Shoplyfter - Aubree Ice Instant

She turned, her back to Sandra, and bent down to tie her shoe. In that three-second window, her hand dipped into her oversized tote bag. She palmed a small, powerful magnet. With a sleight-of-hand worthy of a stage magician, she reached behind a display of leather gloves and detached a single, deactivated security tag from a hidden pocket sewn into her bag’s lining.

“Sandra,” Morgan said, his voice suddenly formal. “Wait outside.” Shoplyfter - Aubree Ice

Aubree’s eyes went wide with perfect, Oscar-worthy innocence. “A scarf? I… I don’t have a scarf. I didn’t take anything.” She turned, her back to Sandra, and bent

“Have a seat, Miss…?” he finally said, gesturing to a plastic chair across from him. With a sleight-of-hand worthy of a stage magician,

“You see, Detective, I never stole anything. I wanted you to profile me. I wanted you to bring me back here. I wanted to see how far a man like you would go to ‘find’ a crime that never happened. And you just stripped me in a back room based on a floorwalker’s hunch.”

Morgan leaned back. The chair creaked. “Aubree. Pretty name. You know why you’re here?”

She handed him the tote. He upended it. A wallet, a lip balm, a sketchbook, and a single pencil clattered onto the desk. No scarf. No security tags. Nothing.