Basic

by E. J. Mara

  A receptionist behind a small desk acknowledged us with a smile, and said, “Good morning, Vander, Shelly.”

  Only then did I realize what this was- a cover.

  This was where Van pretended to work as an Investment Broker, but he and probably everyone else in the building were actually FBI agents.

  At this, I couldn’t help but feel even more nervous, chills running up and down my arms as I wondered if the kindly-looking receptionist behind the desk had seen footage of me and Mom on whatever surveillance the FBI had taken of us.

  In any case, she probably knew that I was the daughter of a murderer.

  Van greeted the receptionist in turn, but Shelly the turd said nothing. With this, they directed me around a corner and down a narrow hallway lined with closed office doors. At the end of the hallway was a small and well-lit meeting room with about fifteen chairs all facing a podium. I looked around and huddled in the left corner of the room were Jonathan, Kimberly, Lindsey and Jen.

  Relieved, I exhaled.

  While my friends quietly talked amongst themselves, two adults stood nearby, not saying anything… I guessed they were agents who were tasked with standing guard.

  I started towards them, but Shelly grabbed my arm. She startled me so badly I jumped.

  “You can have a seat,” Shelly said, nodding to one of the chairs that faced the podium. “We’ll be starting our meeting in a few minutes.”

  “Shelly,” Van said, touching her shoulder. “Let her talk to her friends. It’s all right.”

  Shelly scowled, her hand still gripping my upper arm as she hissed, “We only have two and a half hours with these kids, we don’t have time to-”

  “If she talks to her friends for a minute, it’s not going to make a difference,” Van said, his voice low. “Let her go.”

  Shelly sighed, but released me.

  Unnerved, I returned my attention to my friends and they were all looking at me.

  I lowered my gaze to the floor, a rush of fear taking hold of me.

  How much had the FBI agents who’d brought them here told them? Did they know I’d been lying to them? Did they know my real name?

  I looked up and all four of them were walking towards me, Jonathan looked worried, Kimberly looked scared and Lindsey had clearly been crying. Jen, on the other hand, had both of her hands in the pockets of her denim daisy dukes and was unenthusiastically chewing gum with a bored expression on her face, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

  For once, I almost appreciated her cool and unaffected attitude.

  I tensed as they approached, unsure if I should smile and say hi or start off by apologizing.

  I wasn’t given the choice, because before I could even open my mouth Kimberly embraced me with an incredibly tight and incredibly long hug. I felt someone else pat me on the arm and I glanced over Kimberly’s shoulder to see that it was Jonathan. Jen saw this too, and shot Jonathan a dirty look. I decided to ignore this. I could only handle one massive problem at a time.

  When Kimberly finally released me, she kept hold of my hands and looked me in the eye as she shook her head and said, “What the hell?”

  Still unsure of how much she knew, I didn’t know if she was referring to the fact that I’d been lying to her and everyone else since the moment I’d met them or if she was referring to the general awkwardness of being apprehended by the FBI.

  So, I just shook my head and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Kimberly and Lindsey said at the same time.

  I glanced at them, surprised. So, the FBI hadn’t told them I’d lied. Instead of this realization filling me with relief, I shifted on my feet, my anxiety increasing.

  In a matter of minutes, they would know. The FBI would have to tell them the truth. About everything…

  I bit down on my bottom lip and shook my head. “Yeah it is. This is kinda my fault.”

  “No, it really isn’t,” Kimberly said soothingly. She started to hug me again, but I pushed her away and retracted my hands from hers. Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “I didn’t know my mom was a … I didn’t know she had it in her to kill someone,” I said, my voice trembling more than I would have liked. I cleared my throat and forced calm into my tone, continuing, “But I did know that she was… is, that she is a thief. She steals from men. She targets rich men who get their money by defrauding others and she makes them fall in love with her and then she takes their money and leaves, without a trace.”

