Truth and Consequences

by V. J. Chambers

  “Go.”

  She went.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Um, how did you find out where I lived?” said Carrie Cruz. She was in the lobby of her dorm building.

  Elke had attempted to go to her door, but she’d been stopped by a student working the front desk in the dorm who said that they didn’t let people go up into the rooms without an escort. It was for security purposes. However, the girl said she’d call up to the room and ask Carrie to come down.

  “You’re listed in the campus directory,” said Elke. “It’s got your number and room. That’s published on the Internet.”

  “No freaking way,” said Carrie. “That should be, like, illegal or something.”

  Elke gestured to one of the couches in the lobby. It was set up like a living room with a big TV mounted in the corner and several couches all surrounding a puffy rug in the college’s colors. “We could sit and talk if you’d like? Or if you want to go somewhere more private, we could go to your room?”

  Carrie ran a hand through her hair. “No, it’s fine to sit here.” She pushed past Elke and plopped down on the couch. “I guess you’re all going to keep coming no matter what I do, right? Like, if I tell you to leave, you won’t, will you?”

  “Are you sure you want to be in public?” said Elke. “You do understand that I want to talk to you about Mr. Joel Sanders?”

  “Yeah, I get that,” said Carrie. “And I don’t want to talk about that.”

  Elke sat down next to her. “Of course. I understand that it must be a horrific subject for you to deal with. I promise not to press for details. Can you confirm that he was, in fact, having an inappropriate relationship with you?”

  “No,” said Carrie.

  “You can be honest with me. If he threatened you, and you’re frightened of him, we can protect you.”

  “I’m not afraid of him.”

  “All right, good. Then what’s stopping you from confirming it, then?”

  “Well, it never happened.”

  Elke raised her eyebrows.

  Carrie dragged her hands over her face. “I don’t know why people ever thought that.”

  “You don’t have to lie for him anymore.”

  “I’m not,” said Carrie. “We never said that. None of us ever said that about him. Sure, we had a little fun at his expense, but we didn’t realize it was going to get so out of hand. When we found out that the school board was involved and that they were investigating him and that he might lose his job, we all felt bad. We didn’t mean to, like, get him in trouble or anything.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not following. You never said that he was molesting you, but you felt bad when he was investigated for that?”

  “Yeah, because we never intended anybody to think that. What we did, it was a practical joke, basically. And it happened to work out for us so that we could slack off and get good grades. That was a definite plus. But we weren’t molested or anything like that. I don’t even know if he likes girls. Some guys who do that do, but some of them totally want surgery or whatever.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mr. Sanders. He’s a cross-dresser.”

  Elke hadn’t expected that. Her lips parted.

  “We found out because we snuck into this drag queen thing at a bar in Gathopolis,” said Carrie. “He was there. At first, we didn’t recognize him because he was dressed as a woman, but then we did. We thought it was the most hilarious thing ever. And we went up to talk to him and tease him, you know?”

  “As you do,” muttered Elke, shaking her head.

  “Well, he freaked out. He was like practically in tears, begging us not to say anything. He said that if people found out about it, he’d probably lose his teaching job. Personally, I don’t know why he didn’t think that he’d better go further away than Gathopolis to get dressed up. It’s only one town over.”

  That was true enough. Elke thought it had been a bit short-sighted on his part as well. She didn’t know if a person could really be fired for dressing like a woman, especially these days. But the world had been a great deal more backward, even five years ago, and perhaps Sanders’s fears were justified. “So, I suppose you decided to blackmail him, then?”

  “It wasn’t like we asked him for money.”

  “No, but you stopped doing homework. You didn’t take tests. He had to give you all good grades. And you weren’t the least bit discreet about that.” That made the reports of the girls behavior make sense, after all.

  “No, we weren’t,” said Carrie, studying her knuckles. “I guess we were kind of bitches. We caused all kinds of trouble for him.”

  Elke had a thought. Maybe there was still a chance to salvage this suspect. “Was he angry about that?”

  “Oh, probably,” she said.

  That could be a motive to kill, thought Elke. “Was Allison part of your group? Was she in on the blackmailing?”

  “What? Who?”

  “Allison Ross,” said Elke. “That’s why I’m talking to you. We’re investigating her murder.”

  “Curtis Fisher killed her.”

  “We aren’t sure about that anymore.”

  “Oh, God, you don’t think Mr. Sanders did it?” Carrie shook her head. “No way. It wasn’t him.”

  “Was Allison part of your blackmailing group?”

  “Listen, it wasn’t blackmailing.”

  “Oh, whatever. Was she or wasn’t she?”

  “No, okay? I barely knew that girl. It’s sad that she died and all, but it didn’t have anything to do with me.”

  * * *

  Amos looked up from his desk to see the door open. He was surprised to see that Carlos was there. Amos stood up, going out from his desk to intercept the other guy. “What are you doing here?”

  Things between Carlos and himself were going pretty well. They’d been spending a lot of time together, basically every night, and the moratorium on discussing either of their jobs had held up.

  “Hey,” said Carlos. He lifted a hand to wave hesitantly.

