Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Sadie
Ifound myself checking my mirrors a million times, including twisting back to check the back seat, on the drive to Lyle's house.
Somehow, all of this felt less sinister under a bright blue sky.
Maybe the fighters had already given up on getting hold of the photo.
Maybe they were putting together a press release to tell the world about their love affair.
That thought made me laugh. While many people were now free to share their sexual preferences, that wasn't always the case for famous people.
Especially when their fierce masculinity was at the core of their fame.
It was really quite extraordinary to think these two men had to fight a vicious battle in public while under the surface they were passionately in love.
Or, at the very least, passionately attracted to each other.
I reached Lyle's house on the quiet cul-de-sac.
I felt confident no one had followed me.
I was also immensely relieved to see Lyle's red truck in the driveway.
Lyle and I had met in photography classes at community college.
Dad railed against me taking such frivolous classes, but I ignored him.
Lyle went on to work as a freelance photographer, but he wasn't big on traveling the world.
He ended up working in a family photography studio in a strip mall, a waste of his talent, but as he put it "a steady income was nothing to bitch about. "
I'd really jumped into stealth mode. I got out of the car and looked around several times, startling when a gray cat jumped up on a corner fence.
I hurried to Lyle's door and knocked. I hadn't seen him in several months, but the last time we spoke he'd had a bad breakup with his boyfriend.
And shitty friend that I was, I hadn't checked in on him since.
The door opened. Lyle was dressed in a pair of red running shorts and had earbuds dangling around his neck. "Well, look who finally decided to visit her old friend Lyle."
"I know, I'm a terrible friend. Can I come in?" I tried to hide the urgency in my tone, but my attempt failed.
Lyle's smile faded. "What's wrong? There's something wrong, I can tell." He reached out, grabbed my hand and pulled me into his house. It was a small two-bedroom rental but in a nice part of town.
He shut the door. I glanced back. "Remember to lock it."
"What the hell is going on, Sadie?" He turned the dead bolt. "Why are you clutching your camera as if it might run away from you?" His face smoothed with comprehension. "You've got something on there, don't you? Oh my god, what is it? Did you catch a murder on film? Who was it? Someone we know?"
"No murder, so calm down. You're listening to way too many of those true crime podcasts."
"Guilty as charged." He laughed. "Clever pun and I wasn't even trying." As he spoke, he drew shut the curtains. "Are we being watched?"
"I hope not."
His face snapped my direction. "I was just kidding. Holy shit, what exactly do you have on that camera?"
I shook my head. "Can't tell you." A pleading face scrunch followed. "Can I use your darkroom?"
"Sure can … if you tell me what's on the film?"
I sighed and tilted my head. "Please, Lyle. I'll tell you eventually, but for now, I need to keep it secret."
Lyle took the earbuds off of his neck. "Fine but I'm not happy about this. And yes, I'm doing fine after my horrid breakup, thank you very much for asking."
I took the camera off my neck but let it dangle from my fingers. I hadn't let it go since I took the picture. That was why I so badly wanted to develop the film. It would be much easier to hide a photo and negative than a camera.
I threw my free arm around his neck and hugged him. "I've been a shit friend. I'm sorry, and I'm glad you're doing fine."
"Yes, you've been a shit friend, but I forgive you. And you can use the darkroom, but I'm going to want to know what the hell is going on—and soon."
"You've got it."
Lyle walked into the kitchen. "I was just heading out on a run," he called as he filled his water bottle. "Everything is all set up down there." He came back out with the bottle and a concerned expression. "Do I have to worry about being chased down and tortured for information?"
"I don't think so."
Lyle blinked his brown eyes a few times. "I don't think so. Has anyone ever said anything more reassuring than I don't think so? I'll take my pepper spray just in case. Lock this behind me. I've got keys."
"Have a good run and thanks again. You're the best."
"Yep, seems like I'm a damn good sport." Lyle walked out.
I bolted the door and headed to the cellar door in the kitchen.
There was a light on the top of the door that signaled whether or not someone was down below developing film.
I flicked it on and headed down the steep, creaky stairs to the bottom.
The faint, earthy smell of developer and the vinegary odor of fixer hit me as I turned toward the work area.
I hadn't learned much in community college but learning how to develop film the old-fashioned way, with time and smelly chemicals, was a skill I'd picked up.
