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AFTER SHON DROPPED Gabriela and Max at Jamie’s house, they immediately reached for their phone.
“Hey Chief. I saw a car parked at the lake this morning. It looks like the same car I spotted cruising past the house a few times yesterday. Maybe someone around here has a new car, but it looks like a rental to me. I thought it might be the paparazzi guy who’s been lurking around town.”
“Thanks, Shon, I’ll check it out.” Chief was at the office early catching up on paperwork that had accumulated on her desk while she was indisposed the day before.
Chief grabbed the keys to her Sheriff’s car, then changed her mind. Wanting to pay a social visit to Jamie’s house after checking out the car at the lake, she made a quick change into civilian clothes and drove her personal car. Chief would not want to be accused of using an official vehicle for a private trip, or her uniform for the purpose of seduction.
Chief arrived at the lake, where a couple of local cars were parked in the main lot. She spotted the car fitting Shon’s description pulled off to one side, on the grass under a large tree. The car had a small sticker on the front window indicating it belonged to a rental car company. Chief peered in the driver’s side window, seeing several food wrappers, a large cup in the drink holder, and a duffle bag on the floor of the back seat with an airline tag on it.
Chief called the local tow company.
“Hey, Lyle, do you have time right now to drive out to the lake and tow an illegally parked car?...How soon will you be here?”
Chief cited the vehicle for parking in a restricted zone and then dialed the rental car company number to report the tow, as a courtesy in case the customer called to report the car stolen.
Lyle arrived in his truck within fifteen minutes. Dragging the car onto the truck bed for transport took less than ten minutes. Lyle, not the talkative type, hopped into his truck cab to finish the intake sheet for the city impound lot.
“Thanks Lyle. I’ll wait for a few minutes to see if this person shows up.” Chief intended to wait as long as it took.
Lyle grunted his goodbye and pulled out onto the highway toward town.
Invading anyone’s privacy made Chief angry. Invading Jamie’s privacy made her very angry. She was glad to be in civilian clothes, which would play into her plan.
***
THE CAR IN THE PARKING lot was rented by a paparazzi nicknamed Pops. At forty-nine, in what he called a young man’s game, Pops was considered old for a paparazzi. There were a few female paparazzi, but mostly it was a blood sport of young men with little or no compassion for others who wanted to make a quick buck. Hence, Pops stood out in the crowd of photographers who inevitably descended on celebrities or the victims of notorious crimes. He derived his nickname from the younger guys who couldn’t decide whether to look up to him like a father-figure or push him out of the way.
Pops had been a legitimate news photographer for years, but the layoffs from traditional newspapers and magazines made those jobs scarce. The expense of putting a kid through college and being nowhere near retirement age led Pops to forget his journalistic integrity and hit the streets. After a few lucky shots of a minor celebrity acting badly—throwing a couple of drunken punches at a security guard at a club—sold quickly and easily, he justified this dubious career move to his family and friends as, If I don’t do it, someone will. It might as well be me making the money.
Pops snapped pictures of Jamie at a couple of movie openings over the years. He liked Jamie because she played nice, posing for the photographers to take their shots. He also had been told that she was unavailable for the summer months, between projects and with no public appearances planned.
The news about Jamie’s son barely escaping death broke while he was on another assignment, causing him to miss attending the hasty news conference that was non-news anyway. This week he was in Fairfield to cover a concert tour when he saw Dani’s story about the dog rescuing Jamie’s niece. Smelling money, Pops added a day in Crestwood to his trip.
After searching public records, Pops used satellite maps to identify Jamie’s home. He drove by a couple of times to confirm his research and check out the terrain. He also befriended a local who was more than happy to gossip about the Jordans. That was where he first heard it was not Fred who saved the girls, but a mysterious stranger living with Jamie. The gossip confirmed recent speculation about Jamie having a new woman in her life. No pictures of this new girlfriend had surfaced yet, which meant money was there for the taking.
