A Legal Trap - Chapter 3

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The author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

Last Updated: 2/9/2024 to smooth out portions of the story.

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March 9th, 6:18 p.m.
We arrived late to Carson's for dinner. It was a mixed bag of emotions for me as we walked to their front door because I hated being late for anything and I really didn’t want to be here, at least not yet. I was ‘time’ anal and never arrived at a set appointment any later than ten minutes before it started. Being late by nearly twenty minutes made me anxious and made me feel like any fidgeting I did was hyper-pronounced.

I needed another Xanax; the one from this morning had long worn off and I was annoyed at Paul because he didn't seem to care about being late! That annoyed me beyond words. He was getting pretty good at reading my mind, having done that twice so far, why hadn't he picked up on how being late pissed me off? Grrr!!!

My mind right now was still in investigation mode and I didn’t want to be here and use brain cycles for needless chit-chat that would offer clues as to where Amber was. I’d much rather being back at the hotel where we left so many leads unchecked. That gnawed at me and made me hyperaware that my attitude could certainly be better right now. Could everyone see I was conflicted and wanted to be anywhere but here?

After entering the Carson's beautiful home, the obvious protocol was for introductions. I was dreading this since learning we were coming here this evening. Paul shook Jacob's hand, then Amber's dad's hand—Gary, and then her mother's—Stephanie. I went through the same greeting line, apologizing each time for being late. Yeah, I’m that anal! Give it a rest damn it!

Did I sound lame, neurotic, nervous, or whatever giving that apology? I hoped people didn’t judge me as odd and my being here would go mostly unnoticed. Breathe…

We were ushered without further ceremony to the formal dining room. There were just five place settings, which meant the other two Carson children would not be joining us for dinner. Drinks were offered and delivered quickly by what I assumed was a live-in butler or chef.

I downed my glass of water within the first couple minutes and wished I had asked for two glasses or the guy had left the water pitcher on the table instead of taking it back to the kitchen. Everyone else was either drinking wine or beer – yup, I’m the odd woman out! The five of us spaced oddly around the large table didn’t provide me with enough distance to make me stop being self-conscious about every move I made, every mannerism, or simply blinking.

Thankfully Paul wasted no time in launching into what we'd found without being prompted. That was a huge relief, because I did not want to talk details. I sat back and focused on not making eye contact with Amber's parents or Jacob, for that matter.

On our way over, Paul and I discussed Amber's activities thus far. What he considered 'dark' were her webcam broadcasts from her room, videos of her with all manner of toys—masturbating, posing, lingerie, or whatever. He had that same opinion about her many suggestive pictures.

I wouldn’t have classified any of that as 'dark'. That stuff was certainly 'gray' area worthy and barely approached the scale of being 'dark' content. In contrast, the looping Tumblr graphic image of her being taken from behind – that was absolutely 'dark'. You’ll learn Mr. Kline and you’ll see the real hell, to the real 'dark' soon enough!

Until we stumbled onto that Tumblr graphic, I thought Amber might be skirting the edge of 'dark' content posting. I thought she was all about ‘teasing’ to the edge of that chasm, playing for attention, and not really willing to cross that line. I of course was wrong.

The only bright spot in finding that Tumblr posting was it had been posted on Monday. It was impossible to know when the actual graphic had been captured or who had posted it, but it could mean she was still alive. Assuming Amber had posted it didn't make that discovery any better or worse in the scope of things. Guess we needed to hold onto her still being out there, which was encouraging, but we didn't have solid proof yet.

Paul explained to the Carson’s what new leads we'd found. He outlined our summation of her activities online, careful to keep it generic, but I could sense they knew it was worse than what he was disclosing. Jacob chimed in to say the police hadn't been given access to these new accounts we had access to and wouldn’t until he’d talked to his FBI contact.

Paul explained that the blank appearing Word document we found had broken it all open for us. It contained credentials to three different email accounts, an Amazon wish list, and two different porn sites. The good news was nothing we found on those porn sites yet contained anything she was featured in. Then he detailed the money side of her activities—the PayPal and Patreon accounts.