  As calm as I’d been trying to sound, my breathing was heavy and my words were barely above a whisper. I hesitated, looking at the faces of my friends. Jen no longer appeared bored. Her mouth hanging open, she stared at me with a scowl and a look of disbelief. Kimberly and Lindsey both looked shocked. And Jonathan’s eyes held a combination of concern and unease.

  “That’s why we move around so much,” I said. “That’s also why… we have to use different names every time we move. So, my Mom’s name isn’t Angie and I’m not Libby.” I looked down, wishing I could close my eyes and plug my ears so I didn’t have to see or hear their reaction to what I was saying. “I’m sorry I lied. My real name is Amanda and I knew my mom stole for a living, but I went along with it. So, this… it is my fault. I’m sorry. About everything.”

  I dared to look up and the first thing I saw was Kimberly’s face fall, her eyebrows dipping into a scowl as she shook her head. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I knew would come next.

  Kimberly took a step towards me and opened her mouth to say something just as Shelly clapped her hands and shouted, “Kids, take a seat, please. It’s time for us to start. Everyone needs to choose a seat right here in this first row of chairs.”

  Kimberly and I were still staring at each other, her face drawn into a scowl and my heart pounding. I’m losing one of the best friends I’d ever had. And it’s all my fault.

  “Take a seat, now!” Shelly shouted. “And don’t make me say it again.”

  “Jesus. We hear you,” Jen shouted, and then mumbled, “Y’all, this cow’s going to give herself an unscheduled period if we don’t sit down.”

  With this, Jen started to the first row of chairs and all four of us followed in line behind her, like ducklings following their mother.

  I sat between Jonathan and Lindsey, my heart beating like a drum in my chest while Van pulled an empty chair up to the podium and sat in it, looking at each of us.

  “This feels like an AA meeting,” Jen said with a sigh.

  “Well it isn’t. And if you talk out of turn again, I could easily have you staring at the inside of a jail cell,” Shelly snapped.

  Jen yawned and examined her nails as if she hadn’t heard a word Shelly said.

  For a moment, I liked Jen even more. And I wished I had her attitude.

  Van cleared his throat and said, “Despite my partner’s threat, we’re not here to arrest you. We’re here to work with you.” He looked at Kimberly, who was sitting just on the other side of Lindsey, to my right. Van gestured to Kimberly and said, “You had a great intentions, you wanted to rally a group of people who would support the search for a missing woman. Farrah Duncan. That’s admirable, Kim.”

  I couldn’t see her facial expression, but I heard the timidity in her voice as she said, “Thank you.”

  “But, what you should have done was contacted the proper authorities,” Shelly said. “Instead, you put your own life and the lives of your friends in jeopardy by launching a dangerous and ill-planned rescue attempt. Something that could’ve easily gotten you all killed.”

  We all hung our heads in shame.

  “That said,” Van slowly said. “Your intentions were admirable and you did manage to turn up some helpful intel. So, tell me what you found out about Farrah.” Van paused and looked at each of us. “And, anyone can speak, not just Kim.”

  I raised my hand.

  Everyone glanced at me and Van nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead, uh, Libby.”

&
nbsp; “It’s okay,” Kimberly said, her tone dry. “We know her real name now. Go ahead, Amanda.”

  Wanting to dig a hole a crawl into it, I said, “When I went into Timothy Dawes house, which I’m assuming you have footage of…?”

  Van nodded. “Yes. But go on, what did you see there?”

  “In one of his bedrooms, there was a room where it looked like he’d been holding someone hostage and like, torturing them or something. I saw a bloody tarp on the floor. At least I think it was blood. So, we were pretty sure that since he was the guy who kidnapped Farrah, he must have also been her murderer. But we never figured out why or where he put...um, her. Like, her body.”

  Lindsey took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. I looked at her thankfully and she offered me a sad smile.

