James and the PI

     To say he wasn't happy about the news would be an understatement. James was beyond angry. Beyond upset. Beyond anything even remotely reasonable.
    The first few pictures could probably have  been justified or even explained away. But the second set were not so easily dismissed. This was not the news that he had wanted. He'd been glad that Mr Aron had found her; he had, after all, paid enough for the man's services.
    The first set were of a vaguely familiar blonde man and Alice, walking around San Francisco. They were behaving decidedly touristy, so he chalked it up to her showing him around town. In one of the pictures, however, he had a decidedly wicked look on his face and in the next picture she was ruffling his hair in a playful manner. Just because Mr Aron hadn't caught them kissing didn't mean they weren't.
   Then there was the matter of the second guy. They had spent a very long time together and there were more than a few scandalous pictures of them... Cavorting. It made his blood boil to think of this man's hands on his angel. His Alice.
   The PI hadn't caught them doing anything less innocent than making out on a blanket. Though they had disappeared for a time in the woods. Mr Aron had assumed they would be on the last boat, so he'd boarded without seeing them. As the ferry pulled away from Angel Island, he caught sight of them walking to another boat docked near the ferry. With his telephoto lense he was able to get a grainy shot of them getting on the boat.
   It was registered to a man named John Higgins, but the man with his hands all over her was named Benedict, Ben to his friends.