He mentioned that it was my persistence that got us this far and I cringed, thinking I could have done without the attention. I got a tiny nod from Jacob and Gary, but a blank stare from Stephanie who appeared to be trying to burn my skin off with her glare. On the plus side, there was evident relief on behalf of Carson's regarding the Tumblr post timing. I think if they knew what the post was, it would certainly be relief smeared with horror and disappointment in their daughter.

Questions flew quickly from Stephanie about the Tumblr post and Paul answered each one patiently, with real class and compassion. I was impressed and grateful I wasn't on the spot for answering. The questions ranged from: Where is she? Did she look alright?
It was heartbreaking to hear their anguish. At one point Jacob interjected, turning the tide back to our investigation and instructing Paul to keep this information close, meaning no one was to share it with the police, until we'd had a little more time to comb through it and possibly the FBI got involved.

Then Jacob described his meeting with the local FBI director. He said it was productive, and by early next week there would be a resource for us to use. There were a few things the director was going to look into and get back to Jacob on with whatever information Paul had already supplied them. That got approving nods around the table, but it felt like the Carson’s already knew everything Jacob was saying.

I wanted to blurt out questions but held my tongue. I felt like I was on the outside looking in still and not yet accepted in this group of searcher. It was hard to justify my value to these people, since I had been Amber four years ago and that made me possibly the opposite of someone they’d expect to be value added to the investigation. I certainly didn’t want to talk about my past with them, but sensed they had suspicions.

Paul continued describing Amber's activities, going over browser history; while it had been deleted, he was able to pull up a list of sites she visited regardless. How? I wish I knew, because I'd like to destroy that kind of shit on my own personal computer and Android tablet, though on my tablet I was using an app to mask my browsing via a proxy server. That could probably be figured out by someone as skilled as Paul.

Eventually Paul dove into the last two accounts we found and their significance, which was that they were being used to manage subscription content Amber was providing to people. We had plenty to comb through just in terms of the subscription content and subscribers, and he left it with we would be working around the clock to come up with solid answers.

I hoped it was a figure of speech; I felt spent from a day that seemed twenty hours long already. When he mentioned that the amount of money in the accounts totaled nearly twenty thousand dollars, Carson's gasped. Yeah, people paid to see this shit – welcome to hell…

March 9th, 7:51 p.m.
Stephanie had excused herself from finishing eating with us. Gary apologized after she had left, but it wasn't like we didn't get it. The conversation over dinner was limited to a few discoveries Paul went into further detail about, but mostly the men talked about the Mariner's upcoming season. Jacob was a season ticket holder, and Gary must have followed them, and whatever the Arizona team was—the Diamondbacks?

I had picked at my plate the entire time—not that the food didn't smell amazing—I just didn't have an appetite. I forced myself to finish my salad and two more glasses of water, which prompted a request for a bathroom. It was a relief to get away from the table, but upon returning, the vibe was very different. The table had been cleared, and dessert was being placed before everyone—some kind of pie. I would have to press Paul as to what I had missed.

When I made no move to touch the dessert, Gary asked if I wanted to see Amber's room. Paul had already been through the room, so there was no reason to duplicate efforts, but I felt obligated to agree since Jacob was there and maybe it was expected my ‘Tran-radar’ would pick up something everyone had missed. I had to give the appearance of participating, even though I knew this was going to be hard for the Carson's.

I followed Gary to Amber's room; it was on the first floor and, at some point, had probably been a large bonus room converted into a bedroom. Gary wasn't cold, but he was a little standoffish. I couldn't put a finger on it, but then again I didn’t have a missing child who was wrapped up in the seedy underbelly that is porn.

"Feel free to look around," he said, walking to a large walk-in closet, opening the door, flipping the light on, and staring into the closet. "The police and Paul have been through everything. If you could just put things back where you found them, that would be,” he turned to face me, "My wife and I really do appreciate you helping us in finding Amber."

He walked head-down out of the room without saying another word.

