Truth or Lies?

by A. Gomez

  My father was yelling at Ben from the plane, “Son, I’ve got you covered! Don’t worry about that cocksucker on the ground, you just get my little girl!”

  With that Ben redirected his aim from the bleeding man to the stocky Asian man that was holding me. They each had a gun pointed at the other.

  “I take Dr. Langley,” the Asian man said, “or I kill Dr. Langley.” He then put the gun to my head. “Your choice.”

  Ben said nothing, his eyes never leaving the stocky man and his gun still aimed at him.

  So, they wanted to take me? I thought they wanted to kill me? What changed? I heard the low hum of a muscle car approaching us. I turned my head to see who it was and it was a yellow Dodge Charger. The driver was another Asian man. The bleeding Asian man on the ground was yelling something in Mandarin at the stocky man, except he didn’t reply. The bleeding man kept yelling but my captor stayed quiet, waiting to see what Ben would do. The Charger was now next to us, rumbling loudly. By the sound of it, there was no way my little Jetta would be able to catch this thing in a car chase. I couldn’t let them put me in that car. Once they did that I would never see my family again. My heart was in my throat.

  Ben stepped closer. “Isabel, a little help?”

  Fuck! He wanted my help? How? I nodded and thought of only one thing I could possibly do. The bleeding man was now yelling louder and trying to get up to go for his gun. My father shot him in the ankle, causing him to flop to the ground once more and then shot his gun out of reach. The stocky man that had a hold on me was briefly distracted, so I took the hand that had the gun to my head, pulled it to my mouth and bit his wrist as hard as could. He let out a horrific yell, yanked his hand out of my mouth and hit me hard on the back of my head with my pistol. It was so hard that my ears started to ring and my vision blurred. I was holding my head, trying to ease the pain. I shut my eyes, feeling a little queasy from the ringing and the blurriness. I couldn’t hear or see anything very well.

  Somebody fired their weapon, I thought. Was someone yelling in pain? Was it Ben or was it the Asian man? Next thing I knew I was in the yellow Charger, with the stocky man speeding away, the engine revving so loud I could feel the vibration throughout my body. I gingerly lifted my head and took a fleeting look out the back window. Ben was on the ground trying to get up. He was holding his right arm. He had been shot.

  27

  The man driving was saying something to the stocky man in Chinese. Their tone was harsh and abrasive. It sounded like they were arguing. Perhaps about the man they left behind bleeding but still alive. If he didn’t die or get killed then the FBI had a suspect they could question and possibly force him to help find me. All I can do was hope for that.

  The ringing in my ears was beginning to subside and my vision wasn’t as blurry anymore but my head hurt like hell. I heard a small voice whimpering beside me. Oh, good heavens! It was a very young girl sitting next me. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and was shivering from the cold. Oh, my goodness! Where did she come from? I wrapped my arms around her and she quickly hugged me.

  “Angel, what’s your name?” I whispered.

  “Betty Lou,” she answered softly through her tears.

  “Betty Lou,” I repeated, “that’s such a lovely name. How old are you?” My eyes flickered to the Asian men. They were still arguing.

  “I’m twelve,” she said.

  Right then and there, my heart broke into a million pieces for this little girl. She was just a baby. How did she get to be with these men? This had got to be the worst kind of nightmare for her. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Angel, tell me how you got in this car.”

  “My mom’s boyfriend sold me to them. They came and got me while my mom was at the store,” she said. “I tried to tell her he was bad but she didn’t listen to me.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed the top of her head. I was shivering with her but not from the cold. I was angry and scared for her beyond belief. “Betty Lou, has anyone touched you in a way you don’t like?” I asked, pulling her closer to me.

  “No, but they look at me in a way I don’t like.”

  I sighed softly and muttered a short prayer under my breath. These men were the devil incarnate. You had to be a special kind of evil to be okay with buying a little girl for the sole purpose of selling her or prostituting her out to some depraved, dirty old man. I couldn’t let anyone touch her… even if it killed me. “Betty Lou, my name is Isabel Grace Langley. Try to stay close to me whenever we get to our destination, okay?”

