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Chapter Six
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The darkness ensured no one noticed him outside Payton’s window, watching and enjoying the sex escapade. Getting quality photos with this much darkness, however, was tricky. It was nights like this he enjoyed his job. He considered upping his payment price, as the type of photos were too good not to do so. As quietly as he came, he left with no one but him in the know.
Logan Fischer was many things—an alcoholic, womanizer and ex-football player who ruined his chances for making it into the show due to a freshman hazing incident gone wrong. He had gotten carried away being the senior—the tough, cool guy—and the kid was rushed to the hospital. He kissed his free ride goodbye.
He once had it all—girls, good looks, popularity and a future career. Now he had a dead-end job he hated. He used to be an investigator for the New York Police, and up until he was caught drinking on the job he was always the guy everyone went to for results. Now he was a private investigator; his jobs mainly revolved around checking up on cheating husbands and wives.
It was after being fired, the bitter divorce and countless lawyers going after him for both alimony and child support for his two bastard children from different mothers, that he seemed to stop caring. By age thirty he seemed to have everyone on the payroll—the ex-wife and two random women who tricked him and used him. The way he looked at it, if he were to get his life back together again this was his chance—to solve the Bernard Castle case before anyone else. This would be his ticket out of the rat hole he seemed to be living in.
There once was a time when he would only begin drinking when he arrived home, to relax from a hard day of work. Now look at him—camera in one hand and a water bottle filled with half vodka, half water in the other. He excused his behavior, blaming it on his many failures in life. Tonight he decided the excuse was that it was after five o’clock.
He liked the way this girl looked—hot. She used to be the type of girl he banged on a daily basis. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he got laid. He would enjoy watching and stalking her for the next couple of weeks. He liked to think of it as stalking; it gave him a feeling of an adventure, instead of thinking of it as a paid, legit job.
He enjoyed taking pictures of the couple having sex on the couch, putting his images into his spank bank for later that night. Yeah, this girl would be in his imaginary starting lineup, he thought to himself.