I was pleased to have the skill. Digital photography was top dog now, but those of us who loved the thrill of standing around waiting for a photo to come to life under the watery surface of the developer were keeping the old way alive. I still preferred it to digital.
I'd processed the film and then hurried the drying along a bit with a low temperature hairdryer. Normally, I let my film dry overnight, but I didn't have that luxury this time.
Once the negatives were sufficiently dry, I found the image and made an enlargement.
I always liked the smell of the chemicals, mostly because they told me that my work was about to come to life.
I could see the vague outline of the picture.
Grayish blobs at first, but as I moved through the process, my heart pounded.
I'd caught a human moment between two people that could not be misinterpreted.
I hung the large print up to dry and leaned back against the worktable as it became more vivid.
It was passion, pure and simple. It made me ache knowing I'd never found that kind of connection or passion with anyone.
I'd had my share of boyfriends and lovers, but looking at the way these two men held each other, the way their mouths devoured each other, the expression on Buck's face that was a mix of love and heartbreak, I'd never experienced anything like that, and I doubted I ever would.
I heard Lyle walking around upstairs. He'd returned from his run. Eventually, he knocked on the door but didn't open it. "You all right down there?"
"Yes, almost finished. Uh, do you have an envelope?" I called up from the bottom of the stairs.
"Yes, gee, anything else I can do for this clandestine operation that I know nothing about?" he asked wryly through the door.
"Thanks, Lyle. You're the—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the best. Just not good enough to be part of your secret circle."
He handed me a large envelope through the door.
I hurried back down the steps and slid the photo and the negative inside.
I stuck the rest of the negatives in the trash.
There wasn't anything else worth printing.
There was only one shining star on that film, and it was sitting with its negative in an envelope.
From there, it would be placed inside a safe deposit box where it would sit until I decided the best route to go.
I walked upstairs. Lyle was covered in sweat and sucking down his water bottle.
"Jeez, how far did you run?" I asked.
"I didn't get past the end of the block where I met up with possibly the hottest delivery driver on the planet. His name is Roger and we—"
I held up a hand. "Don't need to know, but I wish you and Roger good luck."
Lyle waved his hand. "Nah, it was just an afternoon quickie. He's hot but not too bright. Dull, in fact, would be a good word. Hot and dull, like a baked potato without any toppings."
I laughed. "Speaking of potatoes, do you have anything to eat?"
"Sure, why not feed you, too, good friend who keeps big secrets.
" He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cheese-flavored crackers from the cupboard.
"I haven't been to the store for a week, so I'm afraid I don't have much.
" He pulled some cheese out of the fridge to go with the already cheese-flavored crackers.
I looked askance at the suggested combo.
Lyle put his fists on his slim hips. "Seriously?"
"You're right. This is perfect." I grabbed the crackers and the cheese and sat at his table.
"I'm going to go wash all the package lint off my—" He paused and smiled back at me. "Well, you get the point."
"Yes, more than I'd like to, and I will be using latex gloves to open my packages from now on."
I sat with my extra cheesy snack and came to the conclusion that the combo actually worked. I checked my burner phone. It had been silent. No calls, no threatening texts, I considered the possibility that I'd lost my pursuers. I hoped that was the case.
Lyle came out a few minutes later smelling like fresh lavender. "Are you heading home after this, or are there thugs waiting to ransack your place and take you hostage?" he asked jokingly. When I didn't answer, his shocked expression turned my way. "No way? Are there really thugs?"
"Well, let's just say my apartment is off my list of safe places to stay, but that's all right, I've got another place."
Lyle wrinkled his nose. "Your parents?" Everyone knew about my crummy parents. I supposed I'd complained about them enough to give them a bit of a reputation. But it was all deserved.
"No, not exactly. I'll be fine. I should be on my way. Make sure to lock up after me."
Lyle sighed loudly. "Now I'll be worried about you."
I turned to him. "I've been in far more dangerous situations. Remember the water buffalo stampede that nearly flattened me? And then there was that anaconda situation in the rainforest."
"Yes, yes, keep reminding me that while you saw the world I was stuck holding up cute stuffies trying to coax crying babies to smile." He hugged me. "Be careful and keep me posted."
"I will."