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

Last Updated: 2/16/2024 to smooth out portions of the story.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

March 12th, 5:38 PM
I looked at him, the shock on my face evident, “You know about Janet and Martin trying to take the firm over?”

“Augh... Not really supposed to be talking about this Liz,” he replied uncomfortably.

I didn’t generally like being called Liz, but Paul saying it felt oddly good. This was the second time he had done that, I think I like it. I kicked him under the table playfully.

“What the hell! What’s going on here? You ‘do’ know!” I protested.

Now he looked very uncomfortable and his look matched the tone of his last statement.

“I’ve been working for Jacob for six months,” he paused to count them in his head, “No, seven. I started in August of last year.”

“And?”

My heart was racing a little, I wasn’t sure why, but there had been all those oddities in my conversations with Janet was this take-over the reason? I had no one to talk with about this stuff and hoped Paul would be able to help me clear those oddities up.

“Well, and… Hey, you have to realize I’m not supposed to talk about this with anyone. I work for Jacob, he pays me a crazy amount of money, and I really shouldn’t even have said anything.”

“Who am I going to tell?” I complained.

“I don’t think you would say anything to anyone Elizabeth, but if you slipped, that could alert people. You get it right? Shit, I shouldn't have let it get this far.”

He was back to calling me Elizabeth – was he freaking in my head again!?! HEY! I like it when you call me Liz! I shook my head at him.

“Look, this cat is out of the bag already. I'm not putting a wet cat back into a wet paper bag. How about if I share some oddities I’ve experienced with Janet since coming here?”

He looked interested and without waiting for an answer, I detailed everything Janet had said to me while being on this assignment to assist in finding Amber.

Paul listened patiently and then said, “They, Janet and Martin, have Bill Blass the IT director working for them. He’s been monitoring emails between Jacob and Gillian. Janet slipping and using David’s name isn’t a surprise really. More that she underestimated you.”

I knew Gillian, she was Jacobs personal secretary and the firm's office manager. She was all business, polite, and always seemed to know everything about anything that was going on with cases, people in the office, and everyday operations. I wasn't accustomed to being complimented, so I'm sure I was blushing, a little flush about having someone say they’d underestimated me.

People probably underestimated me all the time. I worked really hard to fly under the radar, to not be on anyone's radar. In truth, underestimating anyone was generally a bad practice.

“If you suspected they were monitoring Jacob, why have him put in details about Amber in emails? I assume Janet got David - Ambers’ ‘Daddy’ name, from one of their exchanges.”

“Can’t have their correspondence look different, would be a tell Jacob knows something is going on.”

My mind was spinning a couple different directions. How did Jacob even get wind of this I wondered?

“How…,” I began slowly.

“Did Jacob know something was up?” he finished my question for me.

“Do you have mind reading capabilities?” I asked frustrated.

“Huh? No, would have made my divorce easier and a lot of other stuff too.”

I smiled, but with a look of questioning whether he was being honest – which I knew he was, but God how does he do that and so often? He knows so much about me, could he have profiled me somehow? Learned my tells; that is a poker term right? I would have to give this a little more thought later - right now he was staring at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You can’t say anything to anyone about this Elizabeth… Not Lisa, not anyone.”

“I won’t… Wait, did you know about my email from Lisa before I mentioned it?”

“Yes, I have access to the firm’s network. Trick is to move around without being detected by Blass. I don’t think he suspects anything yet and why would he? I’m careful to only snoop during office hours when Janet and Martin are in and network traffic is heavy. Gillian lets me know via texts when they are in. I was looking at emails and saw hers to you. That tells us she’s overheard something. So, while Jacob’s been away there’s been some slippage of someone’s resolve to keep their plans moving forward only in the shadows.”

“Shouldn’t I reply to Lisa? I can help; maybe put something out there as a red herring or something?”

“Jacob and I talked about that, we were kind of waiting to see if you would reply and how you would – organically – not coached.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, why would you ask that?” he complained.

“Then tell Jacob I figured out you were working with for him or I mentioned Lisa’s email and I can help in some way. Come on! Do you want me sent back to Seattle?” I pleaded.

