Pied Sniper, page 8
I looked curiously at Lily’s bag, visibly leaking thick drops on the floor. She followed my gaze and sighed. “I may need a moment.”
“You know where the kitchen is.” I closed the door while Lily hurried ahead. “Hi, Solomon!” she trilled, dashing past him to the sink. When I entered the kitchen, I grabbed paper towels to clean up the mess she made and asked, “Why only one apple?”
“I ate the other one on the way over here.”
“Are you okay?”
Lily glanced over her shoulder. “Sure. Why?”
“Your ordeal!”
“You mean the arrest?” Lily grinned as she emptied her bag, settling the small pile of snacks on the counter. I was pretty sure my mom’s coffee cake was in the plastic box. “Everyone was so nice.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“Yes! I got a delicious recipe for apple strudel, a referral for a great party planner for Poppy’s future birthdays, and there’s a strong possibility Lily’s Bar will be the selected venue for the detectives’ fundraiser next month!”
Solomon looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I shrugged. I didn’t have a clue either.
Lily set her purse on the drainer and turned around, leaning against the counter. “So where do we start?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I prefer not to be arrested but since it turned out to be a reasonably positive experience, I can’t complain too much. Plus, your mom and dad were so lovely. They insisted on us bringing home several prepared meals so Jord and I can take it easy this week.”
My jaw dropped. “Mom never makes me food when I’m in trouble!”
“She’s very disappointed in you,” said Lily, glancing at me. “Hey, what happened to the dog? Do you still have it?”
I winced in guilt. The fluffy, little dog barely crossed my mind. I was more worried about Lily. “No. An officer from the canine unit took him,” I told her.
“Oh! Who gets him after them? That dog is definitely not police material.”
It was a good question. Who gets the dog? Tiffany didn’t have any family and I recalled her saying her assistant was out of town. Maybe her boyfriend would look after him, although now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him in any of her recent videos or photos.
“We could take care of the dog,” I suggested, looking semi-hopefully at Solomon. I wasn’t even sure I wanted a dog but Elf was so cute, I figured if I did want one, I wanted one just like him.
“Hmmm,” said Solomon, cutting me a side glance like he suspected it would be longer than a temporary visit.
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“It’s a no?”
“It isn’t that either.” He paused. “You’ve never mentioned any desire to own a dog before.”
“I didn’t know I might want one.”
“He’s very small,” said Lily, widening her hands to the approximate size and height.
“He only grew until he was perfect, just…”
“You’re going to say ‘just like me’, aren’t you?” Solomon rolled his eyes when I smiled. “He’s still very small,” pointed out Solomon.
“Size-ist,” I said.
“Look at it,” said Solomon, pointing to the floor. I looked at the floor, imagining the dog’s little face and eagerly wagging tail. “I can’t reasonably walk a dog that size.”
“Why not? Everyone will think it’s adorable.”
“I’m not adorable.”
“Women will think you’re adorable.”
“I don’t care what women think.”
“Don’t spread that around.”
“I feel like I should have some input here,” said Lily, pausing as she unpacked the leaking bag while making a small tower of baby socks, a hat, more snacks, her wallet and other random items. “As a woman, and your sister-in-law, and mostly because I have an opinion.”
“You know what I mean. I care what you think, not a random woman on the street, staring at me while I walk a dog the size of a gerbil,” said Solomon, fixing me with a look.
“Elf is much bigger than a gerbil!”
“What about my opinion?” asked Lily. “Does anyone care what I think?”
“I will make him look like a gerbil.” Solomon sighed, ignoring her. He reached for a bottle of water and laid it on the floor. “Get on that stool so you’re the same height as me and look down.”
“You’re overestimating your height,” I said. Solomon raised his eyebrows so I sighed and climbed on the stool until I was kneeling and slightly taller than him. The bottle of water looked very far away. I couldn’t help wondering how people Solomon’s height avoided bumping their heads on everything and falling over all day long? Life truly was a mystery.
