Outside the Adama Bar.
In a black Honda, Pari Jones reclined in the passenger seat.
Her eyes were fixed on the window. With no lights on inside the car, it was very difficult to see inside from the outside.
Two people came out of the bar, and Pari Jones lay down even lower, seemingly worried about being seen by them.
Fortunately, the two did not notice and left in a black SUV. Pari Jones also let out a sigh of relief.
A white man then came out of the bar and walked over to the driver's side of the car. He opened the door and said, "Pari, promise me, no next time."
"Did they spot you?"
"No, I was far away; they couldn't have noticed me. But it was really nerve-wracking. I'm just a photographer and I don't want to follow cops again."
Pari patted his arm, "George, you did great. Take a deep breath. You just went for a spin in the bar and didn't follow anyone. Los Angeles is a free city, don't put too much pressure on yourself."
