Truth or Lies?

  About the author

  A. I. Gomez is a former counselor for sexually abused children. After having children of her own, she found it was too difficult to have happy kids and also keep the judges and prosecutors happy, so she decided to become a stay-at-home mom.

  A. I. Gomez lives in Texas with her three kids, husband and dog. The entire family enjoys anything and everything outdoors, especially sports. This is her first novel.

  Truth or Lies?

  A. I. Gomez

  Truth or Lies?

  Vanguard Press

  VANGUARD PAPERBACK

  © Copyright 2021

  A. I. Gomez

  The right of A. I. Gomez to be identified as author of

  this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All Rights Reserved

  No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication

  may be made without written permission.

  No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced,

  copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions

  of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended).

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to

  this publication may be liable to criminal

  prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is

  available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978 1 784659 16 5

  Vanguard Press is an imprint of

  Pegasus Elliot MacKenzie Publishers Ltd.

  www.pegasuspublishers.com

  First Published in 2021

  Vanguard Press

  Sheraton House Castle Park

  Cambridge England

  Printed & Bound in Great Britain

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my late Mother,

  for her lifelong passion for reading.

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to my good friend and my new alpha reader, Allison. You’re a kick-ass lawyer, a loving mother and wife, the CEO of your household and now you can add rock star reader to the list. You took the time to read my entire manuscript and gave me feedback, regardless of your busy schedule. You were brutally honest and sincere and I appreciated that. It meant so much to me to get your stamp of approval. Thank you, Allison!

  To Pegasus and everyone who played a role in the publication of this book. Thank you, thank you so much for taking a chance on me. Thank you, Vicky Gorry, for being patient with me and always answering all my questions. It was a learning process and I appreciate your help and understanding, especially in our current pandemic state.

  1

  I was talking to myself while I was at a red light, going over and over how I was going to answer the defense attorney once I got to court. For once, I was running on time. I was making a few mental notes when I felt a light bump. I paused and looked out my windows. I looked at my side mirrors and rear-view mirror as well. I wasn’t sure if the truck behind me had just hit me or what. The person in it was looking down, so I decided to ignore it. Whatever it was. Then something bumped me again. It wasn’t hard but I was sure this time that truck behind me hit me. No way the wind was that strong in this city. I knew they called it the Windy City but give me a break, that was a hit from behind, not the wind. I looked in my rear-view mirror again and a silver pickup truck was right there on top of my cute car. But where was the driver? I saw no head or body in my rearview mirror. “Great! It had to be this day,” I told myself with irritation in my voice. I got out to assess the damage on my poor car but I still didn’t see a driver. Hm…should I call the police? Then a head popped up—it was a man and he was waving. Weird. I looked fixedly to see what he could possibly be doing. It looked like he was fidgeting with something on his suit jacket or a man purse? Hmm.

  The guy finally finished, after what seemed like an eternity of fidgeting. “Sorry!” he yelled, as he got out of his truck. He jogged/walked to my car and was out of breath at that point. Why was he out of breath? His truck was practically on top of my car.

  “I was trying to secure my gun.” He paused for a moment, looking at me in blank confusion. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

  I felt a spasm of panic—perhaps more so since he was a towering six-foot something of intimidating muscle. Well, shit. He looked like a blond, blue-eyed Adonis but sounded like a sociopath. Why did it have to be me? And today of all days! Sigh. I gazed at him nervously—my mouth open, trying to say something, but what does one say after a comment like that? Should I laugh? Should I excuse myself and call the police? No, instead we just stared at each other for the longest, most uncomfortable minute ever. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t I say something? I cleared my throat, wringed my hands nervously and decided to break the awkward silence.

  “Okaaay. Why don’t you give me all of your information so I can get to court and we can settle this when neither of us is in a rush.” I tried to be as polite as possible and just as calm. I was still a little panicked.

  “Court? You’re a lawyer?” He was still staring and he took a few steps toward me—my spasm of panic getting a little worse now.

  “No,” I prompted, “I’m a psychologist for abused children and today…” I stopped abruptly, eyeing him. Why was I telling him this? It’s none of his business. Stay calm, Isabel, and don’t let your voice shake, I reminded myself. I glanced at my watch, “Please, just give me your information so I can get to court. I’m late now.” I exhaled loudly; his impossibly gorgeous face just made me more nervous and didn’t help the situation. He was still staring. What was his problem? Was he trying to give me a heart attack?

  “You have the most amazing green eyes I’ve ever seen. And your long, brown hair just makes them more intense.” He inched closer, invading my personal space. I arched my back to get away.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, “my mother tells me that all the time. Your info, please.” I could see the bulge in his suit jacket. No doubt that’s where his gun was.

  “Oh! Right! My information!” He ran back to his truck to get it. While his back was turned I took pictures of his truck with him in the picture, his license plate and the area we were at. He stalked back to me, breathing heavily.

  “Here’s everything and I wrote down my email and cell number for you. Just in case you need to call me... for any reason… any reason at all.” He winked at me.

