“What changed?”
“Malcolm sent her another message.”
“How?”
“Second phone.”
Arielle was already reaching for her coat.
Lydia had hidden another phone inside a cosmetic pouch.
Police found it after her attorney advised full disclosure.
The device contained eighteen months of messages.
Malcolm.
Colton.
Sometimes a user saved only as W.
Messages about targets.
Not by race explicitly.
Language more coded.
QUESTIONABLE FIT.
NONCLIENT BROWSER.
PROBABLE BOOSTER.
TOO INTERESTED / NO PURCHASE.
NEEDS PRESSURE.
One text about Tasha Freeman:
GRAY SUIT. SOLO. WATCH JEWELRY. IF SHE MOVES CASE TO CASE, RUN A17.
Arielle read it twice.
“Run A17.”
The bracelet had a nickname.
A tool.
Another message:
COLTON SAYS A17 IS CLEAN AGAIN.
Clean.
After police evidence.
After chain of custody.
Somebody repeatedly retrieved the same bracelet from secure storage and reintroduced it.
Daniel said:
“This is conspiracy territory.”
Arielle nodded.
Lydia sat across the interview room.
No makeup now.
Hair tied back.
She looked less like the woman from Bellrose and more like someone who had not slept.
Her attorney sat beside her.
Lydia said:
“I want to help those women.”
Arielle’s expression stayed neutral.
“What does help mean?”
“I’ll apologize.”
“Eventually.”
Lydia looked hurt.
Arielle continued:
“Right now, help means evidence.”
Lydia nodded.
“I’ll give you everything.”
“Why?”
“Because Malcolm lied.”
Arielle almost smiled.
“That is a reason to be angry.”
“Not necessarily a reason to tell the truth.”
Lydia stared.
Arielle continued:
“Try again.”
Lydia looked down.
“Because I did something awful.”
“Closer.”
“I liked it.”
Silence.
Even her attorney turned slightly.
Lydia’s eyes filled.
“I liked being the person staff trusted.”
“Malcolm would text me.”
“Tell me to watch someone.”
“I would notice everything.”
“How they held a bag.”
“Where they looked.”
“If they touched merchandise.”
“And when I told him I thought somebody was suspicious…”
“He listened.”
Her voice broke.
“My husband never listened to me.”
“My second husband spent fifteen years telling me I had no instincts for business.”
“Malcolm made me feel…”
“Important.”
Arielle said:
“Powerful.”
Lydia looked up.
“Yes.”
Arielle nodded.
“That is more useful.”
Lydia wiped her face.
“I told myself I was protecting women who worked there.”
“Protecting the store.”
“Protecting everyone from criminals.”
Arielle asked:
“Did you ever notice all the people Malcolm selected were people of color?”
Lydia closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After the second.”
“Then why continue?”
Lydia whispered:
“Because I told myself that noticing the pattern was more racist than trusting him.”
Daniel exhaled quietly.
Arielle studied Lydia.
That sentence was ugly.
Also believable.
People sometimes used the language of fairness to avoid confronting unfairness.
“I didn’t want to think…”
Lydia continued.
“That I was doing exactly what people accuse women like me of doing.”
“Women like you?”
“Rich.”
“White.”
“Entitled.”