“I’m taller than you now,” I said from my lofty perch. “I should be the same height for an authentic comparison. Piggyback ride?”
Solomon sighed as he shook his head.
“This feels like a no-brainer,” said Lily. “The dog has been traumatized enough.”
“Thank you,” said Solomon.
“Thank you for caring what I think, at last,” Lily shot back.
Solomon held his arms up and I collapsed into them before he gently deposited me on the floor. He leaned in and kissed me. “Plus, there’s the small matter of that other thing,” he whispered, his breath soft against my ear as his hand brushed my stomach. He was careful to use his body to block Lily’s view. “Is there a reason you haven’t stopped snacking that you’d like to share?”
Ahh… The baby thing. I was too tired for practice last night and it didn’t cross my mind. I shrugged. “I’m hungry,” I said.
“What other thing?” asked Lily while she delved into the depths of her purse.
Solomon’s shoulders dropped. “She has the hearing of a bat,” he said. “I’m going to the agency to brief the others. I’ll call and check in with you soon.”
Chapter Six
One of the few things I never had to deal with in my career as a private investigator was too much information. Several times, my targets had no presence online, leaving me the hard task of piecing together both their lives and current movements. Tiffany Rose wasn’t just too much, she was everywhere. It seemed to me she lived her entire adult life online, documenting every single, tiny event in her life to an audience of hundreds of thousands, and that was just the people who clicked “like” or subscribed to her content! I assumed there were many more viewers beyond that public acknowledgment who followed her stealthily. I felt very sure about that because I was one of them. I wondered why none of the lurkers added to the kudos Tiffany clearly craved and for that answer, I had to perform some light mental self-examination. After a few minutes, I decided it was mildly embarrassing to have a fly-on-the-wall interest in someone who really wasn’t doing anything life-changing. Tiffany’s life was fairly vacuous but there was something compelling about being invited to view a stranger’s life, however curated her online persona and content were.
Tiffany would never be a woman that changed the world, but she was certainly competent in telling everyone how she lived in it. I could probably catalog every meal she ate, brunch she attended, PR party, and clothes she received in return for telling her masses of followers all about them. Not only that, but I also knew far too much information about her relationship with Jonathan Brett, who was handsome and chiseled enough to be a male runway model. I also knew exactly how often her PA, Grace was with her, where they usually could be seen and what they did. Like the rest of her apostles, I was even well-versed in the small matter of her “frenemy” status with a rival vlogger who went by the moniker, “Pop Princess,” but was actually Flavia. At least, I assumed that was her real name.
“Why don’t we have picnics like that?” asked Lily, turning her phone screen towards me so I could see the Instagram snap that featured a pink and white gingham blanket edged in pompoms spread beneath a broad oak tree. On top of the blanket was a wicker basket stuffed with plates and flatware, while platters heaped with cold cuts, raw vegetables, and more fruit than a small family could eat in a week were strewn all over it. Tiffany held a champagne flute aloft in one hand, her smile broad and infectious. In her other hand was a tiny plate of delicious-looking truffle chocolates. The caption read, “Impromptu light lunches for two are the best!” followed by a red heart emoji. The post was marked “sponsored.” I turned to the paperwork Abigail Swanson supplied for me, running my finger down a column and gasping when I found out how much Tiffany was paid to advertise the blanket and picnicware.
“Because it would take us a week of planning,” I replied. “Also, we like pizza, chips, and donuts. Plus, no one is willing to pay us a bucket-load of cash to photograph this stuff.”
“True. I like this stuff a lot though. The blanket is cute. I might buy one. Oh! The shop where it came from is tagged! That’s handy.” Lily tapped the screen.
“Tiffany’s work is done. She made a sale,” I said dryly.
“So cynical!”
