Truth or Lies?

by A. Gomez

  The drive from the silver box to the front of the house must have been at least twenty-five yards if not more. We were very secluded and it all seemed very private. When the wind blew, the only noises I heard were the crickets and some rustling from the trees and shrubs. Perhaps the occasional wind chime or two, but I couldn’t tell where that sound was coming from. The two men ushered us to the front door and inside the mansion. I felt like we were walking into the perfect storm and we would soon be lost in a perfect nightmare. I gazed down at Betty Lou; her eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty and she was still shivering from the cold. I wished I had my jacket to drape over her. What kind of mother dressed or allowed her underage child to dress in summer clothes when it was late November in Chicago? If we got out of this alive, I was going to make sure Betty did not go back with her mother.

  We walked in and the first thing I saw was a very majestic staircase with wrought-iron railings and steps made out of marble. The steps were so large they looked as if they belonged in a palace. The foyer was an elegant copy of something out of Versailles with an expensive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above us. There were four oversized, emerald-green velvet chairs, two to the left and two to the right of the massive front doors. All looked plush and inviting. A large glass table accented the entryway in the middle of the spacious foyer with an expensive crystal vase on it. The vase held lilies. I could smell them as soon as we walked in. They were stunning. This wasn’t just a mansion; this was a palatial, behemoth estate with expensive lighting and furniture. It was all breathtaking. I was oddly eager to see the rest of the house.

  “Wow!” Betty Lou whispered.

  “I think you’re right,” I muttered. “Wow.”

  Tony was walking toward another room and Frank pushed us to follow him. Frank was considerably shorter than me but very thick and stocky. His gait and carriage were odd looking when he walked. His torso looked longer than his legs and when he walked he took two steps to my one. He kind of reminded me of an alligator walking. If we were back home I think the folks there would nickname him Gator Leg. I grinned inwardly at the thought. Tony looked to be a little taller than Frank, maybe my height and a great deal leaner looking, not so thick or stocky.

  We walked into a great room with what looked like elegant, art deco-style furniture mixed together. I wasn’t sure if I should call it a great room or just a very large living room. A great living room? There was extremely expensive artwork on a few of the walls. My eyes went directly to the Picasso. It must be a reproduction. A very good reproduction, I’d add. Surely this couldn’t be an original. I had the urge to inspect it further when I heard my name. An older woman with dirty blonde hair was sitting in one of the sofas writing in a large booklet. She stood up to greet us. Her short, pear-shaped figure made her look very motherly. Not at all like someone who worked for the Chinese Triads. She had a pug nose and was wearing a big smile. I automatically recognized her from the hospital. It was Debbie.

  “So, you’re the infamous Dr. Isabel Langley,” she sounded almost excited to meet me. “I’ve heard so much about you, especially how you make Ginger’s life miserable. I’m Debbie,” she said with a warm smile.

  I know who you are, bitch, I thought silently. You’re the woman that’s helping the Triads. I’m sure Ginger has also said how she wants me dead or to disappear.

  “Ginger said you were pretty but I think she’s way off base here… you’re gorgeous. No wonder she hates you. And also, the fact that David Summers picked you over her.”

  “Is that why I’m here?” I snapped, surprised. “Ginger is jealous of me so she had to get me out of the way? How is that going to help her situation with David?”

  “Honey, I really don’t know. Sometimes there’s no reasoning with Ginger,” said Debbie, sounding confounded. “All I know is I need her help at times and I don’t want to ruin my rapport with her. So, here you are,” she paused. “And yous guys are late,” she chided in her Midwest accent, looking and pointing at Tony and Frank. “Where’s Chet?”

  Chet? That Asian guy they left behind was named Chet? Did his parents name him that or did he just draw a name out of hat? That name was so eighties. And so ridiculous. It was ridiculous then and it was still ridiculous now. When I heard the name Chet, I thought of my parents and all those cheesy eighties movies they had at home. And then, I had the most inappropriate urge to giggle. I bit my lip trying to hide my amusement. A smirk began to flirt on my lips. I covered my mouth and pretended I was yawning.

