A Legal Trap Ch. 04

Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

Thanks for following along with this story. Rachel...

March 10th 12:06 AM

Try as I might, I just couldn't wash away this day in what turned out to be a very long hot shower. Nearly twenty-five minutes of pure warmth delivered by a showerhead with some real water pressure behind it - unlike the crappy apartment shower I had back in Kent. Too many emotions were bombarding me and I felt very awake, though I knew my body was spent and running on fumes.

Pretty sure the little I had to drink with Paul wasn't helping my brain or attitude or my will to be more focused. From Amber's destructive path to working with Paul and wanting more of, more of that connected feeling with another human, to pretty much lying to Janet Larson about our progress, to loving the way the water from the shower flowed over my breasts.

I sighed and felt a pang of depression for hating that last physical piece of me that kept me anchored in a past life I wanted gone, to forget it even existed. Boil it all down and the trouble was - Amber's journey was too much like my own to ignore and it made my heart ache. I escaped the trap before starting HRT - but that scab was still pronounced on my psyche and easily torn off. Often times by my own mind not knowing when to stop picking at some fault I couldn't compartmentalize or come to terms with.

Granted she was only just getting started, but I couldn't get past her feeling as though her life was missing something. She was going about becoming her true self the wrong way by churning her sexuality into profit. There was no shortage of fetish seekers with money to be had with so little effort, but what you gave up was worth so much more than some quick cash.

The need for attention, confirmation, and validation of who she was becoming was so strong it blinded her. It had blinded me when I was her age. Logic was thrown out the window, at least for a seventeen, now eighteen year old. All told it really spelled disaster and would only get worse - as the Tumblr animated graphic of her proved. There was a video, but were there more, even worse?

I had been older than Amber and should have known better, but the gratification was like a drug. I had to have it and I kept raising the stakes of what I would give up of myself to get the attention and validation I was lacking in my life. Somewhere on the net was shit I hoped no one would ever see.

Long gone were my connections to that sewer of being used, being someone's fetish, kink. Why wasn't I smart enough to at least be paid for it? I got nothing but mental abuse from those trolling those same sewers as Amber was doing now. I shook my head, no way I could go back to that way of existence.

I pumped some lotion into my hands and began to apply it to my freshly shaved legs. When done, I pulled on a pair of plain cotton boyshort panties. I took a moment while standing in front of the mirror to admire my long legs and perky nearly B cup breasts. I hated that my left breast was noticeably smaller than the right. If I had the money implants would be my second surgery want.

HRT had been a Godsend. It helped got me off a destructive path, likely saving my life when I realized I needed to take control of my destiny. I couldn't argue about loving some of the results. Fat redistribution had done amazing things for my mental well being - giving me an ass that was round and bubbly - with the right amount of jiggle. I turned to inspect my greatest asset and smiled - it was a plus for sure.

I had gone from being 159 pounds, just over twenty months ago, and down to about 122 last time I weighed myself. I had that classic runner's body and got in at least twenty-five miles a week running around my neighborhood, so I wasn't a poser by any stretch. Running was a release in so many ways and an escape I craved on days I was at my lowest.

My facial features had softened during HRT and I had resigned myself to

not needing FFS - which was a good thing, since I didn't have the money

for that anyway. I begged my mom for money for school and ended up using

twenty-three hundred dollars for a tracheal shave procedure last year.

That surgery made passing so much easier, well besides my voice - which annoyed me all the time, but I was working on that diligently. Voice training was monotonous and boring. To pay for school it took to working two jobs, though I still had credit card debt that would be tough to squash any time soon.

I was pale from lack of sun and wondered if this body was good enough for... The tiny lump in the panties caught my attention and everything positive became less impressive in the blink of an eye. Who was I kidding, no one will want me like this. I wasn't even sure anyone would want me if I were whole, as I should be.

Why couldn't I just be happy with what I saw right now - just seconds ago?

I pulled on a loose, stretched out, pair of lycra runners' shorts and a

spaghetti strap blue tank top. I took off the towel my hair was wrapped

in and let the nearly shoulder length locks dangle - shaking my head a few

times to loosen up the tangles I could see, running my fingers through it

to shake them out.