“That’s what the picture was for! Can you imagine lugging a huge basket like that around on a whim? With all the plates and stuff, it must be super heavy and the food would need its own basket. Plus, no one eats that much fruit.”
“That’s why she has a boyfriend. He’s clearly behind the camera. There’s a little camera emoji with his handle attached in the description.”
“Of course,” I said, noting how many hashtags Tiffany included on her posts. “There absolutely must be fifty hashtags. This is advertising, not real life.”
“You know I don’t recall seeing Jonathan in many of Tiffany’s more recent photos or posts.” Lily thought for a moment before adding, “Or her videos.”
“Isn’t he usually a behind-the-scenes man? But you’re right, I haven’t seen too many photos of him lately either. He’s good-looking, right?”
“This kind of good-looking,” said Lily, holding her phone up again. I looked at a dark-haired man, his hair cut fashionably short at the sides and thick and floppy in the middle. His face bore days-old stubble, neatly shaped on his cheeks and neck, and he wore a fleece-lined denim jacket, a plain blue t-shirt, and tan jeans. He carried an expensive looking camera with a big lens. Behind him was a beautiful sunset in inky blues and pinks. The caption read “Another day.”
“What does ‘another day’ mean?” I wondered aloud.
“Men are very basic creatures. It’s probably literally ‘another day’ in between the one before and the one to come.”
“He might as well have said it was a Thursday.”
“That’s too basic.”
“When was that picture posted?”
“Two days ago.”
I leaned in. “It doesn’t say where. Could it possibly be local? No, there’re mountains in the distance. Did Tiffany mention their relationship was long distance?”
“I don’t know. He must be going nuts. Can you imagine how he must feel knowing his girlfriend was kidnapped while livestreaming on her channel?” said Lily, pulling a face.
I knew how Solomon felt every time I got hurt. And how distressed he was when I was kidnapped by a psycho. I also knew how I felt when someone shot him. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I’ll ask Abigail for his details. The police have probably already interviewed him to rule him out as a suspect but I’ll need to ask him some other questions.”
“You don’t think…” Lily’s jaw dropped open as she placed the phone on the counter. “You don’t think he had something to do with it? He seems so normal and exceptionally cute.”
“So far, we don’t know anything. We need a bigger picture of Tiffany’s life and who was in it. At this point, all we’ve got are her manager, Abigail, her boyfriend, Jonathan, and her dog, Elf.”
“Don’t forget her personal assistant. She must know a lot about Tiffany’s day-to-day life, including the stuff we never see.”
I made a note of that with a question mark next to the PA’s name. She would probably know more about Tiffany’s daily life than her manager. Maybe even more than her boyfriend. I wonder if Tiffany ever confided in her. They seemed friendly the few times Grace briefly appeared in Tiffany’s videos, usually just long enough to say a cheerful “hey” or wave at the camera.
“We should watch last night’s video again,” I said. “There are parts we never saw and we should also review those crucial minutes where it all goes wrong. Is it still online?”
“Is it still online?” scoffed Lily. “It’s her most watched video! It’s number one on the site, and it’s gone viral. I saw it on the news this morning and clips were being run on all the social media sites. Some of the comments are wild.”
“In what way?”
“The theories of what happened to her span everything from terrorists, human trafficking, to stalkers and, get this, even aliens!”
“Aliens?” I held back a snort of laughter.
“I didn’t put much credence in that. Aliens would have beamed down a bright light,” said Lily. “There was no bright light. Just that red laser dot zipping around.”
“You saw that too? I think it was a laser sight from a gun. I mentioned it to Solomon and he suggested it could have also been a laser pen, only I can’t work out why anyone would bring that kind of tool to a kidnapping?”
“Why would an alien need a gun? I always assumed their technology was far more advanced.”
“Good points,” I agreed even though I was surprised Lily gave any thought to such a ridiculous idea, never mind it was just a theory. I stared at my phone for a long minute. The screen was too small and I wanted to see more details. “I want to watch it on my laptop. This screen is too hard to see on my phone. I’ll be right back.”