Augh... A lump was now solidly in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I felt tears welling and stood up straighter—I can't go there! What do I know? What's in this room? What were you thinking, Amber?

I surveyed the room, and everything you'd expect was there in a teenage girl’s room. There were pink pillows and a light green comforter on a double bed, stuffed animals, and a poster of a boy band and one of Bruno Mars. A clock radio—one I was already familiar with—in fact, this corner of the room looked exactly like the picture from her tattoo selfie. That meant, I turned to see a freestanding mirror behind me and I stood where she must have stood to take that picture—yup, I've seen this view before.

A first-floor bedroom meant she could escape through the window easy enough or someone could have maybe abducted her. I pulled the curtain aside and looked out into the darkened back yard. It would be a short skip around the side of the house; the driveway would be right there, and she'd be in the street out front in less than twenty seconds. Did Carson's have a security system with cameras? Did their neighbors? I'm sure those things were covered by the police canvassing the neighborhood. We would have been told about that if they had found anything significant I assumed.

I walked to her desk, pulled the chair back, and sat down. There was a mirror on the wall, makeup, brushes, a hairdryer, a curling iron—everything she would need to get ready daily. Wherever she was, she would need all this stuff; she had to replace it. Question: Did she have a bank account? Access to credit cards? I looked behind me to her closet; it was packed with clothes, shoes, coats, and other items. She would need clothing also; what's the cost to be whole in regards to the wardrobe? What about her prescriptions? Were they missing?

I got up and wandered into her closet, thumbing through various blouses, skirts, and dresses. I was jealous and envious. I had less than a third of the outfits she had—fuck! She had at least forty pairs of shoes—heels, flats, Ugg boots in three colors, riding boots, cowgirl boots—and I began to fume. Seriously! Three pairs of Ugg's! Focus...

There was a chest of drawers in the closet, and I pulled out the top drawer, socks. I felt around to see if there was something hidden, nope. The second drawer contained her lingerie. There was expensive shit mixed in with cheap Victoria Secrets stuff. What was striking was that there weren't just ten or fifteen pairs of panties, there were over thirty.

Was all this a result of her Amazon wish list stuff? Were fans sending her things somehow? Did she sell these after wearing them? Did stuff get delivered here if she ordered stuff? The last couple of drawers contained leggings, stretch pants, sweats, PJ's, three garter belts, hose, and four bustiers. I shook my head—what the fuck!

This kid had ever had an opportunity given to her on a silver fucking platter, and she walked out on it? What the hell am I missing here? I sensed movement behind me and spun around, startled.

"Oh, Mrs. Carson, I was just looking to... I mean to see if I could," I was struggling to speak so stopped and just stared at her.

"We removed some of the items you might be looking for," she replied just above a whisper.

"Ah, no... That really isn't what I was... No," I looked to my right and flipped the light switch off, exited the closet, and shut the door.

Oh my God! Awkward! I wasn't trying to find her collection of dildos or vibrators! But she just admitted they had removed them. Did that mean the police—maybe even Paul—had seen them? Or not? I certainly didn't need to see that shit!

"Jacob told us that you are a transgendered woman," she was still speaking at just above a whisper, and with the thumping of my heart in my ears I almost missed her asking, "Why?"

Oh God, ‘Why?’ Why what? Why am I Trans? Why did Amber leave? Why had she done some of the things she had? How was I supposed to answer that?

"I think I'm as baffled as you, Mrs. Carson. By all appearances, Amber had everything, and... I mean, I just don't get it, not yet at least." I tried to sound hopeful, but I could sense that my voice didn't match that intended sentiment.

"Jacob said you've had similar experiences."

Okay, what the fuck! I tried to control shock at hearing people knew about my past, but I could feel my face flushing. I was going to kill Paul! I quickly regained my composure by breathing slowly, focusing... The best interview technique I have found is to reverse the rolls: be interviewed, but be the question asker, not the question answerer.

"I've had some rough times. Is there any reason you can think of that would make Amber just disappear?"

