Backfire
Page 18“You’re a wuss, Bobby,” Mr. Sproole said. “This little cutie brought you back, all trussed up.” He eyed Eve. “And look at you, Deputy Barbieri. I’ve got to say, you’re prettier than any of my four granddaughters ever were.”
Harry wrote down Mr. Sproole’s number and address, gave him a salute. They walked through the garden gate and back to the sidewalk with Bobby Bacon, his wrists now uncuffed, clutching his camera, minus the memory card, walking between them.
Harry said, “Prettier than any of his four granddaughters? He must like cheerleader types.”
“Shut up,” Eve said.
“All of them?” and Harry laughed.
“Hey, he’s right,” Bobby said. “You are pretty. Your hair is a nice natural blond. So how come you’re such a bitch?”
“That’s Deputy Marshal Bitch to you, Bobby.”
They kept him on the sidewalk until three squad cars, sirens blasting, rolled into the driveway. Six cops jumped out, guns drawn.
“That was fast,” Harry said, his creds raised high over his head.
There was pandemonium before everything got sorted out. They watched two officers drag Bobby Bacon to a squad car, Bobby yelling about police brutality and freedom of the press. He was still yelling as one of the officers shoved his head down to get him into the backseat. “I want my memory card back.”
Eve grinned, tossed it to one of the officers.
When Eve and Harry walked to the Hunt home, Molly was standing in the doorway. Behind her stood Mrs. Hicks, the babysitter. She looked ready to kiss them. They heard Gage and Cal talking up a storm, and Emma’s voice over theirs, telling them to be quiet, but they didn’t.
Eve took Molly’s arms in her hands, steadied her.
“He’s a paparazzo. He didn’t get any photos. The cops have taken Mr. Bacon downtown, where he’ll be booked for trespassing and trying to escape a federal marshal.”
Gage shouted, “Was that bad Bacon man here to shoot us?”
Eve went down on her knees in front of Cal and Gage, gathered them to her. “Listen up. That guy was a rude photographer, nothing more. The policemen hauled him off to jail. He wasn’t here to hurt anyone.”
Cal said, “But why’d he want to take our picture, Aunt Eve? Daddy’s not here, he’s in the hospital.”
They gave her an identical look. Gage said, “We’re not stupid, we have to if we’re talking to you. I think he wanted to see Mama cry, didn’t he, Aunt Eve? He wanted to take a picture of her crying.” Cal shook her sleeve.
“Maybe, but we don’t have to worry about him anymore. Now, this man is Special Agent Harry Christoff. He’s FBI, and he’s going to help me find out who hurt your dad.”
“But he’s a stranger, he could be another Bacon—”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You guys want some ice cream?”
Once Emma herded the twins out of the room, Mrs. Hicks, looking stalwart, following after them, Molly said, “They were terrified the man was here to shoot them.”
“So were we,” Harry said.
Molly blew out a breath. “The jerk. What will happen to him?”
“Probably not much,” Harry said. “A bail hearing. Maybe a plea bargain.”
Harry said, “I think it’d be a good idea for you guys to have some protection right now, not wait until Judge Hunt is home from the hospital. They can keep the Bobby Bacons of the world out of here.”
“The media, too,” Eve said. She’d assumed there’d already be coverage here. She’d been wrong. She pulled out her cell phone.
Sea Cliff
Friday afternoon
It was late afternoon and chilly, with only a few wispy tails of fog coming through the Golden Gate when Savich and Sherlock joined Eve and Harry in the Hunts’ backyard. Sharp gusts of wind blew off the water. It was too cold to think much about the incredible view.
Savich said to Harry, “The SFPD out front aren’t fooling around. They stopped us and looked us over pretty closely since they didn’t know who we were.”