Truth or Lies? by A. Gomez (books to get back into reading TXT) 📕

smirked, thankful my father was in the car business and all we did at the dinner table was talk car talk. Now, I was curious to find out if they knew what I was asking. If they knew that punching out a cat meant to empty out your catalytic converter.

“The noise is not so bad,” I continued. “How did you get it past inspection?”

“I didn’t,” he finally answered. “My tag is fake. My friend make it for me and no cops know.” He and Frank laughed their weasel laugh. The sound was so awful it sent shivers down my spine.

“What about a high-flow cat-back exhaust system?” I asked, trying to get as much information as possible. “It felt like it had a lot of torque when we were getting away. Do you have that in place?”

He turned his head, dumbfounded. “No, I did cold air intake.”

“I can tell. Your car is louder than normal but still to where no cop will notice.” I looked down at Betty Lou, stroking her hair again and carefully glancing at my phone. Crap! It was at one percent. I was running out of ideas. I then saw that we were approaching a house. A very large house. In fact, this was a mansion size house. I somehow had to describe the mansion before my phone died.

“Oh my. This isn’t a house this is a mansion and it looks like we’re driving into a compound,” I said. “It’s surrounded by high walls and lots and lots of trees. It’s actually gorgeous here.” I was surprised. “Y’all said I was right about going to a house but this is no house. This is a mansion inside a compound.”

We stopped beside a small silver box where Tony punched in a code and looked up at a security camera. The massive gates began to open, letting us in. We went over a bump and onto the long driveway toward the mansion. I snuck another glance at my phone. Dead. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. I hoped Josh was able to hear the last of the one-sided conversation. Slowly and stealthily I placed my phone back in my purse. Betty Lou sat up and was gripping me for dear life. I held her close to me, needing a little comfort myself. My heart leapt into my throat and my adrenaline began to surge. I was terrified out of my mind, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to protect Betty Lou.

Frank opened the door, moving the front seat forward so Betty Lou and I could get out. I clasped Betty’s hand and gingerly helped her out with me. She immediately scooted closer to me and held my hand in a death grip. I mentally said a prayer, asking for superhuman strength and the wherewithal to escape this place in one piece with Betty Lou.

I looked up and around to see if I could see where exactly this place was. Wherever this place was, it was beautiful. I couldn’t see any neighbors on either side. All I saw were trees, landscaping and a lot of wall. Landscape lighting illuminated the house, trees and landscaping. It was all very appealing to the eye and picturesque. In fact, I would say the house and its surroundings would make for a great article on getaway homes in Architectural Digest.

The drive from the silver box to the front of the house must have been at least twenty-five yards if not more. We were very secluded and it all seemed very private. When the wind blew, the only noises I heard were the crickets and some rustling from the trees and shrubs. Perhaps the occasional wind chime or two, but I couldn’t tell where that sound was coming from. The two men ushered us to the front door and inside the mansion. I felt like we were walking into the perfect storm and we would soon be lost in a perfect nightmare. I gazed down at Betty Lou; her eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty and she was still shivering from the cold. I wished I had my jacket to drape over her. What kind of mother dressed or allowed her underage child to dress in summer clothes when it was late November in Chicago? If we got out of this alive, I was going to make sure Betty did not go back with her mother.

We walked in and the first thing I saw was a very majestic staircase with wrought-iron railings and steps made out of marble. The steps were so large they looked as if they belonged in a palace. The foyer was an elegant copy of something out of Versailles with an expensive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above us. There were four oversized, emerald-green velvet chairs, two to the left and two to the right of the massive front doors. All looked plush and inviting. A large glass table accented the entryway in the middle of the spacious foyer with an expensive crystal vase on it. The vase held lilies. I could smell them as soon as we walked in. They were stunning. This wasn’t just a mansion; this was a palatial, behemoth estate with expensive lighting and furniture. It was all breathtaking. I was oddly eager to see the rest of the house.

“Wow!” Betty Lou whispered.

“I think you’re right,” I muttered. “Wow.”

Tony was walking toward another room and Frank pushed us to follow him. Frank was considerably shorter than me but very thick and stocky. His gait and carriage were odd looking when he walked. His torso looked longer than his legs and when he walked he took two steps to my one. He kind of reminded me of an alligator walking. If we were back home I think the folks there would nickname him Gator Leg. I grinned inwardly at the thought. Tony looked to be a little taller