  “Uh, okay, thank you?”

  “Seriously, you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen! So hypnotic—I can’t stop staring,” he muttered.

  “Um, thank you,” I said as I ran to my car.

  Finally, safe and sound in the parking lot of the city court house. My adrenaline must have been coming down because I was starting to feel sluggish. I did my best to speed walk to the courtroom and find Jill, the prosecutor assigned to the case. She was on a bench outside the courtroom. I was breathing heavy from the walk and needed to sit down.

  “You’re breathing all over my papers.” She scooted away from me while she was writing.

  “Sorry, I thought I was going to be late so I kind of sped-walked from my car.” She looked up at me, expressionless, and just kept writing.

  “You know you have grease or oil or something on your blouse and shoes,” she said. “Go clean up quickly while we’re waiting for the FBI agents to get here. I still need your help talking to the victim and her mother one more time.” She kept writing without looking up.

  Once in the bathroom I relaxed a bit. It was nice and cool in there and there was a chair for me to sit on so I could clean my shoe and just take a few deep breaths. I tried cleaning my blouse but it just smeared more
every time I put water on it or rubbed it. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. Good enough. It looked as if I was wearing an overpriced mess by some high fashion designer. Jill started calling my cell. I didn’t want to answer since she seemed like she was in a pissy mood. I washed my hands and darted out of the ladies’ room just in time to run into a statue of a man. Running into him would’ve knocked me off my feet if he hadn’t caught me in his arms.

  “Whoa! Thanks!” I said breathlessly but he didn’t let go. I pushed a little against his chest but he tightened his grip on me. I could feel him snickering. What the hell? I pushed one last time against his rock-hard chest. “Hm, he’s pretty muscular, can I take him?” I asked myself under my breath. He heard me talking to myself, loosened his hold to look down at me and that was when I jabbed my spiked heel into his foot, shoved him away, kicked his shin and elbowed him in the nose. He covered his nose in pain, bent over, grabbing his shin and let out an agonizing groan. “Yeah!” I celebrated. “That felt great!”

  He grunted, cursed a few times and fell onto the bench outside the restroom. I then heard a strained, deep voice say, “Hello, green eyes.”

  I knew that voice…that was a familiar-sounding voice. Where had I heard that voice? Another man in a suit headed our way with Jill at his side to see what the commotion was all about. I was smiling from ear to ear at this point, my hands on my hips, standing over the guy I just made bleed.

  “Get your shit together, Rockwall! You’re bleeding all over the place.” The other man sounded irked.

  “What happened?” Jill asked, confused. “Isabel, is that blood on your sleeve? What’s going on? Is Special Agent Rockwall all right?”

  Special Agent Rockwall? Wait, what? I looked at Jill, bewildered.

  “I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re fine. She was just helping me with my bloody nose, that’s all.” He paused. “I ran into the ladies’ room door. I wasn’t paying attention on my way to the men’s room and hit the door to the ladies’ room when it swung open.” Agent Rockwall was a good liar.

  Shit. Recognition hit me. It was the rear-ender from earlier this morning. I knew I recognized that voice. Jill sighed in exasperation. “I guess you’ve met Agent Rockwall already.” She motioned to the bleeding man I’d just assaulted. “And this is Special Agent Stevens; they’re with the FBI, the special agents in charge of this high-profile case. They will be working with us on this case since the defendant crossed state lines. Everyone, please get cleaned up. Isabel, I’ll meet you in the witness room when you’re finished here, just hurry.” She and the other FBI agent walked back to where they came from.

  “Got it,” I replied. Crap! FBI! Why don’t you think before you react, Isabel?

  “So, green eyes…it’s Isabel? It suits you—you look like an Isabel. You know, for a skinny little thing, you sure are strong. I don’t know what part of my body hurts more. Remind me never to surprise you again.” He was wincing while holding his nose and wiping the blood. Okay, I was starting to feel a little guilty. Just a little. I got a few paper towels from the ladies’ room and sat next to him to help. I reached over to wipe his chin before the blood could fall on his shirt or jacket. He pulled away slightly when he saw me reach over, almost throwing his hands up in the air defensively.

  “The blood,” I whispered, “it’s going to stain your suit.”

  He stayed perfectly still and let me wipe his chin while gazing into my eyes.

  I felt awkward and stupid. I must have been blushing because I could feel my face getting hot. Why did this guy make me feel so nervous? He was just another pretty face and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Guys like him were a dime a dozen around here. What was so special about him?

  My cell phone rang, startling me—it was Jill. She must be wondering what’s keeping me.

  “I have to run,” I whispered, somewhat agitated. I placed the paper towels in his hand as I stood up, pausing for a moment. Should I apologize? He did provoke me earlier. This wouldn’t have happened if he had just let me go. Yes, I told myself, it’s the right thing to do. I turned to look at him, “I want to say how sorry I am for assaulting you the way I did,” I said, trying to sound apologetic. “No matter what the situation or circumstance, I should’ve never behaved that way with you. I was very rude and you don’t deserve that.” I paused, “and thank you as well for not saying anything to Jill or Agent Stevens.” I sounded circumvented. I was going for sincere but this was good. “I don’t know how I would’ve handled all of her questions had she known.”