  Amos closed the distance between them. “Are you here to see me? Because it’s a little early for lunch.”

  “Actually, it’s, um, my editor?”

  Amos crossed his arms over his chest. “What? I thought I could trust you, and your job wasn’t going to come between us.”

  “I don’t want it to,” Carlos protested. “Look, I got an assignment. My editor wants a follow-up on the last piece I wrote on the CRU. I decided maybe it would be more fair if I came by to get your office’s reaction before going to print. You know, to make it all more fair and balanced.”

  “No,” said Amos.

  “No?” Carlos peered around him. “You haven’t even asked anyone if they’d like to go on the record.”

  “Because I know how badly things went the last time you wrote an article. It was devastating. Everyone was in a mopey mood for days. And, to be honest, these people are not sunshine and rainbows naturally, so it’s a lot of work for me to keep them even a little bit cheerful—”

  “You try to keep people at your job cheerful?”

  “I try to keep everyone cheerful,” said Amos. “It’s like, my reason for living or whatever. I spread happiness.”

  Carlos cocked his head to one side. “Hey, wow. That’s, um, it’s really nice. I mean, it’s weird because it should sound cheesy and hokey or something, but I know you, and you really are good at that. You’re kind of great at that. Every time I see you, it brightens my day. Even right now, when you’re yelling at me.”

  Amos put his hands on his hips. “I am not yelling at you.”

  “Um?”

  “Okay, maybe a little. But you deserve it for coming back here and stirring things up again.”

  “Can’t you call back to your boss or something, see if she wants to talk to me?”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “You don’t know that. You haven’t even asked her.”

  “Trust me, I know that she doesn�
�t want to talk to you.”

  Carlos sighed. “So, that’s it?”

  “Yeah, I think you should leave.”

  Carlos winced. “Okay.” His shoulders sagged and he turned to the door. Then he stopped and looked at Amos. “Hey, are you pissed at me?”

  “A little bit.”

  “So pissed that you don’t want to talk to me?”

  “I just told you to leave, didn’t I?”

  “I mean later. Can we talk later? Can I come over after work? Or you come to my place or something?”

  Amos considered. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good.” He pointed at Carlos. “But no more mixing of work and us, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay,” said Carlos. He opened the door and walked out.

  Amos sighed and sat back down at his desk. Man, he wished that wasn’t so confusing. He was really, really starting to like Carlos, and he did think that—given a second chance—Carlos would write a more balanced article. He felt a tug of loyalty toward Carlos. But he had to stay strong in his loyalty toward his co-workers. He couldn’t let them down.

  “Who was that?”

  Amos jumped.

  It was Elke, standing over his desk.

  “What?” he said.

  “Was there someone here?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry about that.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Uh, a, um, a guy is all.”

  Elke raised her eyebrows.

  “Some guy that I’m kind of, um— damn it.”

  Elke looked very perplexed.

  “I can’t lie to you, Elke,” said Amos. “I’m so sorry. When I met him in the bar, I didn’t know who he was, and I had no idea he was going to write that awful article in the paper. But after I knew, I swore that I wouldn’t get involved with him, but he can cook and he’s gorgeous, and I’m weak.”

  “Amos, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Amos clutched the top of his head. “I’m having an illicit affair with the guy who wrote that article about the CRU.”

  “And that’s who was here?”

  Amos nodded. “He feels bad, and he wants to get your side of the story to make a fair and balanced article. But I told him to get lost. I said we weren’t interested in anything like that.”

  “Get him back,” said Elke. “Can you do that? You have a number for him?”

  Amos was speechless.

  “Amos?”

  “You want to talk to him?”

  “It occurs to me that the press can cut both ways. Maybe if I tell our side, the public will see things in a different light.”

  * * *

  Elke thought Carlos Reyes looked like a nice, clean-cut sort of person.

  He gave her a firm handshake. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Lawrence.”

  She smiled politely. “Would you like to sit?” She gestured to a chair in her office across from her desk.

  Carlos sat. “I need to apologize, first of all, for not coming to you right away for comment on the story. I did try to call the office here, but I wasn’t very persistent. I left a message and that was it. I should have tried harder.”

  “We do get a lot of calls from the press,” said Elke. “We can’t answer every single one.”

  “Absolutely. I understand that,” said Carlos. “That’s why I’m very honored that you’ve chosen to speak to me, especially after what I wrote about you last time.”

  “Well, Amos said you felt guilty about that article and wanted to be more fair and balanced,” said Elke. “I could stand to have the scales balanced a bit.”

  “Good,” said Carlos. “Let’s do that.”

  “All right,” she said. “I suppose you want to hear about my husband?”

  “That’s a fine place to start.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Iain was having a hard time concentrating at work that day. He couldn’t help but think about Harley. He hadn’t expected to take it hard, but he was pretty devastated. Lots of times, he had wished that Harley would leave him alone, and now it seemed like she actually would. He should be relieved, but instead he felt rejected and depressed.