  Tony leaned in, explaining what happened on the tarmac. Debbie’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth gaped open, staring at me.

  “Well, not sure what the boss is going to say about this. I just sent him a text letting him know you’re here. He’ll be here shortly,” she said. “You men can help yourselves to whatever’s in the fridge. The girls made Italian tonight so you should like it.” Debbie eyed Betty Lou up and down. “Honey, you look like you’re freezing. Is this what those morons picked you up in?” Betty nodded and scooted closer to me. “Don’t worry, honey, I won’t take you away from Isabel but I’d like to take you both upstairs and get you some warm clothes and show you to your room. Is that okay with you?” Debbie sounded very motherly, kind, almost.

  Betty looked up at me for reassurance. I nodded, half smiling and squeezed her hand a bit tighter to let her know I wouldn’t let her go. Debbie eyed both of us, her face unreadable. Betty nodded.

  “All right then, follow me,” Debbie said.

  We followed her to a second set of stairs toward the back of the kitchen. These weren’t so grand as the ones by the front door but still very nice. They were also marble with wrought-iron railing but a great deal smaller, an average-sized staircase. We walked up quietly, Betty and I looking all around us, taking everything in. As we reached the top of the steps, I immediately saw another work of art. I gasped softly. Debbie heard me and turned her head slightly, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. Oh. My. Goodness. This couldn’t possibly be. It was a Georges Seurat. The painting was called A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. It was one of his most famous pieces. This had to be a copy. Surely.

  “Yes, it’s the original.” Debbie answered my unspoken question. “The Boss just got it from some guy in Florida.”

  My eyes were wide and my jaw dropped. This painting was supposed to be in a museum! How the hell did it get here? Did this mean the Picasso downstairs was an original too?

  “I saw you admiring the Picasso in the living room downstairs. That’s an original too,” Debbie offered. “The Boss is really big on art. He goes to art auctions all the time. You’ll see a lot of art, including sculptures, throughout the house.”

  “Your boss is as crooked as a dog’s hind leg. I doubt this piece is from any art auction… if it truly is the original,” I said. “I remember seeing this in the Chicago Museum of Art. If this painting is in fact the original, then your boss either paid more money than he can say grace over or he acquired this work of art through some questionable means. I’m willing to wager the latter,” I said matter-of-factly.

  Debbie laughed. “Isabel, your sayings… and with that accent… it’s positively hilarious!” She was laughing more than I appreciated. Okay already! I get it. I sound funny, but if you were in my neck of the woods, you’d be the funny sounding one. I glared at her.

  “I like how you talk,” Betty Lou said sweetly. I gave her a warm smile and kissed the back of her hand.

  28

  We walked into a lovely, spacious bedroom with an en suite bathroom. A soft nightlight illuminated the room just enough for us to see. There was a girl fast asleep at the far end of the bedroom in a full-size, maybe queen bed. She didn’t stir at all. She looked blissful in her slumber. Debbie whispered so as not to wake the girl. She showed us where our bed was and informing us that all the windows were screwed shut and the shutters as well. I remembered what Alex said about not being able to see out the windows because everything was nailed
closed. No wonder she couldn’t tell us where she was being held. I couldn’t see out of the car windows and once inside this fortress, a wall, trees and shrubs surrounded us. And on top of all that, all the windows were permanently shut. She took some clothes from the closet that were more appropriate for the Chicago fall weather and handed them to Betty Lou. She also gave her and me a pair of satin PJs. I looked at the tag on the clothes Betty was holding—size 10/12. I looked at her PJs and they too were a 10/12. My stomach clenched and my mouth went dry. Did they have other girls the same age as Betty Lou here? That would be the only explanation for Debbie having any clothes her size.