I grabbed my brush and did a quick couple comb through motions. I should change the color, maybe go more blonde - like a dirty blonde. It would be subtle and a good change for springtime. I did have that grand advance for taking on this project of finding Amber. I decided it was a done deal - new hair color when I got home!

I finished the rest of my nightly routines, flipped the nightstand light

off, and enjoyed the coolness of the bed sheets on my skin. I rolled over

and grabbed a pillow to put between my knees - it would have to do in

absence of my body pillow at home. I looked at the clock illuminating

half the room, 12:24 AM and thought about the two alarms I had set on my

phone for 5:30 AM. Augh!

March 10th 1:41 AM

"Can I have my hand back?"

Paul let it go and I walked to the bar alone, which was by the pool now.

Kids were playing and splashing, music was filling in the voids when they

weren't yelling and screaming, the sun was very bright and I felt a warmth all over. Why didn't I have my sunglasses on?

"Can I help you," the bartender asked.

I looked at the menu board behind him; there weren't any salads listed.

"Excuse me, Miss..."

I turned to see a teenage boy standing next to me.

"Where did you get your bathing suit?"

I tried not to look flustered by his question, fearful of the reason he was asking, "I got it at Target," I replied. It was a classic one piece with a courtesy skirt. Not my first choice but for now it would have to do for obvious reasons.

It fit well and I looked down to see if something was amiss. Nope, I had tanned legs and really loved my painted toenails and shimmering beaded flip-flops...

"My dad really likes it. Can I take your picture?"

Huh, picture for your dad? "I don't understand..."

"Paul said you were cool with it. Over here," he was gesturing to a seat by the bar where a webcam was set up next to a computer. What did Paul have to do with this kid's dad?

I looked confused but followed him, sitting where he'd patted his hand on

a towel covered beach recliner. "Sit here..."

I did as requested, noticing there was a crowd of men watching. What is this?

"So, if you could just slide the straps off, show us your tits..."

A loud thump made me come very much awake, startlingly so. There were

two more in succession, a pause and three quieter one's followed. The room was black and I panicked - where was I?

I sat up quickly - what the fuck was that!? My heart was beating fast, I looked at the clock, 1:41 AM, shit! I opened the door to the living room area of the suite, it was dark, no movement. The AC was humming quietly, had it burped or something.

No, someone was at the door. I flipped a light on, squinting while walking to

the door on guard for someone about to jump out at me from behind the

couch or kitchen area. As I got to it, there were two light taps - I looked through the peephole, it was Paul.

"What Paul?" I was hoarse and sounded tired, annoyed, and leaned my head

against the door, exhaling slowly, trying to wake myself up.

"I found her Elizabeth, I know where she is..."

I had no idea what I looked like and there was no way I would, on purpose,

let anyone see me like this - which I was sure was pathetic. But this was

huge - had Paul really found Amber!? I opened the door, standing behind

it until he made his way in.

Paul barely gave me a look, which was both good, but with the slightest twinge of sadness also. He was obviously excited and had the TV turned on and his laptop connected by the time I had shut the door and made my way to the living room area.

"She's in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She got there Friday is my best guess."

I was looking at an email on the TV screen - courtesy of Paul forgetting

to take his Chrome Cast dongle with him when he was here earlier. The

email contained instructions from someone who signed the email 'Daddy'.

In fact reading it was sickening, pathetic.

'Daddy wants you here now...' 'Daddy will get you what you want...' 'You want to please your Daddy...' 'Daddy will pick you up today...' and it went on like that ad nauseam.

"Are you fucking kidding me," I whispered.

Paul's eyes didn't stray from the screen. "Yeah, was hell reading this

crap, but I've tracked their correspondence back over four months. He's

been grooming her, which led to him picking her up from school last

Friday - got that in an email somewhere. I don't know where in Santa Fe

she is, but I do have a phone number for this guy. I've alerted Jacob and

the Carson's, who are working with the police and maybe even the FBI right

now."

"How did you get into this email account?" We had access to three of Amber's other email accounts, but they weren't used much. The email account Paul had on the screen was the one we didn't have a password for, so this was a huge breakthrough.