  He tried to think about it objectively. He looked back on the time that he and Harley had spent together officially in a relationship, and most of it was riddled with arguments and conflict. Over and over, he kept disappointing Harley. And, to be fair, she disappointed him too. The night she’d gotten herself stuck at that party, drunk and confused, that hadn’t been particularly pleasant for him. They hadn’t been happy together.

  But for some reason, losing her like this, it was incredibly painful, and he had trouble thinking of anything else except how much he missed her.

  He kept thinking about calling her.

  Then he would remember how she had essentially said that he was too deficient to have a relationship with, and he would decide it was better not to hear anything else hurtful from her, after all.

  After a while, he concluded that it wasn’t the loss of Harley that was the worst of it. It was sort of the loss of any romantic relationship from now on. None of his attempts to have one had ever worked. Harley was the closest he’d come to having something like that. If he couldn’t make it work with her, he wouldn’t be able to make it work with anyone.

  And he realized that he wanted that in his life.

  His job was important, and he enjoyed it a great deal. But having Harley in his life had provided another dimension of happiness that was hard to quantify. It was something that he didn’t like losing, and he now knew he’d never get it back.

  That made him more sad that anything.

  And the worst of it was that he didn’t have anything to investigate now. After the Sanders business had been taken away from him, he’d busied himself with various sundries, but he’d run out of anything to distract himself with now.

  He stalked into Elke’s office sometime in the afternoon and demanded she give him back the Sanders investigation.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “Sanders? Oh, crap, I guess I forgot to tell you guys. We should have a meeting. Go to the conference room. I’ll get Hart.”

  * * *

  “Wait, that’s what he’s been hiding?” said Iain. “And you’re just taking her word for it?”

  “Well, I did call to talk to Sanders and he confirmed it,” said Elke. “I don’t think he had anything to do with Allison’s death.”

  “No, I guess not.” Iain sighed. “It was always a long shot. There was nothing connecting him to the murder. Still, I thought there was going to be something more to uncover there.”

  “Maybe Sanders should just come out,” said Frankie. “A lot of trans people are finding that the community is very supportive now.”

  “I don’t think he is,” said Elke. “I mean, I think he identifies as male but enjoys dressing up as a woman. I don’t think he identifies as female.”

  “Ah,” said Frankie. “Still, you’d think that would be less threatening to the people who care about those kinds of things.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Iain. “It’s not important to the case.”

  “True,” said Elke. She sighed. “There aren’t any donuts today. Amos didn’t bring any.”

  “You know, we should be reimbursing him for bringing in those donuts every day,” said Frankie.

  “Oh, there’s a form for that,” said Elke. “You think Amos knows about that?”

  Iain got up from the conference room table. “Are we really talking about that right now?”

  The women both looked at him.

  “Are you okay, Hudson?” said Elke. “You seem a little on edge.”

  “I’m fine,” said Iain. “I just want something to investigate. Our suspects? Who’s left?”

  “Oh, geez,” said Elke, squinting at the board. “Well, we’ve basically eliminated Sanders, and we’ve also eliminated Mark Thomas Bennett. We’re at a bit of a standstill with Noel Hughes or Vincent Richardson.”

  “I don’t think it was either of them,” said F
rankie.

  “That’s you,” said Elke. “I say they can’t be eliminated. They’re each other’s alibi, and, besides, they’re the only people we’ve got left. We need to find something on them.”

  “Like what?” said Frankie. “There’s no DNA, and there’s no obvious motive.”

  “Well, it’s possible that—”

  “There’s no motive,” said Frankie.

  “But he was sleeping with a teenager,” said Elke. “That’s suspicious.”

  “But it doesn’t make him a murderer,” muttered Iain. He started to pace.

  Elke looked at the ceiling. “Go on, Hudson, just let me have it. Tell me how you think that Fisher is guilty and I’ve been wasting everyone’s time.”

  “I didn’t say that,” said Iain, who was still pacing.

  “He’s innocent,” said Frankie. “We’ve dismantled half of the case against him. We know there was no call for a shovel, and that Allison never said that he was guilty. What else did they even have on him?”

  “DNA,” muttered Iain.

  “And the sister’s testimony,” said Elke. “She claimed he was forcing her to have disturbing sexual encounters with him.”

  “But Curtis said that she made that up,” said Frankie. “And that does make sense, right, with what we found out about her family? They lost a baby to crib death and then they lost Allison? And you remember how the sister expressed concern about the news of us investigating the case hurting her parents?”

  “Yes,” said Elke. “So?”

  “Well, it’s probably like Curtis said. She wanted him to go to jail, and she wanted the nightmare to be over for her parents. And for herself too, undoubtedly. She probably thought she was lying for a good reason.”

  “Or she’s telling the truth,” Elke muttered. “He did draw those pictures, after all.”

  “The pictures mean nothing,” said Iain, who had stopped pacing.

  “They could be predictive of his behavior,” said Elke.

  “If he had drawn pictures of girls with their faces cut up, maybe,” said Iain. “But they were just dead and naked. Allison wasn’t even naked when they found her. She was clothed. Are we forgetting that?”