim. It's weird. It feels off. A little too convenient."
"I thought that too, but she isn't even wearing the same stuff as the woman who shot me. Penelope was wearing ballet pumps, and my attacker wore boots. They had different jackets on too. Here, I grabbed a bit of it and it tore. Penelope's wasn't torn. Solomon, I think I got it wrong. I think I was too fixated on the idea it was Penelope because she had access; and I later thought her past relationship with Rob gave her motive. Juliet has the charmed life with Rob, and Penelope is a struggling mother. Isn't that reason to hate her? What if I got it wrong and that’s why Penelope got hurt too?" I sniffed my way to a stop, mortified at my mistake. How could I have done so badly and been so wrong?
Solomon nodded thoughtfully. To his credit, he didn't tell me I screwed up, or offer any platitudes.
"There's not much to see," said Fletcher, returning inside. "There's a little blood on the deck that I figured was Lexi's, and I found a boot print in the flower bed just below the deck. I'm guessing here, but it looks to me like a women's size seven."
"That supports your theory the assailant is a woman," said Solomon. "Anything else?"
"Nothing. My preliminary search didn't turn up any other prints; and I haven't found how they got in yet. I'm thinking there had to be an unlocked door or window."
I shook my head. "No, Juliet's been really careful."
"Then, perhaps a key?" Fletcher suggested.
"Juliet changed all the locks," I replied, looking up at Solomon. He didn't look happy. "They got another key? How?"
"Same way they got the last set," Solomon said, his eyes narrowing.
"I don't think Juliet has allowed anyone in the house since the locks got changed. Only she and Rob have sets. There was no spare key to steal."
"We already proved to Juliet how easily we could get into her purse," said Solomon.
"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't change the fact that she hasn't had anyone in the house."
"Penelope and her kid were here."
"They were here for less than ten minutes; and we had eyes on them the whole time," I pointed out. "She didn't have opportunity. Besides, whoever it is just shot Penelope."
"Is my sister okay?" asked a very loud and familiar voice.
"Garrett, I'm over here in the kitchen," I called and Garrett appeared, followed by Maddox.
"What the hell happened this time?" asked Garrett. "I got a call reporting an attempted murder and the responding officer thought it was you! I didn't know whether you were dead, or presumed a killer."
"Neither," I said. "You're premature if you expected a homicide."