Sheriff Porter - Cover

Sheriff Porter

Copyright© 2013 by carniegirl

Chapter 122

"So our window of opportunity, if you are tied to that location, is 4PM to 1AM," Mel said.

"I would say so," I replied.

"That is sorta good because I don't like cooking breakfast," she said with a smile.

"It's almost time to go do some basic research," I suggested.

"You mean dinner?" Wilson asked.

"Yes I do," I replied. I drove the Honda up and down Jefferson Island before I swung it onto the mainland and into the slightly rundown watch tower section of town. That is where I found the old fish camp. I had eaten there once with EZ and several times with Wilson. I liked there deep fried baby shrimp.

"I do hope you can find something in here to eat, since you only eat vegan," I said.

"That is just your imagination," Mel said. "I eat everything except red meat. I'm not crazy about fried foods but I can manage the boiled shrimp quite well." She paused a moment then said. "The volume here is good for a Monday night."

"Yes it is," I agreed. "From the way they are dressed, I would suggest there is a cross section of clients. Fishermen to lawyers most likely. As a matter of fact there are a couple of Jewish people who run the pawn shop in town. I also see a real estate agent who tried to sell me a piece of land over there."

"I don't think this area could stand another fish camp style restaurant," she said.

"I know. I just wanted you to see what is available here now," I said.

After dinner we went to sit on the pier on Jefferson Island. We drank a cup of coffee and just looked at the ocean for a while. We did some talking, but mostly it was look out at the waves.

"Tell me something Wilson, can I feed an image into the laser engraver and then get a reasonable sized image engraved on metal out of it?" I asked.

"Up to 11x17 with the one I bought you. Why do you ask," he replied.

"I want to make an image get me a good quality camera. I don't want a fancy professional one with lots of bullshit. I just want a really good, easy to use one," I demanded.

"It will take a few days to get one here. I would say by the weekend," Wilson replied. "We have a lot of specialized camera's already."

"That's not what I want. I want one that is easy to use, not one the I can make a picture of a license plate a hundred yards away. One I have to take ten minute to set up just for that," I replied.

"Okay, I can find you something and have it here pretty quick," he said.

I walked to the end of the pier before I made the call to his private number. "Hey can you do me a favor. Next person you have making the trip down from Church Camp, have him bring Dog to the swamp. I want to make a picture of him in the swamp for Liam," I said almost in tears.

"You got it. I'll call you. How are you and Melody getting on?" he asked.

"Sometimes I think she might have a wire loose somewhere, but she seems to be good hearted," I said.

"Yeah I know," he said. "Whatever she needs get it for her and send me the bill."

"Don't worry we will work something out," I said.

The camera arrived on Thursday. Dog arrived on Friday according to the call from Martin, and I had two full days of training on the camera by Saturday.

Saturday morning I flew into the swamp compound. After that trip I had full access to the compound at anytime according to Martin. Dog met the plane with his handler. A young guy just in his twenties. A career dog trainer with the US Army. He was short a leg which I only noticed because he didn't bother to hide his prosthetic blade inside a boot. He had been a dog handler till the Taliban shot his dog and then shot him as well, with a very large caliber rifle stolen from a dead US ranger sniper. I heard the story from the New Sergeant major. The Sergeant major had been told of the pecking order. Even though I had no rank and no special training, he pretty much minded his manners.

I spent over an hour playing with Dog, before I took my new camera and went into the swamp to make his picture. Dog wasn't a water dog, but he chased that damn ball no matter where it went. I made several pictures with the swamp in the background and Dog standing knee deep in water. None of them seemed just right. Finally Dog stood on a huge fallen log, he was soaking wet and his fur matted, he heard something and perked his ears up. The background was open black water for as far as the shot went. The foreground had a bush in the right corner. I knew I would never get a better picture for my purpose.

I had lunch with the men at the compound, then I flew the canary home. I got home in time to download some free editing software. I did that before I examined the imagines from my day at the swamp. I didn't try to work on them I just examined and evaluated them.

I was surprised and shocked to find the one on the log was the most regal of the shots but not the best for my purpose. That one was a shot I set up as well I made it through the foliage. There was almost a tunnel with Dog's wet stinky body against brown tree trunks. He was isolated from the foreground and background since he was on a bit of a cleared space. He also looked like a wet dog lost in the swamp or just a dog worn completely out but still with it. I wasn't quite sure which.

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