“Cool. I’ll see if my purse is any cleaner or still covered in gooey applesauce.”
“The joys of parenting,” I said, making a mental note to never let my future child throw crap like that on my purse. Of course, I had to get pregnant first but that would eventually happen. I was sure of it.
“So many joys,” agreed Lily.
I paused before I left the room and turned back. “Would you have given birth if you knew it could be at the expense of your purses?” I asked.
“Sure. I would have just gotten some kind of plastic liner for all my purses. They don’t tell you things like that in parenting class.” Lily peered at me. “That sounds like an oddly specific question. Does it concern the other thing Solomon was so cagey about before he left?”
“The other thing is: we’re trying for a baby,” I said, unable to hold back my smile.
“Shut up!” screamed Lily.
“Okay,” I agreed, relieved.
“By ‘shut up’, I mean, tell me everything!”
“Confusing! But there’s not a lot to tell. I’m pretty sure you know how babies are made. We’re trying to do that and often.”
“I’m so excited. Who else knows?”
“No one and you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”
“What about Jord?”
“Nope. Not even Jord.”
“Okay, fine. Our marriage needs more mystery anyway. What about your mom?”
“Absolutely not! Under no circumstances! We’ll let her know after it’s born.”
“What if she extracts the information from me? I’m the weak link.”
“Take it to your grave.”
“Better than taking it to the rest of the Graves,” said Lily. “Although, can you imagine all the daughter-in-law points I’ll get for producing that juicy nugget?”
“Your headstone will read ‘juicy nugget’ if you dare reveal it. I do not want my mom checking my ovulation status every day.”
“Consider me suitably threatened.” Lily pulled up a stool and leaned in. “So... how’s it going? How’s your ovulation status?”
“It’s going delightfully well, in my opinion. I have no idea about my ovulation cycle.”
“You’re not tracking it?”
I frowned. “Must I?”
“I don’t know. Poppy just came along. Any sign yet?” Lily pointed to my stomach.
“None whatsoever but it’s only been a couple of months so I didn’t expect anything to happen so soon.”
“I’m so excited.”
“Me too. But—” I pointed to my phone, “we need to concentrate on the task at hand. Tiffany Rose. Let me get my laptop.”
“We could divide the tasks to make it go quicker,” Lily called after me.
I stuck my head back around the door. “That’s a good idea, but first, I’d like both of us to take another look at last night’s video. Perhaps we’ll notice something new we didn’t see last night.”
“Jord says the detectives on the case scoured it already and worked right through the night.”
“I agree, but are they Tiffany’s followers?”
“It would be weird if they were.”
“Exactly. We are her audience. We know her far better than they do. We might notice something they dismissed as insignificant.”
“Okay. Let’s watch. Get your laptop.”
“I’ve been trying.” I left my laptop in my bag in the hallway and it didn’t take long to retrieve it, plug it in and turn it on. When I found Tiffany’s shocking last video, the views were astronomical and it was still trending as the number one viewed video on the site.
“This video is reaching far more than Tiffany’s regular fans,” I said. “What happened must have spread by word of mouth, and through the other media outlets.”
“A lot of people are fascinated by a woman being hurt,” observed Lily.
“No surprises there.” I got a sinking feeling as I wondered how many people took pleasure in watching horrible things. Of course, some were merely curious about what happened and didn’t want to be left out of the loop, especially if it were a hot topic on their friends’ lips and fingertips. Another contingent were amused by seeing a calamity befall a successful, wealthy, attractive woman.
“No,” sighed Lily.
“I am surprised the site didn’t take the video down but perhaps the content still falls within their guidelines.” I hit play and an ad immediately appeared for a fashion brand. “That’s why,” I said, pointing at the screen. “They’re making money every time someone clicks on it. Why would the site cut off that income stream?”
_preview.jpg)
_preview.jpg)
