Why had he even come to work today? He should have skipped out when he found the camera in Lillie Ulster’s bag. How stupid he was. He’d walked right into this.
Kyle watched while the police searched the treatment room. As each drawer and cabinet was opened, he held his breath, praying that they didn’t find his own secret camera. Folded towels and sheets were shaken open and thrown onto the floor. Bottles, jars, and tubes were tossed aside. Canisters of cotton pads, balls, and swabs were emptied.
“What have we here?” asked a cop, holding up a syringe and a bottle.
“Bag it,” replied the detective.
As the search continued, Kyle began feeling hopeful that maybe they wouldn’t find the camera after all. But when the detective’s phone rang, Kyle sensed that the news wasn’t going to be good. He wanted to smack the smug, self-satisfied expression off the dick’s face as he listened to the caller.
“Oh, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle. What have you been doing, you naughty boy?” asked the detective when the phone call ended. “I hear you like going to the movies, don’t you? My buddies just found a very interesting little video library at your apartment, you freakin’ pervert.”