Truth or Lies?

by A. Gomez

  “Uh oh. What did I miss?” I asked pointedly.

  “One of our witnesses didn’t show so we sent an investigator to go fetch her and he found her dead.” Jill’s voice caught in her throat.

  “Dead?” I was stunned.

  “Yes, and we think she was murdered but whoever did it made it look like a drug overdose.” Agent Stevens’ voice was sharp.

  I was afraid to ask who the witness was. I was afraid to hear it was one of the girls I was helping. I had to know.

  “Who is it?” I asked nervously.

  “It was Tori.” Jill’s face puckered for a brief moment. “Your victim’s friend.”

  Oh no! Not Tori! She was going to school now. I helped her get her GED. She was doing so well and wanted to help herself and other girls who were sexually assaulted like her. I was never her therapist but I knew her and cared about her. The room started swirling and I staggered, gripping the wall. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on one of the benches outside the witness room with Agent Rockwall’s arms around me, my head on his perfectly hard chest and pounding. I could hear him smelling my hair. For cryin’ out loud, we just got the worst news ever and he wanted to sniff my hair? I looked up to see Jill and Agent Stevens fanning me. “I’m okay, please stop. You don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s probably better if you just sit for a minute.” Rockwall’s voice was deep and sultry, his hot breath hitting my ear, giving me shivers down my spine. OMG! Enough with your nerves and this dude! Get it together, Isabel, before you look like a complete idiot! I stood up, too hastily, only to be caught by Rockwall’s giant arms again. AAAHHH! I was screaming in my head. This room just needed to stop spinning. I inhaled sharply, grabbed on tight to him and just gave up. I thought I noticed him grin.

  “What does this mean then? As far as the trial going forward today?” I asked.

  “Jill asked for a motion to re-set the trial date so we could regroup and get a handle on what’s going on. The judge granted it, but only gave us a week,” Agent Stevens said, sounding irritated.

  “Jill, I need to speak with my victim and her mother. We can’t let them know what happened, at least not yet! I’m afraid the mother might disappear again. She’s afraid of this perp and what he may do to her and her daughter. Whether she’s lying or not, let’s not take any chances,” I said in a hushed tone.

  Agent Stevens’ voice turned sharp. “Yeah, I agree. However, we also believe Jill and you may be in danger as well.”

  “Me?” I was surprised. “Why me? I mean, I can understand Jill because the perpetrator has seen her and she’s the prosecutor and she wants to put him away but why me? I’m just the psychologist and no one knows about me.”

  “Your name and picture were found at the murder victim’s apartment when the investigator went to fetch her,” he added.

  “So what?” I said. “I knew Tori and she knew me. My victim talked about her in our sessions and Tori was starting group therapy with my victim. So that doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

  “Nevertheless, we want to take every precaution and have someone assigned to you and Jill, twenty-four, seven,” he said.

  “A sitter?” I scowled. “You want me to have a sitter like a five-year-old?” The thought of a strange man or woman following me around, watching me like I was some sort of infant made me uncomfortable. “All you have is a picture of me with my name on it; she could’ve googled me. You have no evidence indicating that someone, anyone, wants to come after me.” I paused. “I’m sorry but I don’t do well with taking orders or being watched by some stranger. I’d rather take my chances alone,” I declared.

  Stevens and I scowled at each other.

  “I’m done here.” I stalked back toward the witness room.

  Special Agent Rockwall stopped me before I got to the door. “Isabel, please, think about it. You’re right, we have no evidence that would indicate you need watching but at the same time we don’t know that for certain. We’re going on a hunch, so please try and see our side of it. We do this on a daily basis and we’re good at it. Please be reasonable,” he said, with a pleading expression.

  I closed my eyes and sighed, “Okay, but I’m not going to like it and y’all better not hover.” I instantly regretted agreeing.

  I went back inside the witness room, Jill followed. We had to explain why the trial wasn’t going forward today. Jill did most of the talking, telling them everything except about Tori getting murdered. I reminded mom and victim to continue with therapy and not to forget that teen group therapy begins next week on Thursday. Tori was supposed to be starting then too, I told myself, feeling sad and confused. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened.