  She nodded. I smiled warmly at her. “Betty Lou, I believe in praying, do you?” She nodded.

  “Great!” I whispered. “I want you to start praying now and I want you to continue the entire time we’re in this mess. It’s okay if you stop to take a break but then I want you start again. And it can be as simple as you just having a conversation with God. You can even ask him questions.” I kissed the top of her head again. “Whatever you do, don’t stop praying and I promise you, I will help you get out of this horrible situation. I just need your help too and your prayers will do that for me.”

  She nodded. I needed something for her to hold on to if and when she and I got separated. My mother would tell us something very similar when we were little. She was trying to help us help ourselves. She was trying to help us be brave. Did it work? Sort of, but we were never in a horrific situation such as this. I prayed that it worked for Betty Lou.

  The two men seemed to have calmed down. The stocky man took out a photograph and stared at it. He showed it to the driver and then looked at it again. He shifted his body, turning to face me. Holding up the photo, he looked at me and then back again at the photo.

  “Dr. Isabel Langley?” he asked in a thick Chinese accent.

  “Yes,” I answered icily.

  He laughed a sadistic laugh. “I told Tony it was you and not your double.” He turned around and sat back in his seat. “Ginger is very good with directions. She said your hair down and wavy today and bery preety.” He paused to say something in Chinese to the driver. “Ginger bery jealous.” They both laughed.

  “So, Ginger knows where I was going tonight?” I asked in disbelief. “How did she know I’d be on the tarmac?”

  “Your boyfriend told her,” the stocky man answered. “He tell her he love you and is going to your office to say good-bye before you leave.”

  The driver was snickering like a weasel. “Ginger bery jealous.”

  “My boyfriend?” I repeat, stupefied, “Dr. David Summers? He told her?”

  They both nodded. My heart skipped a beat. Why would David tell her anything about me? Perhaps it was casually… just in passing in his rush to get out and get upstairs.

  “If I your boyfriend,” the driver began, “I would run and hide. Ginger call us to burn your boyfriend car.” They fist bumped each other. “Wooh! Ginger bery jealous!”

  I inhaled sharply. “Oh my God! You’re the two hooded men David told me about?”

  “Not two. Three. One to drive and two to burn car,” he answered.

  “Does Ginger work for you?” My eyes were wide and flickering between the pair of them.

  “She work for our boss. Your boyfriend work for him a little too,” the stocky man added.

  I was stunned. I didn’t want to believe it. Not David. He would never. My heart broke in two and I gripped Betty Lou a little tighter, laying my cheek on the top of her head. Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t believe you,” I said, my voice cracking. “David would never work for an organization so heinous as yours,” I said with conviction.

  Again, they laughed their weaselly, high-pitched laugh. “David make a lot of money helping Ginger and our boss.” The stocky man was rubbing his thumb and index finger together.

  I didn’t want to hear any more. I didn’t want to believe what they were saying about David was true, but then again, they had no reason to lie to me. I blinked the tears away and took a deep breath before asking, “Where are
we going?”

  They didn’t answer. They were stone-faced and staring straight ahead. I asked again only louder this time but they still didn’t answer. The stocky man just slightly turned his head to look at me. I tried to look out the windows but it was too dark outside and the windows were too tinted. I still felt disoriented from the blow to my head. When I tried looking out the window, all I could see were lights, no street names. I felt helpless.

  We’d been driving for at least an hour by my calculations. I looked at my watch and it was almost eleven at night. I had never called Josh so I knew he’d be calling any minute, wondering if I forgot about him. Betty Lou had fallen asleep in my arms, I gingerly laid her head on my lap so she could rest more comfortably and so I could move and shift around without the two men thinking I was up to something. This would afford me the opportunity to reach into my purse and take my phone out without them suspecting.

  Right on cue, my phone started to vibrate—it was Josh. Thankfully, the loud hum and vibrating of their muscle car was nicely masking the vibration of my phone.