"No... She was happy we thought. School was good; she got excellent grades."

"Did she have many friends?" I knew the answer already given her Facebook account.

"No, but it didn't seem to bother her. We talked plenty of times about it, about becoming involved with support groups for those who are transgendered." She turned and pulled the desk chair out and sat before continuing, "Her psychiatrist was happy with her progress. Amber was right in line with where she thought she should be."

I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but I had to rein in my need to blurt them out in a verbal stream of diarrhea.

"When did she start hormones, I mean HRT? Were there any complications?"

"Just after her sixteenth birthday, we were told the dosing would be moderate at first, but she did so well that that gate was crossed after the second month. Dosing was increased to what we were told were standard levels according to her doctor, since she hadn’t had any adverse effects. The testosterone blockers were probably tough at first, but she was fine with the dosing after a month." She sat back in the chair, crossing her legs casually, "When did you start your transition?"

No, no, no... I'm asking the questions, I’m not some freak show exhibit for you to try and understand.

"A year and a half ago,” I offered to not be rude, but powered on. “So she had no close friends? No one knew what she was doing in regards to her internet."

"No, not really... Gary and I had no idea what she was up too. I blame myself; I doted over her." She fell silent for a second, "I loved all my sons equally, but I really did love having a daughter."

Question answered: Amber was one of three boys.

"I know most parents would give their all to making their children's lives all they want them to be, Mrs. Carson. I'm sure no one blames…” Shit, that wasn't what I wanted to say and recovered quickly with, “Thinks you or Mr. Carson brought this about?"

Fuck! I probably just stepped into it big time!

"Thank you... We just want her home. We will be there for her, to help her through all of this."

"I'm sure she knows you both are there for her."

"I just need to understand this—what she's going through, how I can fix it," she huffed the last couple words as if she had been defeated. "How did you make it through all this, this, and this nightmare?"

Oh shit... I didn’t want to talk about this! We should be focusing on Amber, not me. I tried to think of a way around talking about myself and settled on trying to keep it generic.

"To be honest, Mrs. Carson, I just did. I made plenty of poor choices, but I learned that those choices weren't making me the real and authentic woman I wanted to be. It was hard, and I didn't have the support of a loving family to have my back. My mom did what she could without screwing up the orbit she has with my dad, but in the end, I had to hit rock bottom before I could stand on my own."

And I stopped talking as if the off button on my brain had been clicked. It was also more than I had expected to say, and I was surprised at how effortlessly that flowed out of my mouth. The silence dragged on longer than I was comfortable and I said, "Paul mentioned to you that she got a tattoo; is there anything else she wanted that maybe you and Mr. Carson were opposed too?"

Amber had nearly twenty thousand dollars in ill-gotten subscription money; there was no way she wasn't spending it on stuff or saving up for something. Hello, her damn shoe collection! How hadn’t they noticed all the damn shoes?!

Stephanie seemed to be measuring her answer and offered, "She wanted gauges for her ears. We said no, but offered the compromise of the nose and belly button piercings. Amber is very self-conscious about her appearance, always thinking she didn’t look female enough. She accessorized to heighten her feminine appearance. Glasses, jewelry, you know."

Are you fucking kidding me?! Seriously, put her and me in a line-up and ask people to pick the freak out and every time they’d pick me. Give me a break! I shrugged.

"I sense she got a lot of encouragement from you, Mrs. Carson; was it the same from Mr. Carson? Her brothers?"

She looked to be thinking again about how to answer that.

"Her brothers teased her certainly at first. It was mean-spirited stuff, but we nipped that in the bud pretty quick. They've come to accept her choice I'm pretty sure. Amber is the oldest; Chase and Donald are fifteen and almost fourteen, respectively. She used to beat their asses, but that's changed—she puts up with their rough edges, but I don't sense there's much conflict amongst them.

“I don't know if Gary will ever fully understand Amber's need to be her true self, but he has supported every want and need she's come to us with. Secretly, I think he likes having a daughter, but you would have to ask him. There are a lot more resources these days to help families, so we've been lucky, I think."

