Chapter 4

I got to the horse show to find my display covered, but still in place. I removed the sheet and opened the folding chair. I left people looking around while I went to shoot the horse show in progress. The show featured five gait walking horses, and their riders. I got a few shots full frame, then went back and loaded them into the digital picture frame. I chose the loop option, then turned it on.

The arena was ordinarily used for rodeo events, so there were barns all around. Even though they were indoors, there were people coming and going all the time. Anything, even near erotic was going to be hard to manage. That might not be a problem, I thought. Cathy hadn’t shown at that moment.

I sat around until the show ended, Cathy showed up during the sign off. I had sold two prints along with the digital files, so I made a few bucks. More importantly, I sold one to an adult horse owner. She agreed to let me shoot an image of my ‘friend’s’ daughter with her horse. If the friend showed up at all.

The friend of course was Cathy. “Sorry, I’m so late, but I had a hard time finding you.”

“It’s okay maybe the lady who is going to let us use her horse is still here,” I said.

“Hey, I don’t do no horses,” she said seriously.

“Don’t worry, you just have to stand beside her and show a little cleavage,” I said.

“I can do that,” she agreed.

It was to be the only shot I had time for. I did get three versions of it. Before without warning she started to slowly unbutton her blouse. Her eyes were not focused on me. They were focused on the horses owner. I made a couple of shots before I shut her down.

“That enough Cathy,” I said. I had about eight version of the shots. Hoped I could salvage a couple at least. The horses owner was locked in a serious conversation with Cathy as I packed up my equipment.

“Well that was fun. Too bad there were so many people around,” she said with a flirtatious smile.

“Not really this is just business for me,” I said.

“Oh then you are gay?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. I have a couple of ex-wives who might agree with you though,” I said.

“Sorry Les,” she said with a smile.

“Flash kid, not every man want so see your body,” I said. Yes I was eager to deflate her ego a little. I had no idea how Lynne would feel about it. I was sure Cathy would report it to her, and frankly I didn’t care. The upscale hooker clients had proven to be boring as hell.

When I got home, I checked my email and went to bed immediately. My phone was playing my ring tone over and over before it woke me at 3AM. “Hello,” I groaned into the phone.”

“Send me the images from the horse show shoot, and I’ll cut you a check,” Lynne said.

“Fair enough, I have no idea why, but it sounds like a good idea to me,” I stated emphatically. “Call me in the morning.”

“Cathy refuses to have you take her picture ever again,” Lynne said.

“Fair enough,” I said. I broke the connection and tried to return to sleep. I was surprised how easy it was.

I got through with breakfast before I heard from Lynne again. “I think that Cathy has a problem,” she said as she stood on my rear deck.

“That would be my guess as well,” I said. “You might want to learn what really happens, before you jump to conclusions next time.”

“You didn’t tell me that she made an ‘off the books’ date with a horse owner,” Lynne said.

“I’m a photographer not a snitch. Plus I didn’t know for sure that she had done that. I just knew she had a whispered conversation after the photos. Now the horse owner knows I have hookers as a clients. I hope I don’t have to mend fences for something I have nothing to do with. I did lie to the horse’s owner, so she might think I was part of it. She didn’t make the contact, I did. Maybe the cops could make a case for soliciting from that. A conviction is not likely, but who know what a bible belt jury might do.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Lynne said.

“Then she didn’t try to sell her ass to that woman,” I said.

“She did that. I got wind of it when the woman called to set the date. It seems the client wouldn’t go for sex in the back of a horse trailer,” Lynne explained.

“So you kept Cathy on your staff?” I asked.

“No, but I could keep her. I hadn’t told her she was through booking her own dates yet. I should have done that before I sent her to you. Oh she thinks you are gay,” Lynne said.

“Maybe I am,” I said.

“If you were gay, you would be more fastidious,” she said looking around.

“Probably,” I admitted.

“You also love the female body. I can tell that because your pictures are made with such love. It shows through,” she said.

“That’s a compliment. If I didn’t know better I would think you were trying to turn my head,” I suggested.

“Not a chance, but I would like to see Cathy’s pictures. Maybe I can help you edit them,” she said.

“If they need that much editing, they get tossed and I just move on to another version,” I explained.

“Okay, can I bribe you then?” she asked.

“No, but you can try,” I suggested.

“How about a sloppy blow job,” she asked.

“It’s tempting, but I’m going to keep it strictly business. You can see them after I do the elimination review,” I said.

“Then you do that and I’ll make some of your terrible coffee,” she said.

“It’s not far to the drive threw at McDonald’s,”I suggested.

“I’m beginning to like that bitter shit you make,” she said.

“No offense intended, but shut the fuck up. I have a huge amount of reviewing to do today,” I explained. Since she was waiting, I did her girl Cathy first. I narrowed it to eight images. I let her look at them before I did the tiny adjustments that need to be done to them.

“I like this one and this one. She looks kind of like a country girl, but a little lost as well,” she suggested.

I certainly hadn’t meant to show that. When I got to the ones where she had been flirting with the house woman, Lynne said, “My god she is so sexy there.”

“It was nothing I did. I was just a matter of capturing the moment,” I explained.

“Not everyone can do that sometimes, the photographer gets so full of himself, he has to force a shot. Would you do these two for a hundred bucks. Don’t even tweak them. I want them a little raw looking,” Lynne said.

“A hundred for the two shots and fifty for the aggravation. You can charge it off to Cathy,” I suggested.

“Done,” she said.

Lynne took her flash drive and left. I went to work on the wedding. I wanted to get it onto the Web site before the day ended.

I reviewed them until after lunch but I did finish them before dinner. I drove the Hyundai to the drive through at McDonald’s. I ordered a Big Mac without fries, but I did get a large sweet tea. I drove the short distance to the lake’s overlook to eat. I needed to decompress before I started to tweak the images of the horse show.