“No, but… Augh! Don’t look at me like that. Jacob might not want anyone else involved with this right now,” he said, taking a long pull from his beer after his whining about Jacob.

“OK, fine… Tell me how he found out that there was a mutiny.”

“Argh Matey… It is not like that Liz. It actually happened by accident. Jacob was talking to one of the candidates running for Seattle City Council in June last year - Gary Sang, he's one of the guys who lost his bid in November. Anyway, Sang mentioned that both Michelle and Angela…” I made a face like I didn’t know who he was talking about, “Angela, Janet’s partner and Michelle was Martin’s…”

I blurted out, “Oh, yeah, I know who you’re talking about, sorry…” I felt embarrassed, I knew who they were. Stupid! Pay attention!

“OK, so the partner and ex-spouse, not partners of the firm, made inordinately large contributions to two of the eventual winners of the city council races. State regulations state those donations have to be disclosed, but who really pays attention to that, right? Sang and Jacob go back a ways I guess and he wanted to know what was up with the firm supporting his opponent. It caught Jacob by surprise, so he decided to do some investigating. That’s where I came in – he asked me to see what I could find out without any of the players finding out.”

“Oh wow. To what end though does helping a couple council members getting elected,” I stopped mid-sentence. Oh crap! Port of Seattle Union contracts – grease the political skids – avoid city council issues by having two of the seven council members in your pocket and likely a couple or more sympathetic council members collecting campaign donations from the union. And there was the news the mayor wanted to squash the unions bargaining power. Yikes, this was crazy!

The Port of Seattle is the second largest port on the west coast - there were huge implications and of course money involved with the firms representation of them. It was more than just boats coming into Seattle - it was the airport also. The union was powerful and we represented them because of Jacob!

“I have a feeling you’ve seen the light,” he said smiling.

“That’s, that’s like corruption level shit,” I replied shocked.

“Says who?”

“I don’t know,” I stammered, “But if it ever got out or it even remotely looked that way there would be hell to pay, right?”

“Yeah… Pretty sure the liberal press in Seattle wouldn’t have trouble frying their own liberal leaning city council members or a corrupt law firm generating a lot of money representing the largest union in the state.”

“Okay, but why force Jacob out? Why not just buy him out or something?”

“Money, power, influence? Couldn’t really tell ya,” he said.

March 12th, 6:15 PM
We had just entered my room and Paul was opening up his laptop when his phone began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, checked the number and mouthed ‘Jacob’ before answering.

“Jacob… How we doing?” He put the phone on speaker, “You are on speaker, I’m here with Elizabeth. We took a break to get dinner and just got back. We were just about to check if our email got any traction with David Lafleur …”

“Oh…,” he sounded like he wasn’t expecting me to be on the call. “Hello Elizabeth… Paul, quickly – got word from Landon the RCMP in Vancouver is picking up Lafleur tonight. I believe they will be charging him initially with Sexual Misconduct with a Minor per British Columbia law. There may be other charges levied as well – it’s enough to hold him so he doesn’t pick up and run. The Phoenix DA will be initiating extradition papers Monday after they determine the charges he intends to file. Of course he needs to coordinate with the prosecutor in Santa Fe, who wants her pound of flesh from Mr. Lafleur. A lot of jurisdictional wrangling yet to come, Landon thinks the feds may want the case deferred to the Phoenix DA - though they have first chair rights.”

In school we'd spent nearly a month on jurisdictional law and the bottom line - the federal government got first crack at most cases they had an interest in - especially when there were international implications. I thought about saying something to that effect, but Jacob already knew this.

"If the RCMP charges him with Human Trafficking do you think our extradition request will go anywhere?" I asked instead.

"Possibly, couldn’t hurt leveling something like that on him Elizabeth. No country is immune from human trafficking and with better than 90% of that for the sex trade - you're probably right, Canada will want to make an example of Mr. Lafleur," Jacob said as if he were processing another thought.

"Organized crime," I said aloud accidently.

Paul was looking at me and asked as if he hadn't heard me, "How does that fit?"