Yeah! Perfect family dynamic... STOP! Be happy for the kid not getting a shit upbringing like mine. I tried to get back on course, focus on what I wanted to know.

"Anything else she mentioned wanting?" I wasn't trying to repeat myself to force an answer out of her, but I sensed there was more. I wished she would open up a little more. "Paul mentioned that he told you both that there was a lot of SRS stuff she was researching—any push by her to get that done?"

We briefly discussed the whole gender vs. sex vs. whatever the hell number of pansexual, poly, dysphoria inducing classifications there were. She seemed to get it.

"I'm pretty sure she had an interest in boys. We were shopping once, and she totally went numb, dumbfounded, seeing a boy from school in the mall." She looked like she was thinking again, and then she looked a little more relaxed. "We talked about SRS a lot, in fact. Gary and I told her we would support her decision to take that final step, but she had to go through all the pre-process steps first. So, I don't think that's what she was collecting money for."

Her guard looked to be creeping back into place after thinking a little more.

"We were against her getting implants... There were more than a few heated arguments on that subject. Our stance was to wait, see how HRT went, and after SRS, if that was something she wanted, she could save up for it on her own."

"She's had a trachea shave? Any Facial Feminization Surgery?"

"Yes, the trachea surgery this past summer. No, to FFS, I don't think she thinks that's necessary yet, which is odd because she sometimes doesn’t think she looks like a young woman. I told her hundreds of times that her HRT results were absolutely amazing, especially those changes this past year. Her doctors have all said that starting when she was younger typically makes the biggest difference."

Seriously, try starting that shit when you're twenty-one!

We talked for another twenty minutes. I found out a few other things about Amber, like she did have a passport, that she was bullied at school, and that she had left all her medications behind. That last one was curious—we'd have to look into refills on those and whether they had been filled recently, like in the last couple days. Finally, she insisted on me calling Stephanie and gave me her cell number.

The number came with a couple of hooks—like she wanted to know everything when I knew it, no matter the time of day. She also didn’t want what we found to make it back to the firm—she specifically named Janet and her not needing to know her family’s business. That was going to put me in a very uncomfortable position. I tried to explain that Janet was fully backing the firm helping to investigate and find Amber.

Her reply to that, "Don't trust everything she tells you."

I wanted to get her to expand on that, but Paul appeared at the door with Jacob and we fell silent.

"Are you about done here?" he asked me.

I looked toward them as Stephanie spoke for us, "Yes, I think Elizabeth has what she needs."

She stood, and we shook hands, which felt like a reversal of the last twenty minutes we’d been talking. Something is off here; I just couldn’t put a finger on what exactly.

"Yes, thank you, Stephanie... We will be in touch when we learn anything of significance, I promise," I said, making my way towards the bedroom door.

March 9th, 10:19 p.m.
We had pulled into the hotel parking lot after the short drive from Carson's'. Our conversation had been about the strange pow-wow Jacob had with us as he walked us to the car. In short, he echoed what Stephanie had told me: nothing was to get back to the firm; he would handle that exchange of information.

That, of course, left me with the problem of dealing with Janet. She was expecting me to report in today at some point; how the hell was I going to do that?

I still had an axe to grind with Paul for telling the Carson’s I had a history similar to what Amber was involved in. He needed to know that it put me in a weird space, and with all I had to deal with already with this investigation it made operating here harder for me. I just needed the right moment to give him both barrels.

Parked, engine off, I watched Paul open his door and get out. I did the same, and after closing my door, he was looking at me over the roof of the Camry like he wanted to ask me something.

"You want to get a drink?" he asked.

I was no stranger to drinking. In the past, it usually turned into something I would end up regretting later. That’s because whichever guy I was with at the time just wanted me more ‘pliable’ so his fetish kink laid on me was easier to achieve. It always helped these guys when I was drunk or drugged, for that matter; I had less fight in me for the shit these guys wanted to do to me.

