A Legal Trap Ch. 11

Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

March 12th, 8:36 PM

"Whoa, Whoa! Elizabeth, you okay? Hey, hey... Just sit still, don't try getting up. Wait," he ordered, "You're alright. Just relax, stay sitting..."

I could hear Paul speaking, feel a hand on my shoulder another trying to get my hair out of my face. I felt woozy and cold, like sweat was cooling my body after a run.

"I'm... good...," I mumbled.

I didn't totally blackout, but this panic attack was one of the worst I'd ever had. I could feel my heart racing still, then an urge to throw up again. I got my head over the toilet in time to dry-heave and cough into the bowl, but nothing came up. I spit a coating of nasty from my mouth into the bowl.

Paul flushed the toilet to get rid of the vomit, "Guess the Buffalo wing sauce didn't sit well?"

Wing sauce? Ah, that explains the fiery burning and red liquid I'd spewed into the toilet. Guess I'm not bleeding internally. Well, probably not bleeding internally. I took a few slow breaths, and then tilted my head toward Paul, "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled, "You're kidding right? Don't worry about it. You cool just sitting there?"

"Yeah..."

He pulled my hair back and let it fall over my shoulders, then tentatively removed his hand from my shoulder keeping me steady. When I didn't fall over he moved to the sink. I heard water running and a moment later he was placing a wet, cool washcloth on my neck.

He handed me a damp hand towel, "Here, wanna maybe wipe your face? I can take you to a hospital."

NO! Please no! No hospital! I shook my head, 'No' slowly and took the hand towel so I could wipe my face. I spit a few times to get the acrid aftertaste out of my mouth.

"Can you grab my bottle of water?"

"I'll get you a new one. Don't go anywhere."

"Yeah, sure..." I felt a little disoriented, but things were in focus and I could hear Paul trot off to get me a new bottle of water.

Okay, I'm aware of my surroundings. RELAX! I thought about that, how many times does telling yourself to relax really do a damn thing? Pretty much never... Breathe. I needed to straighten my shit out quick or Paul was going to insist on a trip to the emergency room. God, no hospital! That would make this panic attack even more uncomfortable adding another thing to stress over. Breathe.

"Here... I wouldn't guzzle that or anything. Give your system a chance to reset. Small sips."

He sounded pretty motherly right now, but I really did appreciate him being here. Wanna get over this? Think about him. If he wasn't here where would you be? Wedged between the toilet and bathtub. I cracked the slightest of smiles.

"What's funny?"

I didn't realize Paul could see me in the mirror in front of the vanity - even though he was behind me,

"Nothing... I just feel stupid right now."

"Yeah, well its been a pretty packed couple days for you. Be nice to get the hell out of here and back to your real life."

What did that mean? If I go back to Seattle that's it, I don't get to see you again? I felt a pang in my gut, an uncomfortable rolling in my stomach. Why did I have a headache? Augh!

"You know, you'll have to deal with me back there. I mean, I'm not Bryant caliper barista extraordinaire or anything," he said.

What? He's messing with me! Why do I go to the extreme worst case ever time?!

"Hey, I'd like up off the floor, think you can help me to the bed?"

"Really? You're in the middle of a panic attack and all you can think about is getting me in bed?"

"Haha... Not funny. I mean, it is... Just not right now."

I extended my hand, but he hugged me beneath my arms and got me standing. I felt good enough to walk, but let him keep an arm around me until I was sitting on the bed.

"You sure you wanna lay down?"

"Mmm, yeah. I think I'm about over this. Maybe the Xanax kicked in a little before I threw it up."

"Alright then," he said before spinning my feet around slowly and helped me lay back, "You good?"

"You told me I was. You questioning that now?" I tried smiling and pulled at the comforter.

Paul chuckled and helped pull it over me, "Yeah, guess I did. I'll stand by that still. Let me refresh your wash cloth," he was heading to the bathroom while pulling out his phone.

"Hey Tim... Jacob said you want what we have got on the investigation tonight."

That was the last I could hear clearly before he went into the bathroom. I could hear the water running, then he was back, "Yeah, that's the last stuff, we got some email stuff to turn over. Some VPN ideas."

Paul put the cool wash cloth on my forehead, "Yeah, that was a bit of a surprise." Silence, "Thirty minutes...," a pause, "No, just me, we can call Elizabeth after we're done..." He was smiling at me, "Sure, see you in a few."