I was embarrassed, but repeated my thought, "Human trafficking is one of organized crimes larger focuses, stupid I know, I... It was something we discussed in school. I was thinking, maybe David Lafleur is connected to something bigger, maybe?"

"Paul, what do we know about Lafleur," Jacob asked.

"Not much, he drives truck for Canada Post. The lewd conduct with a minor and prostitution charges were his only run-ins with the law. Divorced, thirty years old, no kids - typical stuff really. That's the basic profile I got from Tim at the bureau. If there was some kind of criminal connection the FBI would likely know I'm guessing or at least have been clued in by the RCMP."

Worth a try I thought to myself before Jacob said, "Interesting angle Elizabeth, we need to keep thinking outside the box. I was just thinking, if Lafleur is charged with human trafficking - the minimum sentence for that is four to six years in Canada. Amber's age at time of their first contact should up that a little since she wasn't eighteen. They do have a maximum penalty of life imprisonment, but to my knowledge no one has ever been given that sentence."

I felt better about my Lafleur mob connection thought spoken aloud - it wasn't really an outside the box idea, more like grasping at something intelligent to add to the conversation. Jacob and Paul continued to talk about a few other details and I zoned them out.

What if David Lafleur was somehow... Wait, what if the chat room exchange Amber had wasn't with David? What if that was someone in his stable of women? Classic approach – have someone non-threatening follow her online, befriend her, buy her things - but stay removed, and then be an intermediary to Lafleur. You didn't have to be a runaway to fall prey to this kind of thing. Amber may have felt marginalized by her friends - given her lack of social media presence - which is akin to isolation. All traps, no matter how much support her parents were giving her. If only she...

Paul was waving at me and my lip reading of his read - 'Anything you want to ask?' I nodded 'No' and he told Jacob he would call him later if we found out anything. I watched him put his phone in his pocket, then clicking to login to Amber's new email account we'd used to emailed David Lafleur.

"You check out for a couple seconds there?" he asked.

"Yeah, just the trafficking thing had me thinking..."

"What?"

"I am not an expert with this stuff, but a lot of the pieces of her life put her in a position where some shit head like Lafleur could snatch her up. I mean, the Carson’s by all appearances are the perfect parents. Heck, I'm jealous, but I know feeling lost and empty and the lengths you'll go to for a positive stroke. It can make you vulnerable and you aren't really thinking the snake you're petting is going to bite you."

"OK, but besides being an preditor, David Lafleur doesn't fit the sex trafficker profile," Paul said like he was trying to gingerly pull me back from the edge.

"What if, totally hypothetical, that wasn't Lafleur in that chat room? What if it was some girl who's already working for him?"

"Aaah, I don't know Elizabeth," he said flustered, "Every time we look at something regarding Amber it seems straight forward - until it's not."

"Exactly... In her other email accounts do you remember her talking to anyone regularly? Like, besides the losers hitting her up for pictures or videos. I'll give her credit - she didn't give much away for free. Her PayPal and Patreon accounts were what, five months old? Better than twenty-grand in five months? That's a lot of money for a teen."

Paul looked to be trying to remember Amber's email contacts, "There were plenty of people she talked to via email. More on Tumblr and within her Patreon account. No names jump out at me Liz."

I watched a smile grow on his face, was it because he knew I liked when he called me Liz? Then I looked at the TV screen - there was a reply to our email! I felt my heart begin to race!

"Oh shit...," I whispered.

"Seriously," he said clicking the email open.

There were only two words in the email - 'Fuck You' My heart literally sank.

"What does that mean?" I asked panicked.

"Means we either got the wrong email address or... Crap I don't know," Paul began clicking on programs, typing gibberish in one of the screens.

"What if the owner of this email address was expecting a different reply from Amber? Like, like the person expected her to email them and not David?"

Paul wasn't paying attention, "Great, they used a secure VPN..." He was typing again.

"So?"

"So, they connected off the grid basically. VPN is a Virtual Private Network. They used one that bounces the packet across multiple networks, servers." I must have looked confused because he continued by explaining, "Packet - the container your data travels the internet in. Everything regarding what you sent in a web transaction is contained in the packet - sender, receiver, location, IP address, all of that - not just the content."