While I didn’t think Paul had that kind of motivation in mind, drinking these days could be a trigger for me, and I needed to keep that in mind. Self-control would be a must! I wasn’t that woman anymore, and I refused to revisit the hell I’d escaped. Paul was certainly an interesting guy, and standing here and looking at him, I tried to figure out if his letting Carson's know about my past was intentional. Why would you do that? My past wasn’t exactly relevant, though similar to Amber’s actions of late. Are you gaming me Mr. Kline?

"Sure, I’m game. I’ve got some questions for you, though," I replied.

"I’ve hopefully got answers. The bar is open until midnight, or we could go back to my room, do some more investigating, and look at some of her other accounts."

What could possibly go wrong in his room, with some liquor in us both and some transgender porn in the background? Yeah, hard ‘no’, though the idea was at least a little tempting.

"I'd be up for one in the bar."

"Good. I wanted to hear what Stephanie had to say about Amber. I'm guessing you got an earful."

"I don't know that I've got some inside track to anything worthwhile, but we can discuss that."

"I was hoping you could crack her shell a little. I'll share what I got from Gary."

March 9th, 10:26 p.m.
We had ordered our drinks from the bartender; he was the only one working, which meant either this wasn't a hopping place to hang out or the hotel wasn't booked up, or maybe both were true. There were two couples in the place, one in a booth and another at a small table. At one of the two longer tables were three businessmen talking way too loudly about nothing, but they were filling the upper levels of the noise being made by bad music playing from some lost elevator Muzak tracks.

We ended up grabbing the booth furthest from everyone and the actual bar.

"Cheers! To teamwork," Paul raised his beer mug to my rock-glass of rum and Coke.

I sipped it, and it was ninety percent cheap crap rum with a splash of Coca-Cola for color. I cringed at the taste.

"Too strong?"

I smiled and said, "Not my brand of rum."

"Really, you're a rum aficionado?"

"Let's just say I know my way around a decent bottle of rum." I grinned an evil smirk.

Lisa wasn't going to believe I was in a bar with a guy when I told her about being down here. My grin turned to a satisfied smile, thinking I might actually have something to finally brag about.

"I miss something?"

"No, I'm just happy this day is over,” I said in preparation for letting him know I wasn’t happy by jamming both barrels in his face. “So, care to tell me how Jacob and the Caron’s know about my past being similar to what Amber’s been up to lately?"

It took a lot to get that out, and I could feel the anxious energy tingling in me. Don’t even think about lying to me…

He didn’t look surprised by the question and answered casually, “Jacob told me, which was a bit of a surprise. I assume he told Carson's.”

“So, you didn’t dig into my past?” I asked.

“No, but after Jacob mentioned it, he wanted to know to what extent you had been involved in that world. I wouldn’t have looked on my own; there was no need to.”

I bristled, but that explained Janet saying this assignment could pick at old wounds for me. I wondered if she had had me checked out before being hired, and if so, why? I hadn’t really thought much about her talk with me in the conference room yesterday after Jacob and Martin had left. Was this why they, the partners, wanted me to assist? Something isn’t right.

I wasn’t sure I believed Paul wouldn’t have checked me out, though, even without the request from Jacob. He lived for this crap it seemed like. All those bits and bytes to be explored and the chance to do his computer sleuthing crap. I was going to cautiously take him at his word.

“Okay, and now that you’ve seen who I used to be, does that give you pause?” I asked nervously.

“Sitting before me, I don’t see the same woman. Look, we all make mistakes, and that Jersey Shore guy said something about making the comeback greater than the setback. It looks like you’ve done that.”

“That sounds like a compliment,” I stated.

“It was meant to be,” he said, taking a pull from his beer.

I wondered if he was just being polite or if he really thought that. Eh, no sense in dwelling on it. I needed to trust him in this process of finding Amber, but I’d still be guarded.

“So, it is over then, right?” I asked.

Paul laughed. "The work day? Yeah, I think we can pack it in for the night. Though I am going to look at a few things, I promise I'll be in bed by," he said, looking at his phone. "Midnight maybe…"

I could see the clock over the bar; it was 10:31. I guess this was just going to be one drink and done. Good, no need to worry about it going in other directions. This is nice though; he’s being friendly and complimentary, and I’m not in my room alone. Lisa would be impressed.

