Free His Secrets - Episode 1 by GL Corbin Page A

less likely to attract attention. People were far more suspicious when they saw someone sneaking around. If Drake or Anderson spotted her, and came to the door, Chris had her cover story ready – she was conducting a survey for a local telecoms company. That was guaranteed to get the door slammed in her face.
     
    It was too risky to peer into the windows at the front of the bungalow. Instead, Chris made her way around the side of the building. Light streamed through the panes of glass either side of the door. She took the camera from the case – one or two good shots were all she needed. Chris didn't usually resort to what she called 'fuck shots' – it wasn't necessary, and she wasn't in the porn business. An embrace or passionate kiss was all she needed, and it saved her client from unnecessary pain. There were other PIs who always went for the 'fuck shot', but that said more about them than it did about the couples they had caught.
     
    At the rear of the house, she could hear voices. The light from the window flooded onto the patio. Just as she had hoped, the curtains hadn't been drawn. The back of the house was not overlooked by neighbouring properties, and was sheltered from view by bushes, trees and a wooden fence which bordered the garden at the rear.  Chris crept over to the shed which was to the right of the illuminated area. So far, so good. 
     
    Peering around the side of the shed, Chris could see into the lounge. More importantly, she could see the targets who were standing close to the window; they were drinking, laughing and talking. She took the camera from its case, and took a photo. A picture of two work colleagues enjoying a drink might not be enough – Drake might be able to explain that away. She needed something more. If they moved to the bedroom, she was sunk. They might feel comfortable with the lounge curtains open, but the ones in the bedroom were bound to be drawn. Drake put his glass onto the table. Chris had her finger poised over the button.
    'Come on, come on.' In her mind she urged him on.
    Drake took the glass from his lover's hand, and pulled her closer to him. They kissed.
    The cat appeared from nowhere. Chris almost jumped out of her skin, and in the process dropped the camera which hit the ground with a thud. The cat scurried away.
    'Bloody cats.'
    When she looked up, she saw two faces at the window; Alan Drake and the woman were staring straight at her. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment; Drake was the first to move. He raised a fist and shouted. Chris didn't hear what he said because she was already half way down the driveway.
     
    *********
     
     She was soaked to the skin. The car heater, even on full blast, did little to warm her. Drake had followed her as far as the end of the driveway, but by then she was already in the car. She'd been afraid he might step out into the road to try to stop her, but he had simply waved his fist as she drove by.
     
    What would her father have made of tonight’s pantomime?
     
    “Totally unprofessional, Christine.”
     
    Her father had always called her by her given name even though she had told him a million times she preferred ‘Chris’. Totally unprofessional was right - her father would never have made such an almighty balls-up. But then, her father wouldn’t have wasted his time taking on infidelity cases. He had been in the business for almost thirty five years, and had built up a solid reputation for criminal and corporate investigations.
     
    Back in her apartment, Chris was relieved to get out of her wet clothes. The shower was steaming hot, and just what she needed to thaw out. She tilted her head back, and savoured the feel of the water on her face.
    Chris had told Celia Drake she would phone her to let her know how things had gone. No doubt the poor woman would be sitting next to the phone waiting for the call - the call which might signal the end of her marriage. The stupid cat had startled Chris at the exact moment