Paul looked up from his laptop and was looking at me, "Luck. I went through the 'Forgot Password' process on this account and she had used one of the others we had access to as a recovery email address. Went through the recovery process - changed the password - logged in."

I was impressed, "Wow, that's awesome!" I felt self-conscious as it seemed he was measuring me with his gaze still. My tight fitting tank top was hiked up slightly showing my midriff and accentuated by two tiny nubs poking at the tightly woven cotton fabric at my chest, on top of two nonsymmetrical small breasts.

I pulled the shirt down, but it didn't help - except to make the view of my tits more pronounced. I crossed my arms and gave him a look that said, 'Enough gawking'.

"I talked to Jacob, we've locked her out of her accounts for Paypal and

Patreon - I changed those passwords. The money is still there and actually she

must have picked up a few more subscribers as there is now just over

twelve-thousand in the combined accounts. New password for her accounts

is 'PEaz4HiRe3988'." Paul enunciated the particulars of the password.

OK, Thanks for that, but I had no idea... Wait, 3988 was the last four digits of my Social Security Number! "Hey, what the hell?!"

"It's 'P' for Paul, 'E' for Elizabeth, we're in 'AZ' and 'hired' to find Amber, and I tossed your last four SSN in there for good measure. Feel free to access any of her..."

I barked before he could continue, "No, that's not good measure! That's fucked

up, that's what that is?!" I was burning a hole through him with my stare. I could feel my chest tightening, breathes were coming in shallow huffs, adrenaline was flowing madly due to possibly finding Amber, and I

was really fucking pissed at Paul!

I walked to my room, slamming the door behind me before he could explain. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?!

I found my purse and opened the bottle of Xanax, went to the bathroom,

filled a glass of water and downed it quickly. The water tasted funny, which explains why they gave away complimentary water - but that was in

the refrigerator and I was pissed and not going to give him the satisfaction of riling me anymore.

Was he poking at me on purpose? Did he have queued on his laptop content from when I was posting my own shit out there? Had he shared that shit with Jacob? FUCK! FUCK YOU!

I looked in the mirror and cringed - I looked like death. Pale pasty skin, hair a complete disaster, and I just realized I needed to pee - which is about the only time this Goddamn worthless appendage ever changed these days, though only barely.

March 10th 2:03 AM

I had been sitting on my bed contemplating my next move. I wanted to just

collapse into the bed, melt into the covers, and not move or speak to anyone

for twenty-four hours. I knew that wasn't going to happen, so I decided

to try to make myself more presentable.

I did a lite version of my usual makeup application, got my hair semi under control with a little water and a spritz of hairspray, and then changed my clothes. I was basically working up the courage to confront Paul, when I heard him speaking from the living room...

"Hey Jacob, no we're up, looking into any other leads we can find..." There was a very long pause, maybe a minute or more. "Yes, I sent the passwords to Detective Hanes. I also suspended her Patreon account after we talked..."

A shorter pause. "The full video is there still, but no one will have access..." More silence, "That's right. We don't want to tamper with any digital evidence - totally understand. Their system will show the password change locking her out and the time of account suspension for viewing by those who have subscribed to her content."

I hadn't heard a phone ringing, so wondered if Paul had called Jacob. I

couldn't take not seeing and being a part of the conversation and opened

the door to the living room. Paul looked up at me and mouthed 'Jacob'. I

nodded back. He put the phone in speaker mode...

"Hey Jacob, you're on speaker phone, Elizabeth is back."

"Hello Elizabeth, nice job with the breakthrough."

I looked at Paul confused. "Ah, Thank You Mr. Wentz, but Paul is really the brains behind this operation." I shrugged at him. He just stared blankly at me, nodding slightly in acknowledgement at whatever thought was cruising through his mind.

"Jacob, that is correct, the account is unchanged - as are her other accounts except for the password changes I made to keep her out. Oh, and I'm certain the full video was done after Friday, you can clearly see the new tattoo in some of it. I have no idea how many views though - the people at Patreon will know that though. It's likely been grabbed and reposted on other sites - that's typical."

"Okay, the Santa Fe Police are putting a list together of where she might

get the implants done. They won't be able to make contact with anyone

until doctors' offices open," Jacob said.

