Free Shoe Addicts Anonymous by Beth Harbison Page B

instead of a regular double A, but it turns out to have been one of the luckier things that’s happened to me.”
    “Is that so?”
    He nodded enthusiastically. “I was walking through Ormond’s on my way to my car, and I was fidgeting with the camera to make sure the battery did the trick, when I stumbled upon an incredible scene. I didn’t have any idea I was going to stumble across an actual story, but I did.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “Take a look. It’s good stuff.”
    He’d been planning to find and corner her tonight.
    “I’m not very interested in your work, Mr. Parks.” She didn’t want to see what was in the envelope.
    “Go on, take a look.” He shook it at her, like a lion tamer shaking a steak in order to get his subject’s attention. “I think you’ll find it really interesting.”
    She glared at him wordlessly.
    “Better that you see it from me, now, than on the news tomorrow.”
    Helene took the envelope reluctantly. At this point she was playing her role in the game she had no choice but to play.
    Taking what felt like hours, she opened the envelope and pulled out the neat stack of five-by-seven black-and-white prints within.
    The first was of her, from a distance, talking with Luis in the shoe department of Ormond’s.
    The second showed Luis returning with her credit card extended toward her.
    The third showed Luis returning with her credit card extended toward her again .
    The fourth was a really excellent close-up of the anguish on her face as she spoke to the credit card company on her cell phone.
    The fifth…well, more of the same.
    The sixth—that was the worst one. It showed her looking to the left in a way that clearly illustrated seeing if the coast was clear .
    The seventh showed her putting one of the new shoes on her right foot, her old shoes clearly visible in the box at her feet.
    The eighth was a great shot of the conflict in her face as she pushed the box containing her old shoes under the chair she was sitting on.
    Nine, ten, and eleven showed her striding toward the exit with a gait that seemed confident and an expression that looked doubtful.
    Twelve was opening the door.
    Thirteen—this was a prize—was the security guard, with his super-serious Maryland trooper face on, hurrying after her.
    And fourteen…was history. Along with fifteen through twenty-five. They were just moment-to-moment documentations of Helene’s apprehension and arrest.
    She looked the pictures over, then arranged them into a neat pile—as they’d been presented to her—and handed them back to Gerald Parks. “I’m not sure I understand why these would be of interest to anyone,” she said, but her voice wavered just enough to assure the observant person that yes, she was sure.
    She was painfully sure.
    “Oh, because they are a sequence of photos showing you—frankly, I almost can’t believe the luck—stealing a pair of shoes from a store and then getting caught and actually arrested for it.” He explained it in a voice so friendly that he might have been a local forest ranger telling elementary school kids about the time he found a harmless black snake in his bathtub.
    And took pictures of it.
    It was America’s Funniest Embarrassing Private Moments Caught on Film, and Gerald Parks had just won the grand prize.
    “It was a misunderstanding,” Helene said coolly.
    “Meaning you weren’t shoplifting?” He shook his head. “Not according to my source.”
    “And who is your source?” She wanted to stay calm, but it was obvious, just from looking at the pictures, that she was guilty as sin—and no one looking at them would believe the story she’d told Jim.
    “Now, Mrs. Zaharis, if I told you that, I might endanger that person. And, more important, the story.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I think newspapers would pay a lot of money for this, I really do.”
    “Newspapers aren’t interested in me.”
    “Don’t be so modest.” God, how could he