He put his phone away and was studying my face.

"I can go. I'm fine."

"It's going to be tech stuff and I know how that crap thrills you. Stay here, Tim can call you for your statement about where you were which, might involve telling him about, well, last night."

At first I wasn't following, then I got it, 'last night...' - which was actually more like this morning, he left my room at 2 AM, which was technically is this morning. I would have just said last night we were together. Why can't I think clearly?

"Think that will raise any eyebrows," I asked. I was studying his face for a sign telling someone we were together was going to be a problem. It didn't seem to faze him.

"Not gonna bother me... You?"

I just smiled. Are you reading my mind Mr. Kline?

March 12th, 9:25 PM

I answered my phone on the first ring, "This is Elizabeth..."

"Elizabeth Gallagher, I'm Special Agent Timothy Warren of the FBI, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

"Yes, I, I can answer questions," and as soon as I said that I felt foolish, but I was very much awake and focused. I can do this, just relax.

"Thank you... Miss, there really isn't an easy way to ask this, but well, first I want to inform you that this call is being recorded. You are not obligated to answer my questions without the presence of an attorney. I am not reading you your Miranda Rights, this call is an informal whereabouts check - do you understand that you do have a right to refuse to answer my questions at any time."

I knew he had to state some specifics, but it was no less daunting to hear his little preamble. "Yes Agent Warren, I understand."

"Alright, as I stated, there is no easy way to ask this and I want you to know I respect your privacy, but I have to ask your legal name for the record. After you answer, you can request that I refer to you going forward however best makes you comfortable. Understood?"

"Yes, Agent Warren. My legal name is Edward Anson Gallagher, I would prefer to be addresses as Elizabeth."

I didn't fault Tim, since this was an official inquiry, he had hoops to jump through. Why hadn't I at least gotten my name changed officially before this? Yeah, that reason would be lack of money. I wondered if he would allow me to call him Tim.

"Thank you Elizabeth. Can you tell me if you have a cell phone?"

Alright, that's an interesting starter, "Yes Agent Warren, you are speaking to me on my cell phone currently. I assume you got my number from my employer?" I wonder if...

"Actually Mr. Kline made your number available to me, I hope that's alright."

"It is..." Then I figured out the ask - they could track the phone. They'll see it wasn't out of the general Phoenix area.

"Did you leave the Phoenix area at any time during the last twenty-four hours?"

And this answer would dovetail into the tracking of my phone, "No, I did not."

Tim went on to ask for people I came into contact with since noon yesterday and I rattled that off quickly, including being with Paul until 2 AM this morning and a good part of today. I told him I could produce a receipt from my breakfast this morning and likely a statement from the server. He actually chuckled at that offer and we wrapped up our official "alibi" conversation, which is what the purpose of this call was. Tim did mention that the Phoenix Police would be repeating this call with me tomorrow and he apologized in advance for that. I told him it wasn't a problem.

"OK, that ends this interview. Elizabeth do you have any questions for me?"

"No, I'm good."

There was a chuckle in the background, "Hold on..." There was a clicking sound, then, "You likely recognize the chuckle Elizabeth. I've got you on speakerphone. Say hello Paul."

"Hello Paul," Paul said in a funny sounding voice.

"You're an idiot. You know that, right," Tim said.

"Hi Liz," Paul chimed in after that exchange.

"Hello Mr. Kline," was dry my reply.

"Elizabeth, Paul handed over the email chain and detailed your intentions, I like it. Too bad we didn't get anything from the email. Excellent try though. Paul mentioned you spoke to Amber Carson and she said the person from the chat room may not have been David Lafleur?"

"Agent Warren, may I call you Tim?"

"Oh God, yes please!"

"Thanks Tim. Yes, I think that's what she was going to tell me, that it was someone else."

"Do you recall what you asked her and her answer?"

"Think I asked something like 'Was that David or someone else?' and she started to reply 'It was someone...' and that's when her father grabbed the phone. He wasn't too happy with either of us."

"So she didn't say specifically that it was someone else?" He annunciated the word 'else'.

"No, but given how our conversation was going I think I backed her into having no other option but to tell me that."

Tim interrupted me, "You backed her into a corner? Can you explain that?"