"Okay, then they did this to hide themselves?"

"Right, their VPN routed this message to any number of servers pushing infinite number of packets around the world, makes it virtually impossible to track where the message originated from."

"But the chat room - that was from Vancouver. You said that right?"

"Best guess, maybe that was the last server that processed the sending of the data," he paused, "No, each line sent to Amber would have been a packet. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that chat room stuff was all from the Vancouver area. We'd have varying servers showing up for each exchange from the FlowerGirl. Dang..."

Paul was obviously frustrated, but I had an idea.

"OK, so we blew the email thing, but maybe not. Let me reply, I'll say that email was for David, my ‘Daddy’. That might get this person talking."

Paul nodded his head and extended the laptop to me after hitting 'Reply' to the email. OK, how to play this?

'That email was for Daddy, not you! Just give me what he needs me to do next week. a'

"That's good. Goes with the assumption Amber knows who she's talking with now. Can't hurt at this point, especially with him about to be arrested."

I passed the laptop back to Paul.

"Maybe less is more... Did you check to see if the link in our first email was followed?"

"Yes, it wasn't followed. Whoever this is - they are certainly being cautious."

"Wouldn't you be? Lafleur is almost arrested in Santa Fe. If this isn’t him – they know the authorities are looking for him. They’ve got to be on edge as much as he is. Some kind of crazy," I said.

Paul looked like he was going to say something but buried his nose back into whatever computer thing he was doing.

"You look like you want to ask me something," I asked.

He paused, typed a few keystrokes, and then asked, "Was it like this for you?"

I still wasn't sure how I felt about Paul knowing as much as he did about my past. I didn't see 'red' at his ask, but this wasn't something I wanted to really rehash. That part of my past was an embarrassing and a pathetically low-point in my life, how to say that without getting into too many details?

"Look, you don't have to answer that. I get it - a time of your life you'd like buried. I'm not trying to intrude or judge or whatever..."

Okay, he gets it.

"Yeah, there was some crazy. I was hit on a couple dozen times a day. I usually had twenty people fucking with me during my webcam sessions. Typical crap you'd expect - 'Do this'; 'Show that'. Solicitations daily were five times that. I ate it up, but it got old. When my first video hit I got over a thousand messages the first night. Sick shit, lonely fucking losers, fetish junkies preying on my need for acceptance, needing to be validated."

I got up and went to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and marveled at the neat rows of twelve water bottles and as many cans of assorted soda - they replenished the stock daily.

"You want a Coke?" I asked.

"Nah... Thanks. You got out though, that couldn't have been easy."

"No, it wasn't. I hit bottom. Not something I wanna talk about Paul. I choose to live as the real me basically, that became my focus and my escape of that hell. I haven't looked back until volunteering to help Jacob find Amber. God, I wish she wouldn't have gone down this road. I just don't understand, given all she has going for her with her family."

Paul stood and met me at the door to the kitchen.

"You made the right choice. You were brave."

"I was stupid for not being who I knew I was from the beginning."

Paul took my hands, "Well, I'm glad you're you now."

He pulled me close and just held me. It felt amazing to just be held. I didn't want it to end.

March 12th, 7:48 PM
I had been moving slowly and was finally sitting on the edge of the bed. It felt like an exaggerated slow motion contortion act I'd been putting on for the past two minutes. The clock said 7:48 PM, which meant we'd been laying here for just over an hour. There was a little kissing when we climbed into bed to unplug for a bit. We both needed to unplug.

Sleep came quickly for me, especially while being spooned by Paul. After twenty minutes though - his snoring, even with repeatedly jostling his hold on me to get him to stop - I'd had enough. The snuggling was cute, the snoring - not so much. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and headed to the living room, pulling the door to the bedroom nearly shut.

