“Malcolm.”
Arielle stopped.
The regional director.
Malcolm Vane.
She turned back.
Lydia’s eyes filled.
“He told me.”
Daniel asked:
“Told you what?”
“That she was part of a theft group.”
Arielle said:
“When?”
“This morning.”
“How?”
“Text.”
“Show us.”
“My attorney.”
Arielle nodded.
“Fair.”
Lydia looked toward her.
“You don’t understand.”
“I was helping.”
Arielle almost felt sympathy.
Almost.
“You placed merchandise in my bag.”
“Because Malcolm said loss prevention needed probable cause.”
Daniel’s face changed.
Arielle said:
“Probable cause for what?”
“To stop you.”
“That’s not how probable cause works.”
“I’m not a cop.”
“Exactly.”
Lydia looked toward Daniel.
“He said the police knew.”
Daniel’s expression went cold.
“They did not.”
Lydia covered her mouth.
Arielle watched realization arrive.
She had known what she was doing physically.
But perhaps not structurally.
That distinction would matter legally.
It would not erase the harm.
Arielle asked:
“How many times?”
Lydia looked away.
“How many times have you planted merchandise?”
“Plant is an ugly word.”
“It is an accurate one.”
“Three.”
Elena inhaled sharply.
Arielle said:
“Three including today?”
Lydia closed her eyes.
“Four.”
The exact number of repeated bracelet incidents.
Arielle felt the investigation shift.
“You were present in the Freeman incident.”
“Yes.”
“Monique Harris?”
“Yes.”
“Jasmine Cole?”
Lydia started crying.
“Yes.”
Elena stood.
“You told me you were only a witness.”
Lydia looked toward her.
“I thought they were thieves.”
“You put the bracelet in their belongings.”
“I was told they had already stolen from other stores.”
“By Malcolm?”
“Sometimes Colton.”
Head of loss prevention.
There it was.
Daniel asked:
“Why use you?”
Lydia laughed through tears.
“Because no one suspects the rich customer.”
Silence.
That sentence explained more than any internal report.
Lydia continued:
“They said actual loss-prevention employees were getting accused of profiling.”
“So they needed someone independent to observe.”
Arielle stared.
“And you believed that.”
“At first.”
“At first?”
Lydia wiped her face.
“The second time felt strange.”
“But Malcolm showed me photographs.”
“Of what?”
“People he said were part of organized theft crews.”
“Were the photographs from police?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Lydia looked at Arielle.
The answer came slowly.
“Because he treated me like I was useful.”
Arielle had expected money.
Threat.
Romance.
Something more dramatic.
Useful.
Lydia explained.
After her second divorce, she spent more time at Bellrose.
The staff knew her.
Champagne arrived when she entered.
Private previews.