After Paul had left I got up and took another.25 mg Xanax because I knew this call was going to stress me out. I had no idea how much of the drug was in my system keeping my 'fight or flight' adrenaline rush from tipping me over after barfing earlier, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I was really scared of going down the crazy barfing route again or passing out or freaking the fuck out. Even fortified now I could feel the flutter in my chest, the slight tightening of my stomach. FBI agents were smart, Tim was no exception, even as a tech focused junkie like Paul. Just answer the question, don't over-think it.

"Tim, Amber and I have had two conversations. I wouldn't say we're buds, but in this last one I pretty much called bullshit on some of the crap she was saying about David Lafleur. Not sure it was the right tact, but in the end I told her we knew about her chat room conversation with 'FlowerGirl', we knew about a planned meeting next week, and I asked her if it was David. I'm pretty sure she was going to tell me it wasn't and now with his murder in Vancouver, well that might make sense it wasn't him talking to her."

That was the first time I'd spoken the word 'murder' aloud. Paul and I hadn't even discussed it before he left to meet Tim.

"You might be right. We checked her email for a reply on your last sent message, nice job on that one by-the-way, no reply yet. I have everything Paul was working on, so I'll be moving forward with that, including trying to trace the VPN activity. Paul told me that Jacob wants you to assist with an agent interview of Amber tomorrow. That's awesome, your rapport with her should make that go easier."

"I'll be assisting an FBI agent in her interview? No one told me that..."

Paul chimed in, "Jacob and Landon worked that out Elizabeth, you won't be running it or anything, mostly just there to be an advocate for Amber in case she needs someone to confide in or advice. It will only be the three of you, so shouldn't be too bad."

Are you kidding? Are you serious! I'm going to be with some agent grilling this teen who is full of herself? Fuck! How do I get out of this?

"When is this happening?"

"Tomorrow morning, 11 AM," Tim replied.

Great! Fucking great! I answered a few other questions for Tim and then it was obvious we were done. Paul mentioned he would stop by after he got back to the hotel. I told him I was going to take a shower and going to bed, that I still wasn't feeling great. He sounded disappointed, but I just wasn't in the mood. Too much had happened over the last couple hours and I needed to shut everything down. I did hope I didn't embarrass him in front of Tim by declining his request.

After the call ended I got a text from Paul a couple minutes later, 'U OK?'

I replied, 'Yes, just wasted'

'OK. Breakfast? 9 AM?'

I replied, 'CU then.'

'Good night, hope you feel better. Call me if you need anything.'

'I will. I feel a lot better, just tired. Good night - XO'

And the conversation ended. Now the room seemed very quiet. There was no way I was getting up to take a shower, though I'm sure I needed one. I shimmied out of my jeans, worked the gaff and tape off, then my blouse and bra - I left my socks on. The AC was droning and I rolled over - hit the light on the nightstand after plugging my phone in. Time to check out.

March 13th, 10:47 AM

I could only get myself to eat toast and a banana at breakfast. Paul seemed like he was full of energy. I felt like I was eating my last meal before being taken to the electric chair, which in reality was entering an interview room at the FBI building. Paul talked a lot, I tried to smile and keep my emotions in check. I wished I was back at breakfast right now.

We had arrived early to the FBI offices. Why couldn't we have been late? I did get a few moments with Jacob prior to meeting the agent who was going to interview Amber. He reassured me I had the full support of the Carson's and that this interview was exploratory in nature, but it did have an urgency factor given what had happened to David Lafleur. I wanted to tell him I wasn't prepared for this, but before I had a chance an agent interrupted us and took me to the interview room.

When I entered the room there were four chairs and an attractive woman looking over notes on a legal pad. She stood, extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Special Agent Carr. You must be Elizabeth Gallagher."

Her face was all smile, one of those that showed way too many teeth. She was polite, dressed impeccably (as expected), and she certainly had the look of someone not to be underestimated.

"Yes, nice to meet you," I said and shook her hand.

She pointed to a chair across from her and I sat, "I like your skirt, Calvin Klein. I have one just like it."

I nodded and thought - there's no way you shop at second hand stores.

"So, I've talked to Agent Warren and he's detailed some of the specifics we're looking for today. He mentioned you might have had a breakthrough with Amber Carson last night regarding the chat room, is that right?"

