Page 7 of Tripp

I’d never imagined myself in this kind of situation.

The cases I’ve had before have been much more laid out, calm. I won’t say easy because sitting in your car for hours on end, hungry, fighting the urge to bounce your legs cause ya gotta pee… Yeah, none of that is easy.

When I left the house the day before last, it was to follow this guy and document his day-to-day activities, in either video or picture form. Getting the proof that he wasn’t as injured as he claimed to be was my one and only job.

The insurance company I was working for had given me everything they had. It had seemed simple enough at the start. A few hours of my time for a few days, making sure I got what was needed and then I’d be done.

I’d be able to go home, get my daughter ready for daycare, and relax before I moved on to the next case.

It should have been straight to the point. I’d started the morning off with pictures of him climbing down from his truck and going inside the hardware store sans the neck brace and leg braces. There was no wheelchair in sight, nor was there a second person to help him in and out of his vehicle.

I’d reviewed the files again while he’d been inside. They stated that he had severe leg damage which had landed him in a wheelchair. He may never gain the use of his legs again. This. This right here was why I did what I did. People cheated the system to get money. To get out of having to work. You name it, and I’d seen it. Fraud was fraud.

And this one here… He was suing people for their life savings because he was ‘so hurt’ in the accident. The seventeen-year-old driver had been on her way home from work and missed a stop sign. She had hit him, sure, but he was obviously lying. I hated people sometimes.

This was only one of the shining examples of why the aliens wanted nothing to do with us.

Now don’t get me wrong, if you’re legit hurt, suffering—yeah, you should be able to get compensation and help. I’d be right there in your corner, doing what I could to get the record straight.

But this joker—oh, how I wanted to walk up and clobber him with a piece of iron.

That plan had gone sideways, off a cliff, and up in smoke a few hours later. The man pulled his truck into a walled-off junkyard. No trespassing signs were all around, and the gate had closed behind him. I had no choice but to find a safe place out of the way to park and wait.

There was land all around, so I got out, looking for more signs. If there were no trespassing signs, I would be stuck. I had to obey the law. My PI license didn’t give me carte blanche to go and do whatever I wanted. I wasn’t law enforcement in any way. Even if I’d gone to the Academy.

It was after graduation that I’d found out I was pregnant. My dreams of being a law enforcement officer couldn’t come before the life growing inside of me. So, I’d made the change needed. With my BS in Criminal Justice, it was easy enough to take a few more classes.

It wasn’t the career path I’d been going for, but much like anything else in life, you pivot, adjust course, and do what you gotta do the best way you can.

I’d made sure to survey the area all around me. There had been no more signs, so I’d walked through the tall grass, praying I didn’t run across a rattler. I’d noticed a guard inside the wrought iron fencing where the gate was, but the solid brick wall hid what else was inside.

And of course, as I’d figured, there were security cameras. Whether they were real or decoys, I had no way of telling.

With my small pack on my back, phone in one pocket, and my camera around my neck, I hurried to climb one of the big trees along the edge of a field. If I was lucky, it would be high enough and at a good angle to see over that wall. I was losing daylight as it was. I was beyond ready to get home, eat dinner, and see my daughter.

It was a junkyard, so I wasn’t expecting there to be a clear vantage point, but maybe I’d get lucky enough to see something.

A few hours later, my legs were numb, my butt hurt, and my head was swimming. I’d gotten in the tree and climbed my butt all the way up.

I could see over the wall.

I got a few snaps of movement around one of the out-buildings. The people were so small, and I wasn’t even sure if it would be visible what I thought I was seeing.

I made a mental note to get a long-range lens. I needed to be able to know what I was capturing. I wasn’t going to be any good to any investigation unless I truly knew what evidence I had or could gather.

I’d seen cargo being moved, a few large wooden boxes and what I was sure was a freaking body bag. But I couldn’t sit in a court of law and swear that’s what that particular long black bag was. Nor did I want to. If this man was part of something this crazy—well, I wanted no part of it.

I had a job to do, yes. I also had the responsibility to report what I’d seen. I was just not sure exactly what it was I’d seen. I needed to get back to my car

My problem was…every time I looked down, the world spun. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but this, I was fucked and not in a good way.

Shouting drew my attention. It was very faint, only carrying past me in the wind. I used the camera to focus on the junkyard. Men were crowded around each other, ringing a pair of men who looked to be fighting.

I watched, wincing when the larger man hit the other so hard he spun around and crashed to the ground. The others didn’t seem to worry. Another stepped in close, pulled up his arm, and put a bullet between the larger man’s eyes.

Gasping, I sat there, stunned. He’d shot the man. Point blank. The larger man was now sprawled out on the ground.

I’d tried calling for help a few times, but believe it or not, where I was, there was only a half a bar of signal. Being up a tree, literally, was keeping me from a full signal.

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