Was I ever going to have a story for Lisa when I got back to Seattle. I smiled as I pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Yeah, she was going to freak! The first sip was cool and I ended up sucking down over half the bottle. I was a big believer in hydration, mainly because of all the running I did, but the climate here in Arizona made me feel thirsty all the time. Probably had nothing to do with being here, more likely I was being hypersensitive like I always was about wherever I was or whatever I was doing.

I went over to Paul's laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of the TV and jiggled the mouse to wake the system up. A password screen popped up - guess I won't be checking to see if we got any traction from the email to our 'Daddy' or other actors. I grabbed the remote and pulled up the TV guide screen, deciding to watch a repeat of a mountain bike race from last weekend in a place called Slick Rock. Beautiful country just north of Sedona, Arizona. The chainsaw noises from the bedroom stopped and I looked toward the door, listening for Paul thinking he might be getting up. No noise, then it began again - he must have rolled over.

I stretched out on the couch and while I may have been staring at the TV, I wasn't seeing much but movement. I couldn't focus on anything but whether David Lafleur was connected or was someone else working with him. I prayed he was a solo shit head and Amber was his only victim. I closed my eyes. God I wished I could make my brain stop thinking…

March 12th, 8:06 PM
Fuck! My phone ringing and the vibration startled me awake and I jumped to a sitting position on the edge of the couch, almost slipping off the leather cushions. I fumbled with the phone to get it right side up so I could read the number - I didn't recognize it and there was no caller ID available. T-Mobile wasn't saying ‘Scam Likely’. I had to think about who knew my number?

The Carson’s, Amber, and then I wondered if it could be the FBI or Phoenix Police. It was certainly a Phoenix number and as the phone began to ring for the third time I answered, "Hello..." Silence. I waited five seconds - I could hear breathing on the line, "Hello?"

Then I could hear what sounded like muffled sobs, a woman possibly, crying...

"Hey, hey... Take a breath... Who is this? Amber?" I was trying to sound calm, but could feel my chest tightening, I felt panicky.

"My," a sob and something was said I couldn't make out. "... arresting him. How can...," more hard breathing mixed with crying, a few words I still couldn't make out again, "Is that true?"

It was Amber, Oh shit!

"Amber, look, you need to relax, calm down... I, I can't understand some of what you are saying... Start from the top, slowly."

Oh fuck! Had she found out David Lafleur was being arrested tonight? How?

There was a long pause and I could hear her breathing slower, maybe trying to compose herself.

"My... I heard them say David was being arrested, is that true?"

No... Not me, don't ask me about this shit, kid!

"I, look, he's broken the law Amber. If he's innocent a good lawyer will have him out of trouble in no time,” I replied.

Great, give her hope the pedophile is actually innocent given all I'd seen of their interactions.

"I approached him. I'm the," more sobbing made whatever she was trying to get garbled again.

"If that's true, his lawyers will use that Amber, but I think we both know that's not true."

"That's bullshit! This is a fucking," the line went silent. In a quieter restrained tone, she said, "It's a fucking setup. This is my parents and Uncle Jacob trying to ruin my...," the last part of her sentence was lost to the whispered tone she was using.

Was she trying to hide that she was talking to me? Where did she get a phone?

"OK, well it's out of our hands... If he's arrested then it's for the courts to decide." I was trying to remain calm, but I was feeling very anxious - wishing my purse was handy and I could pop a Xanax.

Nearly thirty seconds of silence, and she asked, "Why are you helping them?"

"I'm not helping them Amber, I'm here to help you."

"No, you know... You know fucking... God damn you!" Her voice was straining and I could feel the anger in the words as she spoke.

"I know a lot and I know not being true to yourself is a big mistake. I've been down this road Amber, it sucks, and you have to believe that. People are going to use you..."

"Yeah, well fucking everyone uses everyone... Don't fucking give me that shit!"

She'd cut me off and I was having trouble feeling like I could stand up to her.

