She also believed that spending money gave her a certain degree of authority.
Not official authority.
Something more personal.
She believed management should listen when she complained.
She believed employees should anticipate her preferences.
And she believed she had developed a reliable understanding of what a Vale Rowe customer looked like.
The woman standing near the front windows did not fit that picture.
Evelyn noticed Camille’s old leather tote first.
Then her flat shoes.
Then the absence of obvious designer labels.
Finally, she noticed that Camille was carrying three expensive dresses without an associate standing beside her.
Evelyn watched her for nearly two minutes.
Camille examined the emerald dress.
She looked toward the ceiling.
She glanced at the entrance.
Then she walked toward the black day dress display.
Evelyn narrowed her eyes.
She had seen news reports about organized retail theft.
She had read articles about groups entering luxury stores, distracting employees, and removing expensive merchandise.
She had even discussed the subject during a private lunch with two friends.
One of them had complained that luxury retailers were becoming too relaxed about security.
Evelyn had agreed.
Now, standing near the jewelry counter, she believed she had recognized suspicious behavior.
She turned toward Martin Keene.
“Martin?”
The manager was speaking with a salesperson about a delayed delivery.
He immediately ended the conversation when he heard her voice.
“Mrs. Carrington. Good afternoon. Lovely to see you.”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Certainly.”
Evelyn tilted her head toward the front windows.
“Are your people keeping an eye on that woman?”
Martin followed her gaze.
“Which woman?”
“The one carrying the dresses.”
He looked toward Camille.
“She’s shopping.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
Martin gave a polite smile.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“She’s been moving around the store for quite some time.”
“That’s generally what customers do.”
Evelyn did not smile.
“She’s looking at your security cameras.”
Martin glanced upward.
“Is she?”
“Several times.”
He watched Camille for a moment.
She was examining a dress beneath the natural light.
“Perhaps she likes the lighting.”
“Martin.”
Something in Evelyn’s tone made him stop.
“I’ve seen this before. You need to be careful.”
“Careful about what?”
“Retail theft.”
Martin’s expression changed.
He glanced again toward Camille.
“Has she done something?”
“She’s been wandering around without assistance. She’s looking toward the staff doors, checking the cameras, and carrying expensive merchandise.”
“Customers are allowed to carry merchandise.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Martin exhaled.
He knew Evelyn.
He knew how much she spent.
He knew how many complaints she had submitted over the years.
And he knew that every complaint required a written response from management.
Sometimes the complaints were legitimate.
Sometimes they concerned details so minor that Martin struggled to understand how anyone could consider them serious.
A salesperson had once been reprimanded because she had used the wrong shade of tissue paper.
Another employee had received a formal warning after Evelyn claimed that a greeting had sounded insufficiently enthusiastic.
Martin had learned that arguing with Evelyn rarely produced a useful outcome.
“Mrs. Carrington, I’m sure everything is fine.”
Evelyn folded her arms.
“Are you?”
He hesitated.
She leaned closer.
“Several stores have had problems with organized theft. You don’t want to be the manager who ignored something obvious.”
Martin looked uncomfortable.
“I understand.”
“Then perhaps somebody should watch her.”
He nodded.
It was a small gesture.
Almost invisible.
But it was the first decision that allowed the situation to grow.
Camille noticed the change almost immediately.
A sales associate who had previously been helping another customer moved closer to her department.
A security employee appeared near the entrance.
And Martin Keene began watching her from across the floor.
Camille recognized the behavior.
She had seen it in other stores.
It was subtle enough that employees could later deny it.
A glance held a little too long.
A salesperson appearing in the same aisle repeatedly.
A security guard changing position whenever a customer moved.
She had hoped the renovated flagship would be different.
Instead, she found herself becoming the subject of an informal investigation.
She placed the emerald dress over her arm and moved toward the front windows.
Evelyn was waiting.
“Excuse me.”
Camille stopped.
“Yes?”
“Have you already paid for those?”