I smiled and said, "Okay, I'm going to hold you to midnight. I'd like to be out long before that."

I felt self-conscious about saying that, hoping he didn't take it the wrong way. I mean, I would sit here longer if he wanted, but my ass was dragging.

"I hear you... Jacob and I met for breakfast at 6:00 AM, so I'm tired for sure." He sipped his beer and looked toward the long table of businessmen laughing loudly about something. "Easy boys," he said, smiling.

Yup, this was nice. Paul seemed to have a relaxed way about him; he was cute; his looks were growing on me, and he did have that nice ass. I thought about Lisa complaining that I hadn’t tried to make a move on him. Oh boy, was she going to stick it to me for not being more aggressive.

We finished our drinks while discussing Jacob and the firm. Paul didn't really have anything to offer up with this new 'secret' mode we were supposed to operate under regarding information getting back to the firm. When he finished his beer he asked if I wanted another drink; mine was half drunk due to the over pour of rotgut rum and splash of Coke. I declined. He took that well and as quickly as we entered the bar, we were exiting.

March 9th, 11:05 PM
Paul walked me back to my room, very gentlemanly like. The exchange at my door wasn't too awkward—until he caught my closing door and said he was in room 210, which must be on the other side of this complex, as I was in room 98. I thanked him again for the drink, and he apologized for us being late to Carson's before wishing me a ‘Good-night’.

It would be a lie to say those moments in the bar didn't make me feel more alive than I had been in years – even though I thought he’d thrown me under the bus with Jacob and the Carson’s in regards to my past. I wished it could have lasted a little longer and hoped there might be a next time we could hang out and not have that focus be the investigation. I wouldn’t mind learning a little bit more about him.

Oh! And what is with him being in my head again?! He knew I wasn't happy about being late. I had to wonder if I was really that easy to read. Guess I’d have to think on how our minds could do that intersecting thing on occasion.

Right now though, I needed to figure out what to say to Janet Larson without sounding like I was withholding information. Crap!

::: --- :::

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Bronwen Welsh in proofreading and giving me insightful advice. She is an accomplished author in her own right and I appreciate her time more than I can say...

Don't be afraid to click the "Thumbs Up" icon for this short story if it's done anything for you (you don't have to have an account to do so, and there are no prizes for most likes or payouts for that matter (I’d have bot’ed that bitch long ago if there was)). If you comment, I will reply, so let’s chat or not or whatever floats your noddle.

If there are problems or you have criticisms you'd like to share privately, feel free to message me on the site (you’ll need an account) or via email ([email protected](link sends e-mail) (link sends e-mail)) - I'd love to address them if I can.

I'm trying to grow as a storyteller; I'm far from perfect, so any help is much appreciated and valued. Thanks for reading...

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Comments

As I said

Monique S's picture

the family gets more and more suspicious. Why did she have no friends and why did she have such an inferiority complex as to her looks? Something is missing.

Her mum might actually be genuine, but her father? And her uncle? Not to talk of the brothers.

Monique S

Something suspicious...

RachelMnM's picture

Is going on here... Nothing adds up to what we'd consider normal given the apparent normalcy of the family.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Very nice

sugar_britches63's picture

Very nice continuation of an intriguing story line. Nice plot twist putting Elizabeth between rock and a hard place with her boss Janet and the client.

opinor ergo sum

Charlotte Van Goethem

Thank you...

RachelMnM's picture

Lot of bread crumbs out there... Things could get moving quick in the next couple chapters...

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

anxiety issues

poor girl, she's really struggling here. I'm starting to think her bosses should have thought twice before asking someone this fragile to do this ...

DogSig.png

Agree...

RachelMnM's picture

Elizabeth probably didn't consider the risks to her emotionally... I have to agree - maybe her bosses were out of line. Then again - she was a valued employee thus far and wouldn't it be OK to ask her to assist?