  This was a long and taxing day to say the least. I wanted to mourn Tori’s death but it seemed like there was no time for that right now.

  3

  My victim and her mother left, leaving me in the witness room answering messages and writing down a few notes. Agent Rockwall walked in with his coat and what looked like his gun, back in its holster. I could tell the way his suit jacket was bulging again like it did earlier this morning. I could also see the handle of the gun peeking out.

  “I’ve been assigned to you,” he said, beaming and smiling a boyish smile.

  “You assigned to me? What a surprise,” lots of acrimony in my voice.

  “Actually, Stevens was supposed to be with you but I told him he should probably go with Jill, especially after the way you practically bit his head off in the hallway earlier,” he mused. “I thought he might fight me on it since he noticed your hypnotic eyes, but thankfully he didn’t. Besides, I think he’s crushing on Jill,” he said, grinning.

  Huh, I wondered if Jill knew this. “Okay, let me just go find her to let her know I’m leaving for the day. I have to get home to my baby anyway.” I started for the door.

  Rockwall grabbed me and spun me around. “Your baby?” He eyed me, confused and angry, “You’re married?” he demanded.

  Wait a minute, this was the FBI and he doesn’t know everything about me? He was my sitter, he carried a gun and had access to every bit of information on me and he didn’t know about Samson? This was fabulous! I was going to roll with it. It was going to be a fun ride home tonight!

  “By heavens no, I’m not married,” I replied with a chuckle. “I just have a baby. A big baby.” I was smirking, not saying anything more.

  “Well,” he said agitated, “Stevens already took care of that for you. We were told to get you both home and secure your houses.”

  “Fine then, let’s go. I’m assuming you’re to be my chauffeur as well as my sitter?” More sarcasm in my voice. He didn’t seem to mind though, probably because he was still on the baby comment. Ha! “Do you need my address, Agent Rockwall?” I asked smugly, already knowing the answer.

  “Nope, I got that,” he remarked, looking somewhat annoyed.

  “How about this,” I suggested. “I know you have to chauffeur me around and all but why don’t I take my car, you can follow me home. I promise to drive the speed limit and this way, I don’t have to worry about how I’m going to tote my big baby around.” My smirk was more pronounced now—he looked thoroughly confused. I could see in his eyes he was trying to recall everything he probably read on me. Was there a mention of a baby? Was I married at one point? Or perhaps I just had an ex-boyfriend who could possibly be the father? Was this other man going to be a problem? I could read so many questions on his face. I wanted to giggle.

  “It’s okay.” He was confounded. “I don’t mind toting your baby around with you.” He stuttered a bit, his voice monotone, pausing for a moment, then shaking his head. “What am I saying? Of course, I’ll drive your baby wherever you need! It’s your baby! I mean it’s a baby! It’s your baby!” His voice grew a pitch higher. This was way too easy.

  We headed for his truck, all the while assuring me he would take care of my car and fix all the damages from this morning’s accident. I smiled and batted my “amazin
g” eyes at him. He was probably feeling guilty for rear-ending me this morning now that he learned I had a big baby.

  He had a nice truck. It was clean and it didn’t smell. “Let’s stop for some beer and pizza to go, please. The Cowboys are playing Philadelphia tonight and I’d like to eat, drink and watch the game, if you don’t mind,” I kind of half asked since he was supposed to be my babysitter.

  “Do you think beer’s a good idea if you have to take care of your… baby?” he asked.

  “I think beer is the perfect remedy for a day like today. I have wine if you prefer that?” I was loving this game. “You know, you’re right,” I said in agreement. “Just get me home to my baby, he must be starving. I have plenty of beer and wine there and we can just order pizza.” I leaned back in my seat, trying to relax the rest of the ride home.

