CHAPTER 9
As Kitally sat in the car, slumped down low, her eye on the house across the street, she couldn’t help but think that all three of them—Lizzy, Hayley, and herself—were in way over their heads.
They had never been busier.
They had so many workers’ compensation cases that Kitally and Hayley were forced to divide up the cases and go out on their own. There was no reason to have two people during long days of surveillance sitting in the car, but that did make for a tedious day.
Right now, Kitally was working on three different cases.
Howard Chalkor was one of them.
According to his claim, he couldn’t lift his right arm due to an on-the-job injury. The worst part of this particular case was that Kitally had thought she was done with Mr. Chalkor after she’d gotten some great shots of him and his son loading a truck with furniture. But the insurance company, picky sons of bitches, said the photos were blurry and unacceptable, which was ridiculous. She had a top-of-the-line camera and her photos were on par with Hayley’s and Lizzy’s.
At last, Mr. Chalkor came through the front door, looked over his shoulder, and shouted to someone inside the house. He then slammed the door shut and lit a cigarette as he made his way down the path leading to the sidewalk.
He didn’t get far before a woman came running after him. Towing a dog, a Samoyed, she handed him the leash. They exchanged heated words before she turned and marched back to the house.
Mr. Chalkor did not look happy. The frown lines in his face were deep, making him look much older than forty-two. With the smoke in his left hand and the leash in his right, he stalked off, heading away from where Kitally was parked.
Every time Chalkor yanked on the leash, Kitally gritted her teeth. Not only was he using the arm that was supposedly injured; he was hurting the dog. More than anything, she wanted to take that leash and wrap it around the man’s neck—show him what it felt like to be yanked and pulled.
As he rounded the bend, she thought about pursuing him by car but opted to shadow him on foot. She grabbed her camera, locked her car, and followed his trail.
Once Mr. Chalkor and his dog were back in view, she took a picture every time he yanked on the leash, which happened a lot, since he wouldn’t allow the poor dog to even smell a bush, much less take a pee.
She watched Chalkor join a group of people and their dogs in the dog park. It wasn’t long before he’d singled out the prettiest woman and struck up a conversation with her, forgetting all about the dog at his side. No wonder the woman back at the house wasn’t happy with him.
Figuring now was a good time to check the pictures she’d already taken, she found a bench and took a seat. The pictures were good, but yanking on a dog’s leash wasn’t exactly the same as lifting heavy furniture. She would have to call the insurance company and see what they thought. Maybe if she got video of Chalkor yanking on the leash instead of still pictures. She sighed. More than likely, she would have to come back again.
“Hey you.”
Kitally looked up, surprised to see Mr. Chalkor standing right in front of her. He was a stocky man—five-ten and well over 250 pounds.
“Yeah you,” he said.
“Can I help you?”
He lifted a stubby finger. “I’m going to give you a warning, but only one. Stay away from me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Next time I see you sitting in your car taking pictures of me and my family, I’m going to make you wish you had minded your own business.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Damn right I am.”