Tracking Shot by Colin Campbell (best book reader .TXT) 📕

Hall after tossing his shield to the ground. Another rip-off from a different detective movie, but hastily rewritten to include the Fourth of July Parade in the background to match footage of the real parade. About as real as Larry Unger was ever going to get.

It was another sunny day in Massachusetts and Waltham was recovering from the traumatic events that had disrupted the parade and the news that their greatest benefactor wasn’t so great after all. The town had been inundated with news crews covering the story. McNulty kept a low profile but the publicity boosted Titanic Productions’s standing while ignoring Larry Unger’s connection to the court case that would reconvene next week. Larry managed to steer questions toward the movie company’s help in exposing a child sex ring and the rescue of seven young girls. There were several questions that went unanswered. Lots of pieces that didn’t seem to fit.

Larry watched Amy touch up Alfonse’s makeup then turned to McNulty. “They ever say how they took the Arriflex?”

McNulty looked at Larry. “You mean are we going to get it back?”

“That as well. The footage would be interesting.”

“You got the stuff from Randy’s phone.”

Larry waved the thought aside. “But they came back on set and stole the camera.”

McNulty watched Amy finish with Alfonse. “Misdirection. To get everyone looking somewhere else.”

“Yeah, but how’d they do it?”

“How do they make sure nobody dies in superhero movies?”

“They cheat.”

McNulty looked at the head of Titanic Productions. “Well, these guys cheated. If you want to know more ask the police. At the moment, nobody’s talking.”

Amy finished with Alfonse and glanced across at McNulty. McNulty jerked his chin to one side and she nodded back. Lights, camera, action. Larry walked over to watch the final tracking shot and Alfonse Bayard became a true detective for the camera. He was getting pretty good at it. He didn’t walk like a duck anymore. At least McNulty had got one thing right. He looked around the park but there was still no sign of the person he wanted to see. He sighed and crossed to the location caterer for a milky coffee.

“I can do something about that, you know.”

Amy sat next to McNulty in the catering tent. “About what?”

Amy stirred sugar into her Styrofoam cup and looked at McNulty’s battered face. The cuts and scratches had scabbed over and the nose brace had been removed but his face was still a map of different colored bruises and black eyes. “The Kung Fu Panda look.”

McNulty smiled, and it didn’t even hurt anymore. “Maybe I like the Kung Fu Panda look.”

Amy frowned. “Nobody likes the Kung Fu Panda look.” She tilted her head as she examined his face. “A bit of makeup here and there. Some eyeliner.”

McNulty took the hand that was exploring his injuries and stroked her fingers. “Yorkshiremen don’t wear makeup.”

Amy smiled. “I think we’ve had this conversation before.”

McNulty leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss. “That was a different conversation.”

Amy noticed his distracted look. He kept glancing through the tent flap. “I can help you with that, as well.”

McNulty let out a sigh and looked at Amy. His eyes explored her face and knew what she was offering. Susan hadn’t visited the set or contacted her brother since he’d returned Tilly to the house on Kirkstall Road. Not the one near Crag View Children’s Home, but not far from it, either. Not in real terms. Not in life measures. He kissed Amy again then sat back. “No. This is something I’ve got to do myself.” He pushed his cup away and held out a hand. “Can I borrow your car?”

The curtains were closed, despite the late afternoon sun. McNulty parked in the driveway under the basketball hoop and looked up at the house. Nobody came rushing out to greet him. No curtains twitched in curiosity. The house was still and silent and empty. The FOR SALE sign hammered into the lawn explained some of that, but as far as he knew his sister hadn’t moved out yet.

He got out of the car and rested a hand on the trunk while he scanned the windows. The path along the side of the house was clear of children’s toys. The picnic table, just visible around the back, was clean and tidy. It didn’t look like he was going to be offered lemonade today. He didn’t think Tilly was going to run down the path to her favorite uncle, either. He doubted he was anyone’s favorite uncle right now. That hurt almost more than his sister’s avoiding him.

Pain, guilt and anger. They were emotions he’d have to learn to live with because he couldn’t see himself changing anytime soon. Anytime at all. Forget about, Out of strength came forth sweetness. He reckoned sweetness was something he had forsaken in his journey from boyhood to being a man. Susan was right, there was no getting rid of the angry-man survivor guilt, and now he had more reason than ever to embrace it. After putting his niece in harm’s way and his sister through the wringer.

Birds sang in the trees. A distant jet took off from Logan International. A dog barked farther along Kirkstall Road. He half expected to hear the sounds of children playing but laughter was in short supply these days. A harsh electric hum invaded the tranquil setting and one of the garage doors began to open. A pair of legs slowly became visible. Ankles. Knees. Thighs. Then Susan stood in the opening but didn’t come out. She was alone. Understandable, considering the last time McNulty had seen Tilly.

Susan hugged herself and stood in silence. McNulty pushed off from the back of the car. They looked at each other for a long time but neither of them wanted to be the first to speak. McNulty didn’t want this to end as an awkward moment so he stepped forward and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.” He waved a hand to include the house and the girl