  He drove more offensively than defensively. No doubt he was trying to get me home to my baby. I grinned at the thought. He was quiet. Not a peep the rest of the way home. Not so much as an inquiry as to how old my baby was or the like. He found a parking spot almost in front of my brownstone. I lived in an upper middle-class area with lots of quaint brownstones. One could say it was an affluent neighborhood, although I couldn’t really afford it. My parents helped me buy my house right out of graduate school. They said they didn’t want me living in a sketchy apartment, with sketchy people and in a sketchy area, so this was their solution. The sun was starting to go down—my house looked dark. There were no lights on outside or inside so it looked like no one was home, not even my baby. He had me wait in his truck for a few minutes until he got confirmation the house was empty and no one was lurking outside. He had stepped outside to speak with another agent on the phone. I heard him ask the agent on the other end of the cell phone about my baby and if they had seen one. I couldn’t hear what the other man said, I only heard him say, “I don’t know, Davis, she said baby!” Huh, all this fuss just for me. I didn’t get it. I decided to get out and start walking to my house. This was getting to be too much like a novel; honestly, I wasn’t really that important. These people needed to have a little faith. As I made my way to my brownstone, I noticed another man in a suit at the front door, who I assumed was FBI as well. Rockwall was yelling for me to wait.

  I did as I was told and waited, rolling my eyes. Rockwall looked at me sternly, took my elbow and led me to the front door. I opened my door, shaking my head at how silly this all was. Both men walked in together before me and started to turn on all of my lights. I didn’t bother to wait; I walked in and started yelling for my big baby. A very large ball of white and brown fur came running towards me, only barking once or twice at the agents. He jumped on the sofa, tail wagging; I plopped down next to him, petting him and rubbing his belly.

  “Who’s my furry baby? Are you my furry baby? Yes, you are, you’re my big furry baby! Are you my teddy bear? Huh? Are you? Nooooo, you’re my Sammy Bear!” I was laughing at myself. I must have sounded ridiculous to these men, talking to my dog that way. “This is my big baby, Samson!” I said, smiling. “Isn’t he awesome?” I was beaming. I let him out back to use the bathroom while the new agent walked through my house. Agent Rockwall was walking around my kitchen, rubbing his head with a grin flirting on his face. I think he was a little relieved and perhaps found this funny? I found it extremely amusing and grinned back at him.

  “Kickoff is in an hour,” I chimed. “I’m going to order pizza and get in the shower. Please open the door for the delivery guy if I’m not out by then. Oh, and, should I order enough for Agent Davis?” I asked. “Will he be joining us?” I sounded a little bossy.

  “All done here,” Davis interrupted, “and, yeah, I could eat!”

  Davis’ eyes were bright with excitement. “I mean, I have a few minutes until I have to be somewhere else, so I have time, thanks.”

  Rockwall cleared his throat. “Agent Davis will not be joining us, he has to go meet Agent Stevens and Jill, and of course I’ll open the door for the pizza guy. I’ll also let your ‘big baby’ back in once he’s finished outside. Oh, and FYI, I will be opening all doors from now on or until my boss tells me I don’t need to do so any more.” He turned to Agent Davis. “I got it from here, Davis, thanks. Let me walk you to the door.” Rockwall gave him a thankful slap on the back.

  “Oh, uh, okay,” Davis seemed disappointed. “Good luck with this assignment, Rockwall, she seems like a feisty one, and bossy. Do you think Stevens has the same problem?” he wondered.

  “I don’t know. Go find out.” He hurried him out the door.

  I fed my dog and ran to get in the shower. It was now 45 minutes before kickoff and I liked long showers. Damnit! I really hated rushing my showers. I looked around my bathroom and bedroom and noticed it was a mess. I sighed heavily and wondered what Agent Davis must think of me since he went traipsing through my house. I quickly picked up while the shower warmed up. I didn’t really want Rockwall thinking I was a slob. Rockwall. Sigh. Why did him being here, watching me, irritate me so much? Why couldn’t they just sit outside in a car and watch my house like they do in the movies? I sat at the edge of my bed, pouting and sulking like a spoiled, petulant little brat. Shake it off, Isabel, this is only temporary.

  I decided to light my lavender candle and shower with my white tea and gardenia body wash. I was forcing myself to feel better about this because the Cowboys would kick off in about thirty minutes and there was no way tonight was going to be a bad night. I stepped into the hot shower and began to relax almost immediately. I washed my hair and then my body and then just stood there for a moment letting the water hit me. Mmhm, there was nothing that could ruin my mood after this. My shower and bathroom smelled like a garden. All I needed were some wind chimes and birds chirping to make this Zen experience complete. I got into my most comfy PJs, brushed my hair and put on a pair of fuzzy, pale, pink socks. I was set for Thursday night football.