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Interesting dynamic

So you have a family where they financially support their daughter, buy her all this stuff, her brothers still pick on her (just not as badly), and the mother still considers her one of their sons. I’m starting to understand where some of the anguish is coming from. In some respects it’s almost worse than outright rejection, because it still feels like rejection, but if you try to talk to anyone about it they will only see the support and consider you to be ungrateful and selfish. Of course, it is also better than outright rejection in the respect that you have somewhere to live.

Agreed...

RachelMnM's picture

Family support certainly can make one's journey easier and it's not all about money.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Take one teen,

Podracer's picture

insecure and craving validation, add secretive internet. Just asking for a predator of some kind to stoop on her. And those parents know something that they aren't telling.

"Reach for the sun."

Maybe...

RachelMnM's picture

And maybe they have blinders on? Maybe they don't want to put their foot down and parent for fear of pushing her away? And the predator slant - plenty of those out there preying on the vulnerable.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Going with the flow

just reading an enjoying the stoy

Flow is good...

RachelMnM's picture

:-) Thank You for the sticking with it... :-)

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Keep it coming.

Have I ever said that before cuz it feels like I have? Anyway, great writing, plenty of intrigue and it's a grown up story with the right balance. Thanks...........

Cindy.

Cindy Jenkins

It's coming...

RachelMnM's picture

Next chapter to drop Tuesday... Some tension brewing...

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Doesn't look good.

In certain circles, pre-op transgender folk that are dressing are extremely desirable. They can easily be kidnapped and trafficked. Once they have you, you will likely not survive. Personal experience. I got a talking to by a man who I suspect was FBI, or Vice Squad.

I spent $12,500 on SRS in Thailand, and that included raising my upper lip. My opinion of Doctors is very low. A surgeon is a smart seamstress with some knowledge of Anatomy and Physiology. The Doc did my surgery, and then I found out before I left that I could have had it in the super clinic in his office and saved half. The downside is that I brought home resistant e-coli and it was very difficult to cure. It took a PIC line for a month.

She may already be dead.

Trafficking...

RachelMnM's picture

Could certainly be a possible direction Amber gets in trouble with... No shortage of kids abducted on a daily basis. Don't rule out the investigative powers of our two main characters.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Intriguing

joannebarbarella's picture

The dynamic between Elizabeth's situation and Amber's apparently much more cosseted transition is gradually coming into focus and is not as forthright as might be expected. There are many differences to be explored.

Mmm...

RachelMnM's picture

Let's explore! :-) Thank You for following. Always smile when I read your comments.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

I love the way this is

I love the way this is turning out. The weaving of sexual attraction between Elizabeth and Paul during the investigation is great.
Now, where did Amber go?

I wish...

RachelMnM's picture

I could knit! Amber is out there... They are getting closer to finding her.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

Secrets and more secrets

Jamie Lee's picture

Why was Elizabeth told not to tell Janet anything? Is Janet up to something which isn't in the best interest of the firm? Or Amber's family.

And speaking of that family, why the feeling they're hiding more than they're telling? Stephanie gave lip service but she isn't telling all. They even cleaned out a chest of drawers. Could they have had someone sterilize Amber's FB page?

Paul and Elizabeth are finding a lot that doesn't add up. More money than she should have had, since her parents were buying her practically everything she wanted. What was that girl into?

And another girl has some real problems she needs help with. Depending on Xanax is a bad deal, it makes one dependent on it's calming ability instead of giving self control.

Others have feelings too.

Secrets...

RachelMnM's picture

There are plenty of things going on here... How do the pieces fit together?

As for Xanax - I have used this drug for a very long time to control debilitating panic / anxiety attacks - certainly could be over used / prescribed, but the bottom line for those suffering - this stuff works. I am not advocating everyone run out and hit up your local drug dealer (or doctor - one in the same?), but this drug does serve a purpose. BTW - I practice all sorts of other strategies to curb the use, including meditation, breathing, mind games, etc... Others have feelings too...

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...