The luxury store occupied several floors of an ornate Manhattan building renovated so thoroughly that almost nothing old remained except the stone exterior.
Inside, everything shone.
Marble.
Glass.
Gold trim.
Chandeliers designed to look effortless while probably costing more than some houses.
A hostess near the entrance smiled.
“Welcome.”
“Thank you.”
No problem.
The investigator walked toward cosmetics.
A sales associate approached.
Professional.
Warm.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“A fragrance.”
“For yourself or a gift?”
“Myself.”
The associate asked what she usually wore.
They discussed notes.
Amber.
Rose.
Vanilla.
The investigator tested two fragrances.
Bought neither.
Still normal.
She moved toward handbags.
Nobody followed obviously.
Then jewelry.
The sales associate there was younger.
She smiled.
“Would you like to see anything?”
The investigator pointed toward a diamond bracelet.
“That.”
The associate removed it from the case.
The investigator tried it on.
Looked at herself in the mirror.
Asked the price.
Nearly eighteen thousand dollars.
She laughed softly.
The associate smiled.
“That's usually the reaction before people either buy it or run.”
“I may run.”
“No judgment.”
The investigator examined the clasp.
Then returned it.
“Beautiful.”
“But?”
“I'd rather pay for a vacation.”
“Also reasonable.”
The associate placed the bracelet back on its velvet tray.
The investigator noticed the security manager twenty feet away.
Dark suit.
Store badge.
Tablet in hand.
He was pretending to inspect something near another counter.
She recognized him immediately from personnel records.
She did not look again.
The recording device beneath her clothing captured audio only.
The offsite team could see security feeds supplied by corporate IT.
The investigator walked toward perfume.
The security manager moved.
Slowly.
Not directly.
He spoke to another employee.
Then to the jewelry associate.
The associate's expression became confused.
The investigator could not hear them.
She continued.
At perfume, she set the yellow bag beside her on the counter while testing a fragrance strip.
A sales associate asked whether she wanted a sample.
“Yes, please.”
The associate turned.
The investigator looked toward a mirror.
Not at herself.
At the reflection behind her.
The security manager approached.
He stopped near her bag.
Too near.
His left hand held a tablet.
His right hand remained near his jacket.
The investigator's pulse increased.
She did not move.
The perfume associate returned with the sample.
The investigator turned toward her.
“Thank you.”
In the mirror, the security manager's hand moved.
Fast.
Down.
Then away.
Something entered the yellow bag.
The investigator felt no contact.
The bag remained open by perhaps three inches.
Her face did not change.
Inside her ear, no device spoke.
The monitoring team had strict instructions not to interrupt unless physical danger became immediate.
The security manager walked away.
The investigator picked up the bag.
Heavy?
No noticeable difference.
She did not look inside.
That was important.
If she checked, the security manager could claim she discovered an accidentally dropped item and chose not to return it.