  4

  I came out smiling and feeling relaxed. I noticed Agent Rockwall had made himself at home, sitting on my sofa with his shoes off and his feet crossed on my coffee table. My home was cozy and cute; my mother made sure of that. She didn’t want me getting too homesick or depressed so she would visit often and help me decorate my house and buy furniture. I loved it when she visited. We had the best time shopping and she always left me home cooked meals for the week.

  My dog was on the sofa with Rockwall, loving all the attention he was getting from him. He was such a big, spoiled puppy I couldn’t help but smile when I looked at him. I went to my refrigerator and got out two beers and two waters. I looked for paper plates and napkins for the pizza. I noticed Rockwall had put the pizza on the kitchen table but I wanted to watch the game and eat so I took everything to the living room in two trips. I opened both beers and handed one to Agent Rockwall. He took it but hesitated a bit before grabbing it. I suspected he shouldn’t be drinking alcohol but didn’t want to be rude.

  “It’s okay to say no thank you if you can’t drink. I’m still going to have one. Or two.” I winked at him.

  “You’re making it very hard to say no, you know. I mean you have pizza, beer, and a football game on, for heaven’s sake!” His tone was teasing. “How’s a man supposed to think straight? And on top of that, there’s this pretty cool dog laying its head on my lap, not really bugging me. Good job, by the way, on his grooming—he doesn’t smell like dog and his fur has got to be the softest fur I’ve ever touched on a dog.” He started petting Samson again.

  “Thanks! I put doggy cologne on him and I try to brush him a couple times a week. I love him.” I sighed.

  “Isabel, on a more serious note, there’s a few rules I have to go over with you,” he said while still petting Samson.

  “Yes, of course, there are a few things I need to talk to you about as well.” I was watching the TV, only half listening to him. I heard him talking but wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. I gave him a slice of pizza and water. He must have taken it because it wasn’t in my han
ds anymore. I was eating and drinking my beer, trying my best to come across as if I were hanging on every word he said. The Cowboys just scored. I tried not to react too much so he would think I was still paying attention. I didn’t think I was very convincing, however. I heard him yelling my name.

  “Isabel! Isabel! Do you understand what I just told you?” He lightly took my chin in his fingers and turned my head towards him.

  “Huh? Oh, yes, I understand,” I lied. I hadn’t heard a thing he just said. “So, Special Agent Rockwall, am I allowed to know your first name?” I asked.

  He smiled, nodding, “It’s Joshua…Josh.”

  I gave him a playful smile. “Nice to meet you, Josh.” There was an awkward silence. He was staring at me again. I was glad Samson was between us because it looked like he was leaning in closer to me. He lifted his hand and gently rubbed the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

  “You have some pizza sauce,” he said, licking the sauce off his thumb. What? Did he really just do that? I blinked at him.

  Shaking my head with confusion, I took a sip of my beer and got up to get more napkins. As I was leaving the kitchen, I noticed some of my mail on the floor by the back door. Hm, maybe it got knocked off the table while Agent Davis was here. I picked it up and placed it on the kitchen table, turning the light off on my way out.

  I went back to the living room and sat on the sofa with Josh. It was a long game but the Cowboys were winning. We were in the fourth quarter and the Cowboys were only ahead by three. Four minutes left in the game—anything could happen. I looked over at Josh and he had fallen asleep on my sofa. Ha! Some babysitter: he was fast asleep and not a care in the world. He looked so tranquil, so striking in his blue shirt and dark dress pants. I had a Greek god lightly snoring, sprawled out on my sofa. Just looking at him brought a smile to my face. He could make any woman’s heart skip a beat with his perfectly sculpted face, blue eyes, blond hair, his six-foot two-inch stature and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. He implied he was temporarily staying with me but he never left to get his things. He looked comfortable enough on my sofa—his sleeves rolled up and his tie off. His arms were crossed against his chest. I wondered if he was cold. Should I cover him? Better not, I don’t want to disturb him.