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

she gets herself into wherever she’s at,” I continued, “and then there’s the question, is she getting herself into trouble with someone else? She works with a lot of men who are always propositioning her.”

He whirled, a look of panic on his face. I winked at him grinning.

“I knew that would get you,” I said teasingly. “You’re already a very serious and professional person, Ben, but this was a little too serious even for you,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about… Belín is no Patti Peaches,” I added.

He chuckled lightly, “God bless the man that gets you, Isabel Grace. You absolutely keep people on their toes.”

I smiled inwardly, remembering my uncle’s words, “the man that loves Isabel Grace will need divine patience.” “Yes, I have heard that before,” I told him.

Ben moved toward my desk and stood there in silence. We looked at each other, smiling, both nodding our heads. It felt weird. I needed to say something.

“Yeah…so…I kind of need to get to work here, so…”

“Sure, sure, I’ll just make a quick run of the floor, make sure everything’s secure. You know, all that good stuff,” he said.

I nodded, already looking at my emails as Ben left my office. Surprisingly, I didn’t have that many that were related to my cases. Most of them were regarding meetings and minutes on those meetings. I opened the first set of minutes to skim through it and refresh my memory before I filed it. I opened the next set of minutes and skimmed through those, not remembering ever being at that meeting. Was I zoned out at that one? I just couldn’t recall having attended that particular meeting. I looked at who the sender was and it was from someone named Chex at the DA’s office. I began to read it more carefully; maybe it would jog my memory. Nothing in those minutes sounded familiar. I was about to call Pam to let her know I was forwarding the minutes to her, thinking she could’ve been the one at the meeting, when I read the words, “…escaped from a possible sex trafficking operation.” I placed the phone back on its receiver and continued to read:

“…the girl is sixteen years of age; her name is Alexandra (Alex)…

Alex was reunited with her parents and sibling…

Has claimed someone (a man) helped her escape…

Escaped with another girl by the name of Tori…

Girls heard of safe haven/group therapy where help may be available to them...”

I was floored, frozen in my chair reading. Who sent this to me? Who was Chex with the DA’s office? Was it a nickname for a new ADA? I checked the date and time it was sent: Monday, today, at five in the morning. That was extremely early for anyone to be at the DA’s office, but very probable.

I quickly called our receptionist. “Vanessa, please bring me your most updated roster of assistant district attorneys with the DA’s office.” I printed the minutes and email and stapled everything together. Vanessa walked in with a copy of the roster. I frantically started going through three pages worth of names. Nothing. I went through the roster again, slower this time. Still nothing. I decided to call the main number to the DA’s office and see if they knew the answer.

Virginia, the assistant to the District Attorney, answered the phone. Sounding surprised at my question yet finding it amusing, she laughed but quickly realized I was serious so she transferred me to the child abuse division. I went through the same scenario with that receptionist but only this time she told me two people were there earlier than everyone else today but neither of them were named Chex or had a nickname close to that. She told me she could transfer me to another division.

I was transferred at least half a dozen times and every time they sounded surprised and laughed but had no information on who Chex may be. Clearly someone out there knew who I was and may be trying to help me and these girls. I was rocking back and forth in my chair re-reading the printed copy while chanting “Chex, Chex, Chex, Chex,” thinking somehow this would help me decipher the clue. Ben walked in and found me talking to myself, chuckling at my quirkiness.

“Ben,” I handed him the papers I had printed. “Read this. I think this girl may show up tonight.” My phone rang and it was Vanessa calling me about a consult that was needed in the ER. I asked her to transfer it to Patti but she had already left for court. I asked her to send the call to any of the other two doctors and she said I was the only one in the office besides Pam. I pursed my lips and told her to let them know I would be right there.

I hung up the phone in a huff. “I have to get to ER for a consult,” I said, irritated. “Can you walk and read, Ben, or will you let me go on my own?”

Ben didn’t answer and just stood up, motioning for me to go out the door first.

“That’s what I thought,” I stated, half smiling. “By the way, are my mother and Belín still eating? Are they coming up here at all?”

“I just spoke with Belín and it seems as though your mother has run into an old friend. A Doctor Fitzsimmons?” he said, somewhat asking. “Isn’t he the new hospital president?”

“Uncle Fitz?” I exclaimed excitedly. “He’s the new president? This is news to me!”

“Uncle?” Ben eyed me confused.

I laughed, “Yeah, we call him Uncle Fitz. His name is Patrick Fitzsimmons. My mother and he dated in college and just ended up going their separate ways once he got into medical school and she went off to graduate school. Of course, they’re both married to