Page 27 of Pied Sniper

Solomon sighed as he shook his head.

“This feels like a no-brainer,” said Lily. “The dog has been traumatized enough.”

“Thank you,” said Solomon.

“Thank you for caring what I think, at last,” Lily shot back.

Solomon held his arms up and I collapsed into them before he gently deposited me on the floor. He leaned in and kissed me. “Plus, there’s the small matter of that other thing,” he whispered, his breath soft against my ear as his hand brushed my stomach. He was careful to use his body to block Lily’s view. “Is there a reason you haven’t stopped snacking that you’d like to share?”

Ahh… The baby thing. I was too tired for practice last night and it didn’t cross my mind. I shrugged. “I’m hungry,” I said.

“What other thing?” asked Lily while she delved into the depths of her purse.

Solomon’s shoulders dropped. “She has the hearing of a bat,” he said. “I’m going to the agency to brief the others. I’ll call and check in with you soon.”

Chapter Six

One of the few things I never had to deal with in my career as a private investigator was too much information. Several times, my targets had no presence online, leaving me the hard task of piecing together both their lives and current movements. Tiffany Rose wasn’t justtoo much,she waseverywhere. It seemed to me she lived her entire adult life online, documenting every single, tiny event in her life to an audience of hundreds of thousands, and that was just the people who clicked “like” or subscribed to her content! I assumed there were many more viewers beyond that public acknowledgment who followed her stealthily. I felt very sure about that because I was one of them. I wondered why none of the lurkers added to the kudos Tiffany clearly craved and for that answer, I had to perform some light mental self-examination. After a few minutes, I decided it was mildly embarrassing to have a fly-on-the-wall interest in someone who really wasn’t doing anything life-changing. Tiffany’s life was fairly vacuous but there was something compelling about being invited to view a stranger’s life, however curated her online persona and content were.

Tiffany would never be a woman that changed the world, but she was certainly competent in telling everyone how she lived in it. I could probably catalog every meal she ate, brunch she attended, PR party, and clothes she received in return for telling her masses of followers all about them. Not only that, but I also knew far too much information about her relationship with Jonathan Brett, who was handsome and chiseled enough to be a male runway model. I also knew exactly how often her PA, Grace was with her, where they usually could be seen and what they did. Like the rest of her apostles, I was even well-versed in the small matter of her “frenemy” status with a rival vlogger who went by the moniker, “Pop Princess,” but was actually Flavia. At least, I assumed that was her real name.

“Why don’t we have picnics like that?” asked Lily, turning her phone screen towards me so I could see the Instagram snap that featured a pink and white gingham blanket edged in pompoms spread beneath a broad oak tree. On top of the blanket was a wicker basket stuffed with plates and flatware, while platters heaped with cold cuts, raw vegetables, and more fruit than a small family could eat in a week were strewn all over it. Tiffany held a champagne flute aloft in one hand, her smile broad and infectious. In her other hand was a tiny plate of delicious-looking truffle chocolates. The caption read, “Impromptu light lunches for two are the best!” followed by a red heart emoji. The post was marked “sponsored.” I turned to the paperwork Abigail Swanson supplied for me, running my finger down a column and gasping when I found out how much Tiffany was paid to advertise the blanket and picnicware.

“Because it would take us a week of planning,” I replied. “Also, we like pizza, chips, and donuts. Plus, no one is willing to pay us a bucket-load of cash to photograph this stuff.”

“True. I like this stuff a lot though. The blanket is cute. I might buy one. Oh! The shop where it came from is tagged! That’s handy.” Lily tapped the screen.

“Tiffany’s work is done. She made a sale,” I said dryly.

“So cynical!”

“That’s what the picture was for! Can you imagine lugging a huge basket like that around on a whim? With all the plates and stuff, it must be super heavy and the food would need its own basket. Plus, no one eats that much fruit.”

“That’s why she has a boyfriend. He’s clearly behind the camera. There’s a little camera emoji with his handle attached in the description.”

“Of course,” I said, noting how many hashtags Tiffany included on her posts. “There absolutely must be fifty hashtags. This is advertising, not real life.”

“You know I don’t recall seeing Jonathan in many of Tiffany’s more recent photos or posts.” Lily thought for a moment before adding, “Or her videos.”

“Isn’t he usually a behind-the-scenes man? But you’re right, I haven’t seen too many photos of him lately either. He’s good-looking, right?”

“This kind of good-looking,” said Lily, holding her phone up again. I looked at a dark-haired man, his hair cut fashionably short at the sides and thick and floppy in the middle. His face bore days-old stubble, neatly shaped on his cheeks and neck, and he wore a fleece-lined denim jacket, a plain blue t-shirt, and tan jeans. He carried an expensive looking camera with a big lens. Behind him was a beautiful sunset in inky blues and pinks. The caption read “Another day.”

“What does ‘another day’ mean?” I wondered aloud.

“Men are very basic creatures. It’s probably literally ‘another day’ in between the one before and the one to come.”

“He might as well have said it was a Thursday.”

“That’s too basic.”

“When was that picture posted?”

“Two days ago.”

I leaned in. “It doesn’t say where. Could it possibly be local? No, there’re mountains in the distance. Did Tiffany mention their relationship was long distance?”

“I don’t know. He must be going nuts. Can you imagine how he must feel knowing his girlfriend was kidnapped while livestreaming on her channel?” said Lily, pulling a face.

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