Lying in wait for Jamie and the mystery woman to appear in public might take several days. Pops decided to chart a course to get close enough to Jamie’s house to take pictures. Even with a long lens, he would have to be within a couple hundred yards to get a shot good enough to sell. That is, if there was a clear line of sight. The satellite view showed a clearing behind Jamie’s house. Although it would be tricky, Pops figured if he could make his way to the edge of the clearing, it should be close enough.
Early Tuesday morning was quiet at the lake. Arriving just before the sun peeked over the horizon, Pops tucked his rental car off the side of the parking lot, in the grass where it would be less noticeable. A dozen canoes rested on racks near the boat launch dock.
“Doesn’t look like anyone will mind if I borrow one,” Pops justified out loud, hoping he would return before anyone else appeared at the lake that morning.
Pops was by no means an expert with a paddle, but the plan was to make his way to the side of the lake where a wide creek went under the highway bridge and wound around to the back side of Jamie’s property. There he hoped to find a landing and a path through the woods, leading to the edge of the clearing. If there was no path, it would be tough bushwhacking through the summer undergrowth. He packed water and snack bars, and sprayed himself with insect repellant for what could be a long wait in the woods. Unfortunately he was not wearing snake boots, so he would be taking his chances in that regard.
Paddling down the creek with the current was easy. He navigated his way to a spot which appeared on the map to be closest to the back of Jamie’s house. Pops pulled the canoe out of the creek, leaving it on the bank and hoping he could find the creek and canoe again. Otherwise, his Plan B involved announcing his presence and possibly being arrested for trespassing.
“I really need to find an easier job,” Pops said, talking to himself as he crawled up the creek bank. “I’m getting too old for this.”
“No snakes, no snakes, no snakes,” was his mantra as he crashed through the woods until a trail appeared. Three-quarters of a mile along the trail, Pops settled into a spot at the edge of the clearing behind Jamie’s house. There was a clear view of the pool and patio and he could see light through the kitchen window. He would have to sell any photos anonymously to avoid being prosecuted for trespassing, but an exclusive photo would bring in big money making it worth the risk.
Pops did not have to wait long. A tall, dark haired woman stepped out on the patio. Who’s that? he wondered, definitely not Jamie or anyone from her family. Soon, Jamie herself appeared next to the mystery woman.
Pops leveled his lens at them, taking six shots to test the light and focus. He checked the photos on the screen on the back of the camera. They were on the dark side and grainy, but a person could tell it was Jamie. She was recognizable.
Just then the women wrapped their arms around each other. It didn’t matter who the other woman was now, they were in what could easily be captioned a lover’s embrace. Dollar signs flashed in Pop’s mind as he kept his finger pinned down on the rapidly clicking shutter. Jackpot!
A minute later a car approached the house and the might-be lovers left their embrace, disappearing inside the house. Pops waited several minutes. As soon as a second car came toward the house, he started back down the trail towards the creek. Paddling against the current, the return trip to the lake took a lot longer, requiring Pops to use muscles he did not ordinarily use during a workday.
“I could have been a wedding photographer,” Pops told himself as he struggled. “Bridezilla must be less dangerous than snakes.”
By the time Pops floated to the dock, he was sweating and tired. He pulled the canoe from the lake onto the shore and carried it to the rack. Reorienting himself, he walked past the other cars in the parking lot toward the spot where he left the rental car. There were three fishing boats drifting on the lake, but no one paid any attention to his presence.
“That went well,” Pops congratulated himself. He was impatient, wanting to sit in the car and check the pictures to figure out which ones would bring the most money. He would send those choice photos while he waited at the airport for his flight.
***
AS SHE WAITED IN THE parking lot for the towed car’s driver, Chief pulled on a floppy fishing hat. Keeping the trunk lid up to hide the badge on the license plate, she tidied her car. During a trip to the recycling bin by the picnic tables, she spotted a man pulling a canoe out of the water. A camera with a long lens hung from his neck. She reasoned this had to be the paparazzi guy.
Chief watched as Pops made his way through the parking lot toward the now empty space where the towed car had been parked. Pops looked around, seeming unsure if he was in the right spot. He turned around twice, looking in every direction.
