$4.25
$1.50
“She’s in there,” he said, leaning in through the window of Deanna’s silver Volkswagen bug.
“How long have they been in there?” she asked, getting out of the car.
“Fifteen, twenty minutes tops,” he answered, slightly hunching his shoulders. She nodded as she reached in the car and grabbed her camera from the dashboard.
“Let’s go.” She stepped on the curb and began to walk down the narrow sidewalk. Walking next to her, keeping in step, he glanced in her direction looking for any sign of nervousness. They walked briskly to the back of the motel.
The fresh, crisp October air mixed with the pungent stench of the week’s worth of rotten food and garbage that filled a nearby dumpster.
“Which room?” she asked, her nose instinctively crinkling.
“The one on the end,” he said, pointing. “Second floor.”
She looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching, then pulled him behind her as she stepped between the hedges. “Give me a boost,” she said, looping the camera strap around her neck. He watched her anxiously, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“What?”
“Boost me up onto the balcony,” she answered, jerking her thumb upward as she met his gaze. “How do you think I’m going to get the shots?”
Knowing not to argue with her, he held his hands out. She put her booted foot in his palm, and he hoisted her up to the balcony.
After grabbing the rail, and pulling herself up, she swung one leg and then the other over and quickly ducked down. She moved closer to the sliding glass door and peered in; she saw a small desk with a chair next to a dresser with a television set on top of it. She moved over a little more so she could see the entire room, which included a full-size bed with a pea-green blanket. Her subject was sitting on the bed topless, humming carelessly to herself.
“C’mon, baby, I can’t wait forever,” the woman called out.
A minute later, the bathroom door opened. A man wearing light blue boxers walked out. His eyes filled with lust as he watched her full, bare breasts move with each breath. He smiled in anticipation of the excitement that was to come.
Click. Click. She took two shots.
“What was that?” he asked, looking at the window. “Did you hear something?”
“Oh shit,” Deanna whispered. Standing quickly, she smiled to herself as her adrenalin began to pump. The man took four steps to the patio door and threw it open as she threw her leg over the rail. He reached for her, his fingers barely missing her jacket as she jumped. She hit the ground with a thud and started running.
“Come back here, you bitch!” he yelled, leaning over the balcony.
Deanna Meyers, private investigator and owner of Meyers Investigators, looked at her employee.
“Great job, Chris,” she said breathlessly as they ran around the corner, racing back to their cars. “I’ll see you at the office.”
