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Ryan looked at Faith, then smiled. “She was—”
“I don’t think—”
“—sitting down by the bank, and I was kayaking by. I heard someone singing one of my songs, and it was Faith.”
“You’ll get yours,” she mouthed to him.
Ryan kept his smile in place. He looked forward to that retribution in whatever form it came. Noting the press approaching, he hid behind Noah. Brad stepped in with Christie in his arms. The little girl then went on to tell the paparazzi all about her Barbie collection.
“Tonight, we have a treat,” Mr. Hope said from the temporary stage that had been set up. “Huge treat. The school band is getting back together, with two extras!”
Faith moaned softly. Beside her, Ryan made clucking noises, so she elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ryan, smile this way!”
“Shit.” He’d not been watching, and the two paparazzi had escaped Christie and snuck up on him.
He knew the guy who was speaking; he’d been following Talon closely for the last few years. He was often outside wherever they were.
“Look, I don’t want to do this here, guys. I’ll—”
“We saw you with Shelly Munro, Ryan. Are you guys getting back together?”
“I will talk with you after,” Ryan said again.
“How about you others? Any of you want to be interviewed? We’d like some information on what Ryan was like as a teenager,” one of the paparazzi said.
“You got hearing problems?” Noah stepped forward, and Buster joined him.
“He’s famous, we want photos, and we’re not going anywhere,” the guy said. “Plus we’ll pay for information.”
He wasn’t surprised and knew what these guys were capable of. They had their job to do like he did, but Ryan didn’t have to like it.
“It’s all good,” Ryan said, realizing that they weren’t leaving and his time here was coming to an end. “We’ll go, and you can get your photos and an interview.”
“Did I just hear someone bribing the townsfolk to give out information about one of its citizens?” Cubby appeared in uniform. “The same someone who tried to get Mrs. Huxley to give them Ryan’s school files.”
“Just joking, Sheriff,” one of the photographers said. “And that wasn’t us trying to access school files.”
“You got a permit to be here in that capacity?”
“I don’t need a permit to take photos and ask questions.”
“In this town you do. Ordinance 751 was brought into place about five years ago when we had famous people move into our town. No press, paparazzi, or stalkers allowed in town without consent,” Cubby said with a straight face.
Ryan looked at Faith, who shrugged.
“I call bullshit,” one of the men said, holding up his camera and pointing it at Ryan. He snapped a few shots. Probably about twenty; those things could reel off a huge number in a short time.
The Sheriff of Lake Howling lowered the camera lens gently with a large hand. “You just broke ordinance 492. Cussing in a public place. Leave, or you’ll be spending the night in the cells.”
“You’re not serious?” one of the paparazzi said.
“Deadly. You need to leave now. Or my deputies and I will help you.”
“You can’t do this! These rules are trumped-up. I’m not taking any notice of this shit!”
Ryan really shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. The press was a necessary evil, he and his band members knew that, but he hated the more invasive ones. Those that shoved cameras in your face or yelled questions at you.