  I touched the answer button and held it face down so they couldn’t see the light. “Where are you taking us?” I asked again, loud enough so Josh could hear. “I know your boss probably told you not to give me any information but I know we’re headed east out of the city and I know you’re taking us to a house. You could be a little courteous and tell me something, anything.” I really didn’t know we were going to a house or what direction we were headed. I just threw that out there to see what they would say.

  “How do you know we take you to a house?” the driver asked.

  “Lucky guess, I suppose,” I answered. “So, where is the house?”

  They didn’t answer. They didn’t even glance back at me. I had to try something different. “Could you at least tell me your names?”

  The stocky man said something to the driver in Chinese then quickly glanced back at me. “His name Tony and my name Frank.”

  “Tony and Frank,” I said, “I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet y’all because it’s not. Do y’all have last names or do you just go by Tony and Frank?”

  They were muttering something to each other in Chinese. The driver, Tony, looked in his rearview mirror at me. “You ask too many question.”

  “Well, it is what I do for a living,” I said. “How about this, let’s make a bet. If I can guess who will be at the house then you have to tell me where the house is.” I eyed them, hoping they would take the bait. “Of course, if I can’t guess then you win and I stay quiet for the rest of the ride to… wherever. Deal?”

  They looked at each other and both let out a snort. Frank shook his head. They didn’t answer. I looked down at Betty Lou, stroked her hair and stealthily glanced at my phone to make sure Josh was still on the line. He was. I tried a different tactic.

  “I see, so you two are a couple of pussies,” I declared, stooping to their level. “Y’all are afraid of losing to a girl. You’re right to be afraid of losing to me. I was able to slow Frank down, pretty good, and I could’ve killed your other friend back there when I shot him but I decided not to.” My heart was pounding at my audacity. I was either going to get them so enraged by my smart mouth they would kill me or they’d take the bet to prove to themselves they were better than me.

  Frank started yelling something in Chinese, pulled my gun out and aimed it at my head. “Shut up, bitch! I kill you with your gun!”

  Tony grabbed the barrel of the gun, yelling at Frank and shoved it downward away from me. I gave Frank a sardonic grin. “That’s right, Frank, listen to your babysitter.”

  “Shut up, girl! You have a big mouth,” Tony shouted.

  “Maybe,” I retorted, “but that doesn’t negate the fact that y’all are afraid of a girl beating you on a bet.”

  They were talking rapidly with one another. It seemed they were discussing it. Please take the bet, please take the bet, I chanted in my head, holding my breath and praying I didn’t get caught with my phone. They weren’t smart enough to take my purse away from me or even check the contents so I was hoping they were just as dumb at this game to let something slip.

  “Guess!” Frank shouted.

  “Awesome! So, we’re going to play,” I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice light and even. “Now remember, if I guess correctly, you have to tell me where the house is.”

  “Whatever.” Frank sounded perturbed, “Just guess so you can shut-up!”

  I cleared my throat. “So, as I said before, we’re going to a house and we’re heading east.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and continued, “At this house we’re going to, there are a lot of girls. A lot of young girls.” I saw them visibly stiffen but they didn’t react. “At this house there’s also a woman named Debbie Danhour. Debbie takes care of the girls.” My eyes were darting between Tony and Frank. Their expressions were unreadable; however, I was only able to see their profiles. “There’s also another Asian man there keeping watch. I don’t know his name, though,” I said.

  Everyone was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Frank turned to glare at me, Tony looked at Frank out of the corner of his eye.

  “You cheat, Dr. Langley,” Frank said flatly. “Your doctor boyfriend tell you all this because Ginger friends with Debbie.” He paused, taking my gun out once more and aiming it at me. “I kill you for cheating.”

  Tony pulled the car over and put it in park. He was shouting at Frank in Chinese and grabbing the gun by the barrel, shoving it down and away from me. The two men were yelling so loud they startled Betty Lou awake. I looked at her and put my finger to my lips for her to be quiet. She nodded and kept her head on my lap.

