LJ Idol Week 1: Empty Gesture
I spend the evening looking over the documents Andrea gave me. Not really a lot to go on. Carol's flight itinerary. Her cell phone number and email address. I’m not sure what I'm supposed to do with that. A picture of Carol. A picture of Jason. It is supposed to be Jason.
Jason's photograph interests me the most. It is the most questionable piece of information, but it still might tell me something. The picture is of a young man, five-foot-ten with blonde hair, a nice tan, wearing white pants. I realize he is a very pretty man. He is standing on a wooden pier with what I'm assuming is the Pacific behind him. There is something wrong with the picture. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I set it aside. I'll worry about it more later. For now, I have other business. Other clients who need me. I did go over the information, though. And, I will think about it while I am out. I'll tell Andrea, if she asks, that I spent the day researching Carol and Jason. I didn't, but so long as I appear to have been, so long as I make the gesture, she'll believe it. Which means I'll get paid.
I don't expect my clients to think that I am exclusively working for them. But, I need to at least appear that whomever I’m talking to at the moment is the case that is getting my top priority.
Once it gets dark I go to Jimmy's. He has lights and heat for free and food and drink for reasonable rates. I order a beer, burger and chips and wait for Flash.
Debbie is another of my clients. I have a meeting with her tomorrow afternoon although she doesn't know about it, yet. She has a pre-nuptial clause in her marriage that if her husband is found to be at fault, then she gets half of the estate in the divorce. A few months ago, she fell in love with another man and came to me for proof that he was at fault.
It took weeks of following both of them. He was easier to tail. A man who isn't doing anything wrong doesn't look over his shoulder. A man with nothing to hide doesn't get caught in a lie. I filled three flash drives with pictures of him, trying to get the right angle. The right resolution. The perfect picture.
Last Tuesday, I took all of my pictures to an associate I know here at Jimmy's. When he arrives, I flag him over. Jimmy brings him a turkey club and a Mt Dew. Flash always gets the same thing and never has to order it. And, rarely has to pay for it. Tonight, his dinner is on my tab.
"Nice to see you, Jack," he says with a handshake. "How goes things?" I tell him that things go like an ice cream eating puppy. Everywhere, and always messy. He laughs a little too loud for the bar and we get nervous glances from other people. I don't know what their nervous about. He isn't attracting attention to them.
He is just making a sign that he isn't nervous. A sign meant to settle my own nerves.
Jason's photograph interests me the most. It is the most questionable piece of information, but it still might tell me something. The picture is of a young man, five-foot-ten with blonde hair, a nice tan, wearing white pants. I realize he is a very pretty man. He is standing on a wooden pier with what I'm assuming is the Pacific behind him. There is something wrong with the picture. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I set it aside. I'll worry about it more later. For now, I have other business. Other clients who need me. I did go over the information, though. And, I will think about it while I am out. I'll tell Andrea, if she asks, that I spent the day researching Carol and Jason. I didn't, but so long as I appear to have been, so long as I make the gesture, she'll believe it. Which means I'll get paid.
I don't expect my clients to think that I am exclusively working for them. But, I need to at least appear that whomever I’m talking to at the moment is the case that is getting my top priority.
Once it gets dark I go to Jimmy's. He has lights and heat for free and food and drink for reasonable rates. I order a beer, burger and chips and wait for Flash.
Debbie is another of my clients. I have a meeting with her tomorrow afternoon although she doesn't know about it, yet. She has a pre-nuptial clause in her marriage that if her husband is found to be at fault, then she gets half of the estate in the divorce. A few months ago, she fell in love with another man and came to me for proof that he was at fault.
It took weeks of following both of them. He was easier to tail. A man who isn't doing anything wrong doesn't look over his shoulder. A man with nothing to hide doesn't get caught in a lie. I filled three flash drives with pictures of him, trying to get the right angle. The right resolution. The perfect picture.
Last Tuesday, I took all of my pictures to an associate I know here at Jimmy's. When he arrives, I flag him over. Jimmy brings him a turkey club and a Mt Dew. Flash always gets the same thing and never has to order it. And, rarely has to pay for it. Tonight, his dinner is on my tab.
"Nice to see you, Jack," he says with a handshake. "How goes things?" I tell him that things go like an ice cream eating puppy. Everywhere, and always messy. He laughs a little too loud for the bar and we get nervous glances from other people. I don't know what their nervous about. He isn't attracting attention to them.
He is just making a sign that he isn't nervous. A sign meant to settle my own nerves.