"Mmhuh, that's true. What's also true is you knew that you were different and you were brave enough to make that shift to trying to be the real you," I wasn't sure what I was trying to say, but let the words flow. "Then... I don't know what happened - you lost friends, got bullied, whatever - and instead of fighting for yourself you took the first comforting hand extended to you. That hand was all the bullshit fetish crap you thought was gonna save you from all the 'Boo hoo - whoa is me...' bullshit thrown at you. Well listen up, you got fucked by a piece of shit loser, who got you to expose that shit on the internet for a couple bucks. And for what, twenty seconds of feel good and some cash? I'm not preaching Amber, I'm telling you all this shit coming down - it's all on you. All you because you gave up being who you knew you were inside."

I was shaking slightly and stood, and as I did the door to the bedroom opened. Paul was looking at me concerned. I turned away. Fuck!

"That's not true... I'm going... We're going to have more money than you ever will know... I..."

"I doubt that," I could feel Paul staring at me from behind me. "You'll be used until there's nothing left worth using and then discarded.” I lowered my voice, slowed down my cadence, "That life you think is so easy, it's not, and one day you'll wake up in a hospital not remembering how you got there, a couple broken ribs and a fucked up face. Yeah, some kind of wonderful life that'll be. Or you'll be dead. You wanna be a big girl, a woman - give this shit up before it gets you killed! This isn't a video game or some Facebook-love-fest... This is you being used by a sick fuck."

"You don't kno..."

"The fuck I don't!"

"Yeah, well... David loves me and," she sounded desperate to have some kind of win from our exchange.

"If he loved you, he wouldn't be using you. No... Love, real love looks very different Amber. You have no further to look than your parents." I hoped they had a solid relationship or I'd just screwed my whole point.

"Davi..."

"No, David is a user, a fucking thirty year old fuck who stole from you something you will never, never get back..." I was heated and Paul standing behind me was not helping. I was glad he couldn't hear both sides of this conversation. I turned to face him, motioned for him to sit. After he had I went into the bedroom - closing the door behind me.

Amber droned on about David loving her and I wanted so bad to just beat the piss out of her. I found my purse, opened the Xanex bottle, and dumped the pills on the counter. I picked one up, turned the sink on, and sucked in a mouthful of foul tasting water from my hand to swallow it - no wonder the bottled water is free in this place!

When Amber paused I asked, "Who were you talking with in the chat room last night?"

"I wasn't talking in a chat room," she protested.

"Don't lie... I know you were talking to someone named FlowerGirl last night. I know about next week. What the hell are you thinking?" When she didn't answer right away I tried to soften my tone, but I wasn't confident I sounded anything but confrontational, "Was that David or someone else?"

"It was some...," and she stopped talking.

There was another voice in the background, a man, he sounded angry - "What the hell are you doing in... Who is that on the phone?"

"Dad... It's not what you," Amber yelled in protest.

There was a thunking noise, and then, "Hello! Who the fuck is this!" a man's voice yelled into the phone.

"Mr. Carson, this is Elizabeth Gallagher, I work with Jacob. I, I gave Amber my number the other night and, I... I told her to call me if she wanted to talk..." I had no doubt I didn't sound confident in any of that ramble. He was so angry and I could barely form a sentence.

"Elizabeth? Okay, well, we don't want Amber talking to people right now, so... Ah, yeah, thanks for speaking with her. Please... I'm sorry about the," and he stopped speaking.

"No, I totally understand Mr. Carson. Thank you."

The line went dead and I took my first breath since he took the phone from hr. Oh my God! There was a ringing in my ears and I felt light headed. I backed up and plopped my ass onto the toilet seat, then buried my face in my hands. Breathe... Nothing is going to happen, nothing is...

March 12th, 8:29 PM
"You okay? Didn't hear you yelling, thought I'd check on you,” a concerned Paul was saying.

I tried to sit up straight, but put my face back in my hands and leaned over my knees again.

"Think so," I squeaked. That was a lie.

"Trouble with your," I heard Paul putting my Xanax back in the bottle, "Alprazolam?"

Nice, he knew how to say the prescriptions real name.

"Yeah, little bit..."

"You and Amber have another heart to heart?"

"You could say that... Then again maybe I was just being a bitch. I really don't know what to think right now."

Paul chuckled, "Sounds like you gave her a good thrashing. I think she probably needed that, rather than being coddled like I've seen Stephanie handling her." He tried to laugh after saying that, but it sounded a little nervous to me.