  He stood up; his eyes were wide, and of course, gazing into mine. I felt a little uncomfortable when he gently placed his hands on my shoulders, his face impassive, “Oh, they will never hear what really happened from me.”

  Huh. His tone was colored with embarrassment? Sarcasm? I eyed him, frowning, not sure what to think.

  2

  I walked into the witness room, rolling up my sleeves since I hadn’t cleaned Agent Rockwall’s blood from my right sleeve. Jill was already talking with the victim’s mother; she was a witness in her daughter’s case. My thirteen-year-old victim saw me and ran to give me a hug. She was tall for thirteen. Looking at her, she could pass for sixteen or seventeen, and if one were to put a little makeup on her she would look older still. I worked with a lot of abuse cases and the ones that had to go through the judicial system, I called my victims. It just sounded nicer than having to keep saying “the victim.” I didn’t always want to use their names for fear someone would hear me discussing a case with Jill or the police. I wanted to make sure the kids were always protected.

  I had brought her some candy today, knowing she was going to be uneasy since we were starting the trial. She was the key witness for the prosecution side and just the thought of that would make anyone edgy. Not to mention that she, at some point today, would have to walk inside a courtroom, face the perpetrator and recount everything he did to her in front of a jury, without me at her side. I wouldn’t be allowed in while she testified since the prosecution had subpoenaed me as well. Ugh! All that work we’d been doing to get her in a better place mentally and emotionally and having to battle with her mother to bring her to therapy. And now…after today… she might regress when she sees him. I hated the judicial system! And I hated how they re-victimize these poor kids!

  We talked about what to expect once she was in the courtroom. I reminded her I couldn’t be inside with her because I’d been subpoenaed too, but I expressed emphatically how I knew she was ready for today. I brought to mind how brave and strong she had been throughout the entire process and how especially courageous she was when she decided to tell me what had happened to her. She was eating her candy, nodding at everything I was saying, looking unruffled. I felt somewhat relieved. Her mother, on the other hand, could be a problem. She had been a problem from the moment this case landed in my lap. She and my victim had disappeared once, claiming she just wanted to put all the ugliness behind them and just help her daughter heal. It sounded reasonable enough until Jill’s private investigator discovered where they were living and who was supporting their lifestyle. Apparently, when the perp posted bond, he decided to go to the mother to talk her into getting my victim to recant her story. He convinced her that these were the most outlandish lies ever fabricated about him and it was only because his enemies were out to ruin him. And because he was so wealthy, he was able to provide her and her daughter with a very comfortable lifestyle and a nice bank account—all the while running a sex operation with young girls and her daughter in the middle of it. The mother wanted to keep the lifestyle she was accustomed to so she looked the other way.

  She lost custody for a hot minute; however, because she followed all the instructions the court ordered of her, she was able to regain custody.

  Jill walked over to us so she could have one last chat with my victim. “Okay, so, don’t forget what we talked about,” she began. “Only answer the questions the other lawyer asks you. For instance, if it’s a yes or no question
just answer yes or no and don’t follow it up with a, yes, but. I’ll make sure you get your but in.” My victim giggled. It was pretty funny so Jill and I ended up laughing with her.

  Jill eyed me, “A word in private?”

  “Sweet girl, go be with your mama and share some of your candy with her,” I said.

  Jill smiled her contagious smile. “I totally love how your Texas twang comes out when you talk to these victims.”

  “Um, thank you?” I smiled, wrinkling my nose.

  “So, what do you think? Will this victim talk once she’s in the courtroom and in front of this perpetrator?”

  “Jill, I wish I could tell you with absolute certainty that she will do great and you have nothing to worry about, but the truth is I just don’t know.” I continued, “She’s well prepared and she’s in a good place now. I think she’ll do just fine.” I was hoping she’d do fine. Talking about facing the perpetrator was one thing but actually doing it was quite another.

  I placed my hands on my hips and said in exasperation, “I swear, Jill, nothing else better go wrong today or I’m going to punch someone.”

  “Tell me about it! This case just needs to be done and over with. I sure hope the defense doesn’t drag it out.”

  “Well, don’t let that happen and git in there and git ‘er done!” I exclaimed, my twang inadvertently coming out. She giggled and gave me a thumbs up before walking out.

  We waited for what seemed like the entire day. My victim was asleep on the sofa; her mother was starting to nod off; the other witnesses that were in the room with us were all gone. I supposed their cases had finished for the day. The clock on the wall read 3 o’clock. Jeez, we’d been in this room for five hours! What gives? I decided to leave and go find out what the holdup was. As I left the room, I heard multiple footsteps and high heels. It was Jill with both FBI agents. The agents seemed tense and on guard—Jill wore a concerned expression.