  “Girls,” Debbie began, “if you want to shower you can. There are clean towels in the linen closet, and there are new toothbrushes in the far right-hand drawer next to one of the sinks. I know it’s late but I’ll bring up some milk and cookies for yous both just in case you’re hungry.” With that she left us. She came across as being very hospitable and kind. I wondered if this was an act and perhaps she’d be a different person in the morning. Only time would tell. I sighed, closing my eyes. How much time did I have here? What were they planning on doing with me? I knew what they were planning for Betty Lou. The thought sent chills throughout my body. I couldn’t let that happen. So many questions were running through my mind and at the same time the thought of Josh involuntarily popped in there. He must be out of his mind with worry. I knew he was going to do everything he could to get me. I just had to somehow help him and buy him some time.

  Betty tugged on my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down at her. “Isabel Grace, that lady seems really nice. Maybe it’s not so bad here.”

  “Oh, angel…” I knelt in front of her, stroking her hair. “This is just the calm before the storm. I’m glad she’s being nice and she’s giving us a nice snack but if she’s helping those bad men that kidnapped us she’s just as bad as they are.” I looked into her eyes, so innocent and trusting. “Let’s try and stay together, okay?”

  She nodded. We walked into the bathroom together so she could get ready for bed. As she was changing clothes, I looked through the drawers, snooping. I found the toothbrushes Debbie mentioned and toothpaste. I went to another drawer and found scissors and a mini sewing kit. There were also a few hair ties and some condoms. I froze, bile coming up in my throat. I was immediately disgusted by these pedophiles that bought young girls or boys for sex and with the Triads for running this duplicitous and depraved organization. I couldn’t imagine the horrific abuse the sleeping girl must be enduring. I shook my head, trying not to think about that right now.

  Betty Lou handed me her clothes. “Isabel Grace, these jammies feel so soft and warm.” She was smiling and rubbing her arms, feeling the fabric. “They’re silky on the outside but fuzzy on the inside. I love them.”

  I tried my best to look happy for her, knowing I wouldn’t be able to protect her. I knelt down and hugged her. “They look very smart on you, sweet girl. You’ll have a cozy sleep tonight.”

  “Do you really think so?” she asked, her eyes searching mine. “I’m afraid someone will come in and take me again.”

  My heart sank to my stomach, the threat of tears pricking my eyes. I pushed it all aside, willing myself to be strong. What could I say to that? It could happen and if it did how would I stop it?

  “How about this,” I began. “I won’t go to sleep and I’ll keep watch for both of us tonight. That way, if anyone comes in, I’ll fight them off.” I paused, swallowing hard. “Does that work?”

  She nodded, trying to smile. I didn’t think she was convinced I could fight anyone off but she didn’t want to say anything to the contrary.

  “Remember,” I added, “I need your help too… keep praying. Your prayers will help me… will help us.”

  I handed her a toothbrush and the toothpaste so she could brush her teeth. As she turned on the water, I heard some noises coming from the bedroom. It must be Debbie leaving us the milk and cookies. I had forgotten about that. I shut the water off to ask Betty if she wanted the snack Debbie promised. She beamed with excitement and nodded an enthusiastic yes. I chuckled softly as we headed to the door.

  We walked out of the bathroom and saw Gator Leg standing next to an empty bed. The light from the bathroom hit his face, exhibiting the most lascivious glare at us. His eyes flickered from me to Betty Lou. And in that instant, I knew what he was here for and it was not for me. Oh shit! Heaven help me! I couldn’t let this happen! I eyed him up and down. He didn’t appear to have a gun on him.

  I shoved Betty back into the bathroom and yell for her to lock the door. Gator Leg was already at the bathroom door and hit it open, knocking Betty to the floor. I grabbed him by the back of his hair, trying to get him away from her but he hit me in the face with the back of his hand, knocking me to the ground, disorienting me for a moment. I got up, trying to get my bearings. He had her pinned on the bathroom floor, tearing her pajama bottoms and panties off.

  “No!” I shrieked.