"Yes, but we were interrupted by her father." I wondered what else Tim had told her.

"Agent Warren said he was a little angry?"

"Understandably so, he's trying to keep his daughter in check," I replied, feeling a little confidence building.

I knew I could hold my own with Agent Carr, I had skills, and that would be a confidence boost that keep the anxiety away. She hadn't given me her first name, so this was likely the extent of our buddy / buddy rapport. I didn't feel like she was judging me yet, so we were off to a good start. Don't over-think this.

"Why do you think she got involved with David Lafleur?"

"That's something you should ask her. You might have to read between the lines to pick up the reasoning though. Could be validation, could be the thrill factor. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she replied earnestly.

"Do you know much about being Trans? Sexual dysphoria?"

"To be honest, I'm not in my element regarding Transgender studies. I'm a USC graduate with a Masters in Psychology. I understand the dimensions, the breadth of sexual dysphoria, but to say I know everything related to something so complex would be foolhardy. I've performed many psychological examinations / evaluation for the bureau, so it was felt by Director Keith I might be a less scary, non-adversarial interviewer. I can assure you we just want to find out what we can, as delicately as we can."

I think I was beginning to warm up this woman. She put on no airs, no falsehoods.

"Thank you for that, I will assist as best I..."

There was a knock at the door, both Agent Carr and I stood as Amber was brought into the interview room. She looked nervous. Agent Carr handled the introductions, set some basic ground rules, and assured Amber that nothing she said would lead to any legal problems for her. She sounded to be reading the same introductory script I had been given last night by Tim. Agent Carr asked if Amber had any questions, she nodded 'No'.

"Amber, do you recall when you first meet David Lafleur," Agent Carr asked.

"No, it was last year though, maybe around summer? It was maybe about the time I went back to school."

"You are a senior this year, congratulations. Do you have problems in school, like bullying? We noticed your Facebook account is pretty sparse for a teenage girl."

"No more than anyone else. My mom kept my Facebook account free of the couple idiots who initially tried to start crap. She shut those people down pretty quick. There were plenty of times she went to the school district to get people off my case. I just didn't post there because it was more of a pain than it was worth and she was monitoring it pretty much daily. I don't care what people think of me," she replied.

"How did you meet David Lafleur?"

"He subscribed to my webcam sessions," she said with more confidence than I would have been able to muster, "I'd like to know if you have arrested David."

Here we go I thought. Agent Carr looked at something on her note pad, scribbled a '+' sign next to something she'd written, then looked at Amber for a moment, "The Royal Canadian Mounted Police were dispatched to arrest Mr. Lafleur in Vancouver, British Columbia yesterday. They really haven't told us much about it Amber. They know we want him extradited back to the States so he can face charges here, but that's not going to happen quickly. That's really all I know at this point."

"What charges? He didn't do anything," she protested.

"Amber, I think we know that's not entirely true. You just told me he subscribed to your webcam sessions. That would mean you were still a minor and at a minimum he could be charged with Sexual Exploitation of a Minor. But, let's not get wrapped up in those things because Canada will need to figure out the laws he broken there before we..."

Amber interrupted Agent Carr, "That's not how it happened!"

"We have your statement Amber and we have more than enough interaction between you and Mr. Lafleur over the past six months from your Tumblr account and Patreon subscription service."

I thought, please don't add that Paul and I helped get you that information.

"I want to talk to him. I'm not telling you anything until I talk to him," she said with a little less confidence than her voice belayed.

"Amber, if you really want to help David, you'll help us by answering our questions. Something you tell us could help him and I promise you this, we will supply his lawyers every bit of information they request. You have my word on that."

Oh my God, I was believing this woman! She was slick and she just personalized Lafleur in their conversation by referring to him as David. She eased into that so effortlessly.

"Fine..."

Legally, Lafleur's lawyers would have to be presented with a listing of evidence intended to be use against him so his defense could prepare, that included witnesses. Amber was being played, but not necessarily being lied too, well maybe a little. Agent Carr continued, but it was like a reset, a couple non-threatening questions, then one about her subscription income. Amber was talking, less like the bitchy teen I'd run into and more like, like maybe her parents told her to knock this shit off and come clean? I hadn't said a word since the interview started and we were nearly ten minutes into it.