  “Okay,” Van said. “You all were correct. The stains on that tarp were blood and it belonged to Farrah Duncan. We also have a lead on where her body, and several other bodies of women who were killed by Timothy Dawes have been buried. This is sad news,” he said, looking at each of us, “But at the same time it’ll offer closure to grieving families. That’s one of the positive angles of this situation. Another is that Timothy Dawes’ interaction with Caroline Hollister has given us a huge lead on a case we’ve been following for just over two years.”

  I tensed, knowing that he was referring to my mother’s criminal activities.

  Van met my eyes, a questioning look in his.

  Understanding that he was asking for my permission to continue, I quietly said, “They know my mom’s a criminal. It’s fine to talk about it.”

  Obviously uncomfortable, Van shifted in his seat.

  I glanced at Shelly and caught her rolling her eyes.

  Van took a deep breath and said, “Caroline Hollister isn’t your average con artist. For a long time now, we’ve suspected that she’s a trained assassin who works for a North American drug and sex-trading organization known for terminating former members who’ve become ‘bad eggs.’” Van paused, glancing at me.

  I stared at him, taking in what he’d said.

  Lindsey tightened her grip on my hand and said, “So, Lib- I mean, Amanda’s mom kills bad guys?”

  Van hesitated, “Um-”

  “Yes,” Shelly said and we all turned to her. “But that’s no credit to her, because bad guys are paying her to kill bad guys. They’re all scum.”

  Scum. My mother was… scum?

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  Am I scum too?

  All at once, I felt an arm around my shoulders and heard Jonathan’s voice in my ear, “It’s okay, Amanda. We’re all right here with you. Everything’s okay.”

  I opened my eyes and turned to Jonathan, who’d draped his arm across my shoulders. And ever so slowly, I glanced down at Lindsey’s hand in mine.

  Even though they knew the truth about me, they were still my friends.

  Strengthened, I tightened my grip on Lindsey’s hand as I returned my attention to Van and asked, “How many people has my mother killed?”

  He hesitated. “We’re not-”

  “Approximately eight in the past four years,” Shelly piped up. “And quite possibly two, before your birth.”

  I silently calculated how many times we’d moved since my dad left us.

  Eight.

  That meant Mom had probably killed someone in every new state we’d moved to, which meant her job as an assassin was what had really kept us on the move- not her job as a con artist.

  She’d lied to me so much and so convincingly.

  I took a deep breath. “So, was Timothy Dawes a sex-trafficker? And that was why she killed him?”

  “Yes. We believe that Farrah Duncan was a known sex-worker and Timothy Dawes was her handler,” Van said. “But when Farrah wanted out of the business, to get her life back on track, he got angry and killed her. He’d done the same with two other workers who’d wanted out and his superiors were tired of his sloppiness- so they sent Caroline to finish him off.”

  I frowned. “But, Farrah wasn’t kidnapped until a few days after we moved here,” I said.

  Van nodded sadly. “Exactly. My personal belief is that your mother didn’t move to Sunnyville for a job, she moved here for a real life. She wanted out. And then this job found her.”

  “And it was the one job that would lead to us taking her down,” Shelly added.

  “So, my mom wanted to quit,” I said, thinking of the night she’d come into my room for a chat and confessed that she was in love with Van.

  That had been real.

  “And,” Van said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Unfortunately, your mother’s superiors had more for her to do. We intercepted a message that was sent to her last night. It’s a list of four names, higher-ups in their organization who’ve become problems. Caroline’s superiors have told her that if she takes care of those four individuals, they’ll let her retire. So, we need to get her behind bars before she gets away and starts on that list.”

  “Then why don’t you just arrest her?” Kimberly asked.

  “A little thing called evidence,” Shelly said. “We don’t have enough.”

  “How is a full-on video of her murdering a dude not enough evidence?” Jen asked, her tone dry.

  “The footage itself might be enough for a warrant, but it won’t hold up in court because of the way it was obtained,” Van said. “And even if we have a warrant and get Caroline behind bars, she’ll most likely make bail and slip right out of our fingers. So, we need something better than the video and that’s where you kids, especially Amanda, come in.”