The overlook was occupied by my Hyundai Accent and a couple of other cars. I had finished my Burger and was working on the last of my ice tea when the state patrol car pulled into the parking lot. I knew that I hadn’t done anything, so I wasn’t worried. I did have the .38, but it was locked in a the zf50 camera’s backpack.

Fortunately the state cops just wanted to take a piss break in the PortaJohn. I recognized him as he walked near my car. His name was George Wells. I didn’t speak. I was just there to relax, not talk over old times. George pulled away from the entrance of the overlook right into the patch of an eighteen wheeler. The Chrysler patrol car seemed to explode. The sound and the damage were consistent with a pipe bomb, but it was a traffic accident.

I left my car and rushed as fast as my fucked up hip joint would allow. When I reached the scene of the accident I called 911 for an ambulance. I explained the accident to the operator hoping to get a priority response. I was fighting off a panic attack, but I had experience at that.

I checked both bodies. The truck driver was DOA. George was going to wish he was before he was completely healed. It looked as thought George had a broken right arm and some kind of injury to his right shoulder. He most likely had some broken ribs. I left him suspended from his seat belt system. The airbag had maybe saved his life, not that he was going to give a shit for a while. His face was a bloody mess, but he was breathing. Since his airway was open at least partially, I decided not to risk freeing him from the seat belt. I stayed with him until the ambulance arrived. I showed them to George inside his demolished patrol car. Then I got the hell out of the way.

The highway patrol came in sirens blasting. I just stayed out of the way. I really wanted to throw up, then go into shock, but I fought the urges. I would have gotten my camera out, but I knew the cops wouldn’t appreciate it. They didn’t know it was my way of coping. I just returned to the Hyundai. There I finished the Iced tea, and settled in. I started what I knew was going to be a long wait to get home.

When I did get home, I buried myself in the horse show images review. I admit that I got lost in the work, I always did. It was probably what kept me sane. It was also why I resisted retirement until it was mandatory. Even then I worked at staying too busy to feel sorry for myself. That would happen when the horse show review ended, and last at least until I started some new project.

My first priority was to market the images I had made on speculation. I had absolutely no expectations for them. The horse show would likely be a ‘no sale’ event. But if I got some people to look at my website because of it, then it would be a win for me. By keeping my postings from events to those within twenty miles, every visitor was a potential customer. It was a good thing that I had a compulsion to work.

“Les?” the voice on my cell suggested.

“That’s me, so who are you?” I asked.

“Roger Heart, you haven’t forgotten me so quickly have you?” the voice asked.

“I remember you Roger I heard you got promoted. So you still working the rat squad?” I asked just to piss him off.

“You still a cop wanna be?” he asked.

“That was just a phase I was going through. So what can I do for you?” I asked.

“Tell me what you and George Wells were doing at the overlook,” Roger demanded.

“That sounds awfully official, do I need a lawyer?” I asked.

“I don’t know do you?” he answered.

“I was having a big mac and a glass of iced tea,” I said.

“Anyone see you there?” he asked.

“There were two cars with kids in them. They were doing god only know what. They may or may not remember me. That’s all I can tell you,” I said. “So why all the questions from the rat squad?”

“Sorry I can divulge that,” Roger replied.

“Okay like I said next time arrest me or, I’m not talking to you,” I suggested.

“Right, by the way there was nobody else at the scene when the highway Patrol arrived.” he said as I broke the connection.

“Asshole,” I said out loud. I was close to calling Deacon first, then his daughter but I didn’t. Before I spent my money on a lawyer, I wanted to be sure I needed one.

I had a clean slate by Monday morning. I also had been able to get six hours of sleep. I had just finished my morning shower when I got a call. I didn’t know it when I answered, but it was from Mrs. Well.

“Mr Martin, I’m Leslie Wells could I speak with you?” she asked.

“Of course ma’am,” I answered.

“Could we meet somewhere away from everything and everyone?” she asked.

“My house fits that bill,” I said.

“No, they may be watching you,” she said.

“Then you pick the place,” I suggested.

“How about that park in Grenada. The one with the caboose that kids play on,” she suggested.

“Sure, but when?” I asked.

“How about in half and hour,” she suggested.

“I can do that,” I said.

I didn’t recognize anyone in the park, so I sat on a bench with two coffees from McDonald’s. I drank mine, since it was June the weather wasn’t an issue. I looked at the clock on my cell phone several times. I decided that I had waited fifteen minutes, so ten more and I was going home.

Mr Martin would you walk to the parking lot and I’ll pick you up,” Leslie ordered.

“Why all the cloak and dagger shit?” I asked. I knew something was wrong and I didn’t feel like cutting her any slack.

“I’m sorry George has me terrified of everyone,” she said.

“Is he awake yet?” I asked.

“Yes, but they won’t let me speak to him yet. I came here from the hospital. I wanted to ask you, are you sure it was an accident?” she asked.

“As far as I could tell it was yes,” I said. “It was like he just pulled out without looking,”

“Maybe he had something else on his mind,” she said. “I got a call from a lieutenant from the Professional Standards Unit. They were asking me all kinds of questions. They thought George was doing something wrong. Taking money or something.”

“That lieutenant called me. He sounded like he thought your husband and I had a meeting at that overlook site. Truth is George didn’t meet anyone there. He went into the PortaJohn and then left,” I explained.

“I have no idea what they are thinking. I guess they are concentrating on you because you worked together once,” she said.

“That and I was on the scene, so I was the last to see him before the accident,” I said. George had transferred out of CID a couple of years before I retired. Even so he stayed in the Greenwood area since he was also close to retirement.