  Betty was screaming for help, calling my name. That fucking Gator Leg, Frank, was sitting on her, trying to keep her from getting away while he undid his pants. I was pulling my hair by the roots, looking around frantically for a weapon. The scissors! Insight hit me as I recalled seeing a pair of scissors in the bathroom drawer. I ran to the drawer, fished them out and without thinking, I stabbed Gator Leg in the neck. He took ahold of one of my arms, allowing Betty Lou to wiggle out from under him. I pulled the scissors out and stabbed him again, this time in the throat. He made a guttural sound and stared into my eyes. I took the scissors out one more time and stabbed him in the throat again, twisting the scissors in his throat this time. Blood was everywhere and I felt the urge to vomit. He let go of my arm and fell to the floor with the scissors still in his throat. He hit the floor with a thud, his eyes still staring at me. Blood was everywhere. I looked down at my hands. I had blood on them and my shirt. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. I couldn’t believe I killed another man without thinking twice. Don’t go into shock, Isabel Grace, I told myself. I leaned over him to check his pulse and noticed my gun was peeking out of one of his pockets. I quickly got it out, wrapped it in a towel and placed it under the sink closest to me.

  Betty Lou was in a far corner of the bathroom, whimpering and crouched down in a ball. I got to her and knelt beside her, gazing at her all over, making sure she was okay.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she whispered with a quivering voice.

  “Did he…” I couldn’t find the words, my face contorting at the memory of him on top of Betty.

  “No,” she answered, “he didn’t rape me. You stopped him before he could.” She hugged my neck tight, her little body shaking and trembling.

  I stood her up and we turned to head out but stopped in our tracks. Debbie and Victor Chang were at the entrance of the bathroom, staring at us and the dead man on the floor. I knew it. I knew the defendant Jill was prosecuting wasn’t just another child sex offender. I knew he had to be involved in this somehow. I was right. Here he was… Debbie’s boss… the head of the Chinese Triads for the greater Chicago area. He was not very tall but not short like Gator Leg either, more average height I would say. He had straight, dark hair that was severely parted to one side and very round glasses that accentuated his Asian eyes. He was a slender man with a very round face. He looked to be in his fifties. Maybe? To look at him, one would never guess he was a ruthless sex trafficker. He was wearing a polo with khakis and looked like anyone’s next-door neighbor… or perhaps an engineer. He was the epitome of the old adage, “never judge a book by its cover.”

  He continued to glare at me, his expression unreadable. Debbie looked like she was going into shock. Seriously! She worked for one of the most horrific organizations in the world and this was a shock to her? The silence was deafening. I needed to say something so Betty Lou and I didn’t get separated. I needed to spin this somehow.

  “Mr. Chang.” I took a deep breath
. “This man, whom you employed, has been stealing from you.”

  He stared at me quizzically, his eyes darted between the dead man on the floor and me.

  “What I mean to say is, these girls are your property, they belong to you and therefore you decide what happens to them and for how much. You set the price. Well, it seems to me that Ga… um, Frank has been ignoring all of that and taking liberties with your property. He has probably been raping most, if not all, the girls that come through here without your knowledge and without paying you for their services. That’s stealing, in my opinion,” I declared. “This man worked for you, not the other way around. He knew better than to cheat you, yet he ignored that and did it anyway. I suppose he didn’t respect you enough to not steal,” I emphasized the word steal. “Furthermore, from what I saw, I suspect he’d been beating or inflicting some sort of injuries on these girls, your property, hence forcing Debbie to take them to a hospital to get treated, further exposing you. It can leave you vulnerable to exposure, raising suspicions at the hospital.” He stayed quiet, eyeing me. My heart was racing. I was praying that what I said resonated enough for him not to kill me.

  “She’s right, Mr. Chang,” a small voice from behind them piped up. “Frank raped me when I first got here and Miss Debbie had to take me to the ER for medicines because he gave me an STD. That’s why I couldn’t work right away.” Debbie turned her head to look at the girl talking. Chang moved his head infinitesimally toward Debbie, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, menacing authority emanating from his person.

  “I didn’t want to bother you, Boss, with such petty things so I took care of it,” Debbie said.