JULIET
I havea giant-size latte in my hand when I show up to work, the following day. I have a feeling I’m going to need it, since I didn’t sleep at all.
All I kept seeing, when I closed my eyes, were visions of Nero, taunting me. You know what curiosity did to the cat, Juliet.
It doesn’t matter that Caleb and I are not, and really never have been, officially together. My association with him, even if I’m just his plaything, has me in danger.
I don’t even know why.
And I’m not putting up with it anymore. No more sleepless nights. No more being yanked around.
I’ve decided to confront Caleb—about everything. By the time I get into the office, I’m raring to go, ready to unleash hell on him, if I have to.
Unfortunately, when I step into the executive area, his door is closed, the office dark. A quick check of his schedule reveals he’s out all day at some charity event uptown.
Damn it.
Actually, though, it’s not so bad. After I get through the work that Vicki has piled on my desk, I decide to do a little detective work. When Vicki goes to lunch, I dial the extension for the Sterling Cross vault, downtown. “Hello, this is Caleb Sterling’s assistant, Juliet Nichols. We’re doing a security review,” I lie, “And I need to see records of everyone who visited the vault, going back the last month. Is that something you can send to me?”
“Certainly. I can email the spreadsheet right over to you, if you give me a moment?”
“Perfect.”
Ten minutes later, I have a copy of the visitor logs, and I’m going line by line through the entries. Only a few people have access privileges, so it doesn’t take long: a couple of the head designers, a few PR people photographing the archives for press pieces—and Caleb.
I highlight all the times he visited—and all the items he requested to see or remove from the vault entirely. I find the entry for the diamond choker, a couple weeks before the gala, on the night he first let me try it on.
And then there is an entry for the day before the gala. It was signed out by Caleb, with a notation, ‘for cleaning’.
I can’t tell if that’s suspicious or not. After all, the necklace was auctioned off for charity, to great fanfare, so it would make sense for him to prepare for that. But still… I can’t shake the feeling something is going on, so I open his schedule and cross-reference that day.
There are several cancelled meetings, which were refilled with blue boxes. Blue boxes are code for “personal time.”
But Caleb, as busy as he is, rarely has any blue boxes on his schedule. Except on the days leading up to the gala.
I cross-reference the time the necklace was checked out with his schedule, and sure enough, the cancelled meetings and personal timelines up with his removing the necklace from the vault.
But why? That necklace wasn’t the only vintage piece auctioned off. There were five other classic items —and they weren’t checked out until the following day, the morning of the gala. By our official PR team, who were handling the auction.
Why didn’t Caleb collect the other items at the same time? Why weren’t they sent out for ‘cleaning’, too? Why isn’t his visit to the vault listed on his schedule like it usually would be?
Why do I feel in my bones that something here isn’t right?
And it hasn’t been right for a long time. Not since that mob henchman showed up at my place and I found out that Caleb has some kind of relationship with them.
But what?
I call down to his driver. “Mel, it’s Juliet Nichols. When are you picking up Caleb Sterling from the charity event?”
“I was just about to head that way right now. What can I do for you?”
“I need to grab five with him before his next appointment. He suggested I hitch a ride with you and talk in the car.”
“Sure. I’ll come around to pick you up?”
“Great. Thanks.”
I end the call and gather my things, then go out to find his empty limo waiting. Climbing inside, I debate pouring myself a scotch to calm my nerves. In the end, I wind up twiddling my thumbs during the ride and practicing what I’m going to say. Caleb isn’t going to be happy to see me, but I can’t let that stop me getting the answers I need.