  “I’m right, aren’t’ I?” I yelled so they could hear me.

  “No, Dr. Langley, you only fifty percent right,” Tony answered. “We head north not east, but you are right about girls.” He turned to Frank and took my gun away from him and placed it under the waistband of his pants.

  “Hey,” I griped, “What about the bet we made? You owe me an answer as to where this house is. I got more than you care to admit right or else Frank, here, wouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

  “We go sixteen miles north of the city,” Tony said, flatly. “Frank is stupid. He don’t see you try to trick us for information. You get no more information.” And he got back on the road.

  I sighed. Well, at least I got them to say what direction we were headed and how many miles out of Chicago. I just hoped it was the truth. Betty Lou started tugging on my pants trying to get my attention. I looked down at her and she was trying to talk to me with her hands. She held her hands as if she was gripping a steering wheel and then mouthed the words, “talk about the car,” then pointed to my phone. She was brilliant! I winked at her and smiled.

  “So, this is a super sweet ride you have, Tony. What is this a two-door Dodge Charger?” I looked at Betty Lou and she gave me a thumbs up. “I love the color too, bright yellow with a black stripe down the center. It sounds like you souped it up, too.”

  Tony eyed me from his mirror, giving nothing away. I kept talking.

  “What did you do to it?” I asked. “Did you punch out your cat?”

  They glanced at each other and then to me. Are they surprised I can speak car? I smirked, thankful my father was in the car business and all we did at the dinner table was talk car talk. Now, I was curious to find out if they knew what I was asking. If they knew that punching out a cat meant to empty out your catalytic converter.

  “The noise is not so bad,” I continued. “How did you get it past inspection?”

  “I didn’t,” he finally answered. “My tag is fake. My friend make it for me and no cops know.” He and Frank laughed their weasel laugh. The sound was so awful it sent shivers down my spine.

  “What about a high-flow cat-back exhaust system?” I asked, trying to get as much information as possible. “It felt like it had a lot of torque when we were getting away. Do you have that in place?”

&
nbsp; He turned his head, dumbfounded. “No, I did cold air intake.”

  “I can tell. Your car is louder than normal but still to where no cop will notice.” I looked down at Betty Lou, stroking her hair again and carefully glancing at my phone. Crap! It was at one percent. I was running out of ideas. I then saw that we were approaching a house. A very large house. In fact, this was a mansion size house. I somehow had to describe the mansion before my phone died.

  “Oh my. This isn’t a house this is a mansion and it looks like we’re driving into a compound,” I said. “It’s surrounded by high walls and lots and lots of trees. It’s actually gorgeous here.” I was surprised. “Y’all said I was right about going to a house but this is no house. This is a mansion inside a compound.”

  We stopped beside a small silver box where Tony punched in a code and looked up at a security camera. The massive gates began to open, letting us in. We went over a bump and onto the long driveway toward the mansion. I snuck another glance at my phone. Dead. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. I hoped Josh was able to hear the last of the one-sided conversation. Slowly and stealthily I placed my phone back in my purse. Betty Lou sat up and was gripping me for dear life. I held her close to me, needing a little comfort myself. My heart leapt into my throat and my adrenaline began to surge. I was terrified out of my mind, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to protect Betty Lou.

  Frank opened the door, moving the front seat forward so Betty Lou and I could get out. I clasped Betty’s hand and gingerly helped her out with me. She immediately scooted closer to me and held my hand in a death grip. I mentally said a prayer, asking for superhuman strength and the wherewithal to escape this place in one piece with Betty Lou.

  I looked up and around to see if I could see where exactly this place was. Wherever this place was, it was beautiful. I couldn’t see any neighbors on either side. All I saw were trees, landscaping and a lot of wall. Landscape lighting illuminated the house, trees and landscaping. It was all very appealing to the eye and picturesque. In fact, I would say the house and its surroundings would make for a great article on getaway homes in Architectural Digest.