Yew to a Kill
Page 23
The world of videography had come to me through a similar avenue, and I worried endlessly my faux pas in the home movie industry would make its way into mainstream South Lake life to ruin me. Even the idea someone might innocently discover I had done such a thing made my stomach hurt.
Now, the one person in this two-dog town who could reduce me to a quaking, shivering mass of slobber had fallen victim to something similar. I tried to sound nonchalant. “Sexy videos, huh? Maybe they were fakes? You can do a lot with video editing these days.”
“I don’t know and don’t really want to know. Suffice it to say, she got nailed from fancy video work. Although I bet you’re more of an authority on that than me, eh? Maybe I’ll use you in court as a professional analyzer. At any rate, I’m working for her estranged and unhappy hubby. He’s convinced she’s guilty as charged.”
I shoved my Styrofoam plate away and dug in my tote for a small container of Tums. The thought of being on a witness stand discussing the technical aspects of videography when it surrounds bedroom activities gave me instant indigestion.
“No, thanks,” I replied. “I don’t want to be in a court of law ever, and especially not on opposite sides from her.”
Jimmy slurped sweet tea through his straw, rubbed his hands on moist hand wipes, and sat back with a satisfied sigh, oblivious to my discomfiture. “Suit yourself,” he said. “I’m just doing my job and thinking of ways to do it best. Speaking of jobs, what about my offer to film the house?”
I glanced at him and gave it some thought. My lack of funds at the moment certainly clouded better judgment but what else could I do? I had to have money and he was willing to pay me.
“How much?”
“Two grand.”
“Two grand? For shooting household items?” My voice rose as the incredulousness of his offer hit me. “Whoa. Adams, Butler, and Cook must be doing well to be able to hand out cash in that size.”
He shrugged a bit too innocently for my taste. His firm touted themselves as the A, B, C of attorneys, and handled all manner of cases. Even ones like this where a couple was out to get everything they could by digging in, and hurting as much as possible. It made the law firm seem on the low-life side of things, but who was keeping score?
“Sure could use the money,” I added, chewing another of the chalky antacid tablets. “Dwayne would be totally happy.”
“Well, I’ll just tell you, if our poor old teacher-lady hopes to get any alimony or other spousal support out of Mr. Denaldo, she’d better think of some new ways to say please. He intends to get the whole tamale and cut her out of everything if she so much as blinks. She’d be a fool to refuse to allow you to come in with a camera.”
I straightened the napkins lying on the plastic-topped table. “What would I have to do exactly?”
His smile said he smelled victory. “First off, you would need to go over and talk to her, tell her what you do, get her comfortable. And while you’re there, get her to sign these forms giving you permission to do the shoot.” He reached down, pulled papers out of his brown briefcase, and waved them at me. “All you need to know about the case is right here.”
“Why can’t you go over and do this? I’m totally against doing it. I mean, what might happen when my old teacher and I meet again? My reputation in South Lake society would be at stake if I make her mad. And being a party of the second part to her husband’s lawyer and their plan to strip her of everything would certainly not make her happy.”
“I can’t do it. I have court.” He grinned and shoved the papers across the table toward me. “Your check for two thousand dollars is just waiting to be written out by the way. Get the job done and the money is yours.”
“Talk about presumption! You already knew I’d do this?” I gaped at the neatly typed pages and thought about a check made out to Video Angels.
Damn.
Two thousand dollars was a wealth of money. There was a lot of wiggle room if we plunked two thousand dollars in the Video Angels’ bank account.
“You can do this, Shannon,” he added, “All you have to do is to get friendly with her before you film her worldly goods.”
Friendly? Whatever!
I stood, snatched the papers up, and flipped my tote off the back of my chair with the flick of my index finger. “Fine. But just so you know, no matter what else happens, I tried to get out of this. It’s on your head if I’m ruined because of it.”
He was still frowning at that as I flounced out of the barbeque place and into the suffocating July heat.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kim Smith has written over 300,000 words in mystery, romance, and YA fantasy. After several failed attempts at traditional publishing with small publishers, Kim leaped into indie publishing with a vengeance. She hopes to begin turning them out at a quick step so that her readers will get all things Kim Smith in short order.
Kim lives in the mid-south region of the US with her husband of many years, and her Chihuahua dog, Darby, who demands to be in a book one day. Kim is a photographer, videographer, writer, and coffee-fiend. In addition, she’s also a podcaster for the wonderful podcast, Writer Groupie at http://www.writergroupie.net where she hosts other authors and industry pros.
KIM’S BOOK LIST
All of Kim’s books can be found (with buy links!) on her website at http://www.kimsmithauthor.com/books