“Shit...shit, shit, shit,” Pops began a new mantra.
“Everything okay?” Chief called over to where Pops was making himself dizzy whirling around.
“Shit. My car’s been stolen.”
“What did your car look like?” Chief walked toward Pops, her hat pulled low.
“It was gray, 4 doors.”
“Ah, must have been your car I saw the tow truck leave with a few minutes ago.”
“Shit. Why would they tow it?”
“Did you park there? On the grass?”
“Yes. Why?”
“See the sign over there?” Chief pointed to the No Parking on the Grass sign. “They do that all the time. Pisses me off. Had my car towed once, too. They just want your money.” Chief was laying it on thick to gain Pop’s confidence.
“No shit. Where do they take the car? ”
“City impound.”
“Guess I need a taxi—is there even a taxi or ride service in this place?”
“Good luck finding a driver who’ll come all the way out here. Take an hour, at least.”
“Damn. I have a plane to catch.” Pops searched his pockets for his cell phone.
“Hey, would you like a ride to town? I’m probably not going to catch anything today anyway. I can drop you off at the impound. It’s on my way home.”
“Really? That would be great. I’ll pay you.” Pops wanted to add, anything to get out of this hell-hole, but decided to not chance offending a local.
“Ah, no problem. Hate to see people treated bad. In fact, maybe we can catch the driver before he drops the car. Those guys stop at the diner on the north side of town, just hang out. If he’s there, bet if you buy his lunch, he’ll let you have the car. They don’t give a shit where their money comes from,” Chief spoke rapid-fire, reeling Pops in.
“Great. Thanks. Let’s go.”
“Sure, let me grab my reels from the fishing pier over there. Would you mind giving me a hand? I set up four this morning. Don’t want to leave ‘em out here. They’re expensive and some yahoo will come along and steal ‘em.” Chief walked toward the fishing pier hoping Pops would follow. “Do you want to leave your camera in my car?”
“No, it’s fine.” Pops scurried alongside his volunteer driver.
Chief was counting on the regulars having left a few rods at the end of the pier. In the summer some of the old fishers would say they were leaving fishing poles for the kids, but really it was just in case they were driving past and wanted to stop and cast a line.
As Chief and Pops reached the long wooden pier, there were indeed four rods lined up on the other end. The poles did not look expensive, but the visual was good enough to keep up the story. Chief proceeded along the pier with Pops beside her. The camera was hanging on Pops’ side, the strap slung over one shoulder.
“You one of those nature photographers?” Chief sounded mildly interested.
“Birds mostly.” Pops had used the story before even though he knew next to nothing about feathered fowl. If it was red it must be a cardinal, anything blue was a blue jay, and everything else was just something that might leave a mess on his car.
Chief tripped as she neared the end of the pier, bumping into Pops just enough to cause him to lose his balance and lurch off the pier into the water. The water was about five feet deep at the point where Pops belly flopped and submerged. He quickly broke through surface, found his footing to stand, and gasped for air.
“What the fuck? What’d you do that for?” Pops sputtered.
“I’m sorry,” Chief did her best contrite look, “I’m so clumsy. Here, let me help you.”
Pops grabbed at a plank on the pier to pull himself up but lost his grip and fell back in the water. At that point he gave up and swam toward shore. Emerging from the water, soaked and dripping, disgust enveloped his face as he looked at his dripping camera. He felt his pocket for his phone, which was undoubtedly frying its own insides as he stood there.
Chief looked at him, not bothering to contain a smirk.
Pops instantly flushed red with anger. “You did that on purpose, you—” Pops charged Chief, taking a swing that grazed her chin.
On his follow through, Chief gave Pops a little trip, shoving him to the ground. She stepped back as the soaked paparazzi scrambled to his feet for another charge.
Chief pulled the badge from her back pocket, holding it directly in front of Pops face. “You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”
Pops halted, eyes focusing on the face in front of him. Chief’s hat had come off during the altercation and he recognized her from a picture at one of Jamie’s openings. “You’re...shit.”