  I gulped. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Testify against her, on video,” Van said, looking me in the eye. “The video will be played for the judge assigned to your mom’s case. Be truthful about what you know about your mother’s actions and about what you’ve suspected over the years.” Van turned his attention to Kimberly, Jen, Lindsey and Jonathan as he said, “And you guys will testify too, about things Amanda’s told you that didn’t quite add up. Or about any encounters you’ve had with her mother, during which she told you odd things that didn’t seem to make sense or that made you suspicious – Jonathan I know you happened to chat with Ms. Hollister when she’d had a few drinks and what did she tell you about her husband, Gerald James?”

  I frowned, wondering how Van had managed to hear that conversation between Jonathan and a very drunk version of my mother as the three of us had stood in our kitchen. Did the FBI have our entire house bugged?

  Jonathan nodded. “Yes, sir. She said her ex-husband was still alive, even though um, everyone was persuaded to believe that he’d died of cancer. And she almost insinuated that she’d killed other men, but not him. Even though she wished she had killed him.”

  At the thought of my father, an obscure thought popped into my head and I blurted, “What about my dad? Was he in on it all too?”

  “No,” Van said, shaking his head. “Definitely not. I’ve spoken to Mr. James several times, Amanda. He’s an upstanding citizen. And he, um, he’s been searching for you actually. Ever since your Mom left with you.”

  My vision blurred with tears and I shook my head, not believing him. “But she didn’t leave him, he left us! He was, he… Mom said he was abusive and he left.”

  “Hon,” Shelly said, her voice softening the tiniest bit. “That’s not what happened. When your father found out about Caroline’s past, he threatened to go to the police. And your mom wasn’t having that. So, while you were in school, she beat him-”

  “Shelly,” Van snapped, shooting her a look.

  “What? The kid deserves the truth,” Shelly arched an eyebrow at him. “She’s been lied to practically her whole life.”

  “What happened to my dad? Please tell me!” I demanded.

  Van sighed and waved a hand in Shelly’s direction, as if granting her permission to continue.

  But whether he’d granted it or not, she, clearly would have continued with the stor
y of my dysfunctional past because she’d already resumed the sordid tale.

  “Your Mom beat your father until he was unconscious,” Shelly said. “Then she drove him to motel a few counties over and dumped him in a room there, to make it look like he’d checked himself in. And from there, she picked you up from school and fed you some story about her being a battered wife and him leaving you both high and dry.”

  “She hurt him?” I repeated, trying to work through the facts.

  My Mom wasn’t abused? But, she’d been the abuser?

  “Right,” Shelly said. “We don’t think he ever laid a finger on your mother. She never officially filed charges against him, she just vanished. And she told you the story she thought you needed to hear to keep you from looking for him.”

  Another lie. A huge lie. Possibly, the most hurtful out of all her lies.

  For the next twenty minutes, Van talked to us about what we’d need to say on camera and about how it would impact the case against my mother.

  It made me sick and frankly, I didn’t want to do it.

  But I also didn’t want to side with a lying murderer who’d beat my father until he was unconscious.

  So, finally, I raised my hand and said, “I don’t want to testify against my own mother.”

  “Oh, God,” Shelly said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “I knew it.”

  “But-” Van started.

  “I want to get her to confess,” I said, interrupting him. “What if I got her to confess on camera? Would that work instead?”

  Shelly and Van exchanged glances.

  “Do you really feel like that’s something you’re up for?” Van asked.

  “I walked into a murderer’s home and had a fairly pleasant chat with him,” I quietly said. “And I just found out that my mother has murdered, quite possibly, ten people. I’m pretty sure I can handle just about anything now.”

  Van frowned, looking at me with doubtful eyes.

  “I say we let her do it,” Shelly said.

  For once, I agreed with her.

  After a tense moment, Van nodded. “Okay.”