The ringing in my ears was beginning to really freak me out. I sensed Paul standing in front of me, and then I saw through my fingers him kneeling and placing his hands on my knees.

"You want to lay down?"

"No, I'm just gonna sit here. Might need to puke."

"Anxiety?"

"Yeah... Typical panic attack shit for me... This one's bad. Talk to me, need to get my head in a different space to help get over this."

"Sure, ah... No email reply yet."

"It's not David... The chat room wasn't David."

"Amber tell you that?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think that's what she was saying before her dad blew a gasket on the phone."

"Oh... You got to talk to Gary? Given all the shit he's gone through, I imagine anything to do with Amber could tip him over. I can't imagine what this has been like for him. Did Amber say anything about next week?" he asked.

"We didn't get that far, not for lack of trying... Her dad kind of blew getting an answer to that question."

"We need them to parent Liz, they need to step up. I get the sense Stephanie is afraid to put her foot down for fear of having her run again. I could be totally wrong on that though."

"I can see where it might be difficult for them. That kid frustrates me so much Paul," I complained softly.

Paul's phone began ringing in the bedroom, "I'll be right back..."

He patted my shoulder and left to get it. I heard him answer, it was Jacob, and then he asked him to hold on.

"Okay, you're on speaker, Elizabeth is here."

"I just got off the phone with Landon. RCMP in Vancouver just finished a two hour standoff with David Lafleur. When they entered his apartment they found him deceased in his bedroom. He was shot in the head..."

"Suicide?" Paul asked.

Oh my God! This isn't happening - I looked at Paul for some understanding of what we'd just heard, he just shrugged in return.

"No. No weapon recovered, they think he was killed sometime early this morning," Jacob replied.

My stomach dropped and began to roil. No, that can't be...

"Landon said to expect a call from the bureau and the Phoenix police in the next couple hours. They'll just want to know where you both were the last twenty-four hours. Nothing to worry about - just standard procedure. I've given them my information already; they will be contacting the Carson’s shortly."

Were we suspects somehow? No, everyone is a suspect until ruled out. We'd been deep into trying to find Lafleur, only logical to include us on a list of people hunting him and maybe wanting to take out their own brand of justice on him. Jacob didn't say murder though, but no weapon being found? That has got to be foul play?

"So, the Carson’s don't know yet?" Paul asked.

"Correct. Again, they are just checking people off the list, nothing to worry about; we know where everyone was the past twenty-four hours. Also, as of right now you are to stop all investigation into Lafleur, Amber, or anyone else, understood?"

"Sure Jacob..."

"Elizabeth?"

I was feeling sick, but managed, "Yes Mr. Wentz..."

"Paul, connect with Tim at the bureau - he's expecting to meet with you tonight. Give him everything you've uncovered if he doesn't have that already. Elizabeth, you might as well tag along - in case they want to interview you or you have anything that could help."

Paul was looking at me, but I must not have looked in any condition to speak.

"Jacob, Elizabeth just finished talking to Amber not ten minutes ago. We're pretty sure she said the chat room transcript was not a conversation with David Lafleur... Our attempt at emailing what we thought was his email address ran into an unexpected reply. This could require the investigation into others I'm afraid - especially with Lafleur being no longer around."

"Damn it," Jacob sounded annoyed. "Lafleur's passing and if what you're telling me is true means this isn't all going to go away quietly or quickly. Alright, make sure Tim knows all that - I'll call Landon back. I'm going to talk to Stephanie, I think it's time Amber was thoroughly pressured for details. Elizabeth, would you be available tomorrow to assist?"

I was waving at Paul frantically to leave, while dropping to my knees, spinning around to lift the toilet seat - he got the message. I heard him saying, as he closed the door to the bathroom, that I would be available tomorrow. That's all I heard before I began retching into the toilet. The vomit burned my throat, so did the little that came out of my nose.

When I focused contents of the bowl, it was a putrid red color - not what I was expecting... I started to see grey closing in around my periphery. Shit...

::: --- :::

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)(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...