I looked at Paul with a concerned look and mouthed 'implants'. He nodded 'Yes'. I shook my head.

"Are you two coming over now?"

"Yes, be there within the hour Jacob," Paul looked at me, I nodded

'Yes'.

"OK, good. Things are about to move quickly. I called Landon and he's

informed the Santa Fe office. Gary and Stephanie are getting a flight

worked out right now. That's at least an eight hour drive or a little

over an hour and a half if they can fly. As you can imagine, this time of

night not many choices are available. We can talk more when you get

here."

I blurted out, "Mr. Wentz, you could have them look into a medical flight.

Those operate 24/7 - they could say they are bringing Amber home after the

surgery." I didn't sound confident about having known about the implants

surgery - which I didn't - or that she had posted the full video the Tumblr graphic had come from, but I pressed on. "I saw a report on this kind of service on the news."

"I'll pass that on Elizabeth, Thank you for that - good idea, no one had

thought of that. See you both shortly."

"Okay Jacob, we'll be there." Paul hung up the phone and began clicking

on his laptop.

I didn't want to revisit our exchange from earlier, so just went with confirming what I knew. "You found out she was meeting some guy and going to Santa Fe for implants?"

He didn't look up. "Yeah, their relationship was a mixed bag of this guy being kink obsessed and her going along with it. She sent him a lot of content that we haven't seen posted anywhere. Likely his request she not share it. Sick bastard. I don't recommend viewing what she has in her 'Sent' folder. He got her hooked on the idea of implants and paying for them. I hope the procedure hasn't already been performed."

I didn't know the man, her 'Daddy', but I had a pretty good idea of how fucked up he was. The other thing was this guy was smart - but not smart enough. While Amber was now of legal age - I was fairly certain a case could be brought against him for his inappropriate contact with her prior to turning eighteen. It didn't take a lawyer to know that. "So all police agencies and the FBI are up to speed?"

He stopped to look at me, "Yes."

It was obvious we weren't going to get along without coming clean, so I started, "Look, I don't know what you know about me. You know, like

shit I wouldn't want exposed, but you, you need to stay in your lane."

"My lane," he asked confused.

"Whatever... Like if you want to know who I am, get to know me. I would kill for friends I could hang with, laugh with, go and do," I paused feeling a lump lodging in my throat, "I'm not that person from three years..." I turned to the kitchen, wiping a tear rolling down my face, and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"I think you're a nice woman, Elizabeth. I did not pry for anything but to know you better. I'm kind of a geek, meeting women has never been easy for me. You intrigued me - I dug. I apologize, again, if I was insensitive. My intentions were to never make you feel uncomfortable."

Paul was still sitting on the couch when I turned back toward him. He looked like this conversation was painful for him - welcome to a slice of my world buddy. I was impressed he identified me as being a woman - which is a landmine of crazy for some out there when the incorrect pronoun, gender, identity is used in their presence - I was thankful for that little win.

"I have a lot to protect myself from, Paul. Every day, nearly every situation, someone or some establishment is trying to knock me out of the game. I've worked very hard to get where I am. I've beaten some crazy shit back in my head. I've tried to commit suicide, which you know well and good is hell for those left behind. I'm just trying to be a good person Paul..." The lump caught abruptly in my throat and the tears flowed now freely as my chest heaved shallowly.

I had closed my eyes and sensed movement, he was standing in front of

me and I let my face fall forward and get buried in his chest. He was holding me steady as my sobs were heaving now, short body shakes, followed by nearly silent crying.

"You're Okay," he cooed while holding me gently in his arms. I wanted to melt away in those arms, to disappear from this Amber crisis and the ugly in the world.

When I had calmed down enough he held me back slightly, I could only stare at the wet spots on his shirt I had created. "You're perfect just the way you

are." That was followed by a kiss to my forehead and another warm embrace.

I had calmed down a minute or so later and with my face pressed to his

chest I managed, "Thank you, Paul..."

He released his hold on me slowly, looking into my now surly puffy eyes and shot makeup. "I can go over to the Carson's' without you, give you a chance to rest up a little."