Malcolm invited her to events.
Asked her opinions.
Told her organized theft was destroying luxury retail.
Said employees’ hands were tied by “political correctness.”
Said criminals understood that stores were afraid of appearing biased.
Lydia believed him.
Or liked believing him.
It gave her suspicion moral meaning.
She became a volunteer hunter inside a store she did not own.
Arielle asked:
“Were you paid?”
“No.”
“Store credit?”
Lydia hesitated.
Daniel noticed.
“How much?”
“Maybe…”
She looked down.
“Seventy thousand over two years.”
Elena stared.
“Seventy thousand dollars is not nothing.”
“It wasn’t called payment.”
“What was it called?”
“VIP appreciation.”
Arielle looked toward Elena.
“Normal amount?”
Elena shook her head.
“Not remotely.”
Lydia whispered:
“I didn’t know.”
Arielle said:
“You knew you were putting jewelry into strangers’ belongings.”
“I thought it was authorized.”
“You knew they had not stolen it.”
Lydia began crying harder.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Outside, a siren passed along Madison Avenue.
Not stopping.
Life continued beyond the glass.
Arielle looked toward the bracelet.
“Where did you get A17 today?”
Lydia swallowed.
“Malcolm.”
“When?”
“Nine thirty.”
“Here?”
“No.”
“His apartment.”
Arielle and Daniel looked at each other.
Daniel asked:
“He gave you stolen merchandise at his home?”
“He said it was a security sample.”
Arielle’s pulse increased.
“Did he tell you why I was here?”
“He said you were linked to a group hitting stores in Boston and New York.”
Arielle almost laughed.
She had spent Monday in Boston intentionally.
Malcolm had tracked her travel.
That meant he knew more about the investigation than expected.
“Elena.”
The manager looked up.
“Who knew I was coming?”
“You.”
“Margaret.”
“Board counsel.”
“My assistant.”
“No one else.”
Arielle thought.
Unless someone monitored board counsel.
Or Margaret.
Or her.
She removed her phone.
“Everyone involved in this investigation stops using company systems now.”
Elena stared.
“What?”
“Email.”
“Messaging.”
“Bellrose devices.”
“Stop.”
“Why?”
“Because Malcolm knew where I was Monday.”
Daniel asked:
“You think the investigation is compromised?”
Arielle looked toward the empty boutique.
“I think it was compromised before I walked through the door.”
Margaret Welles arrived at 1:12.
She entered through the employee entrance wearing a navy raincoat and expressionless face.
No driver followed.
No assistant.
She had insisted.
Arielle met her inside the office.
Margaret saw Lydia through the glass conference partition.
Her face tightened.
“That woman has been at my family’s Christmas party.”
Arielle said:
“That is not the part you should focus on.”
Margaret looked toward her.
“Fair.”
Arielle summarized.
Repeated bracelet.
Lydia’s admission.
Malcolm.
Colton.
Off-book VIP credits.
Potential compromised investigation.
Margaret sat.
For the first time since Arielle met her, she looked seventy-one.
“What do we do?”
Arielle answered: