Page 15 of The Girl and the Lies

“I know. We need to do better about that,” I tell her. “I need to come here more often.”

“Yes, you do,” she says. “Come on and get something cold to drink. It’s blazing out there. You can tell me what you can about the case. Eric said it has something to do with that televangelist woman, Tracy something.”

“Tracy Ellis,” I tell her, following her into the kitchen. “Where’s Bebe?”

I know that both of the little girl’s parents work with the Bureau, and she likely overhears conversations about cases, but I’m always cautious about talking about any of the gruesome details of what I investigate anywhere where her little ears might pick it up. When she was just a baby, it wasn’t as pressing, but now that she’s getting older, it’s more important to protect her from the harsh realities of the things we face every day.

“She’s in her room coloring,” Bellamy says. “We played in the sprinkler earlier, and I think all that sun and everything just wiped her out.”

“I can definitely understand that. I was actually at the pool when Eric called me this morning,” I say.

“He told me.” She reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a pitcher of iced tea while I go to the cabinet to get glasses. “He was saying that he just showed you the presentation that woman did about Terrence Brooks.”

“Yeah,” I say. “After my party, he showed it to me because he thought it might make an impact on the investigation. Neither of us saw this coming.”

“Have you found out anything?” she asks.

“So far not much. I talked to Gideon’s roommate, Jesse, who got attacked when he interrupted the killer but was able to scare him off by shooting at him. He said that Gideon wasn’t very concerned about the threats that he was getting because it’s just something that happens when you work for a person like Tracy Ellis.”

“I can see that,” she says.

“The detective told me that the investigators found wig fibers when they were processing the scene, and one of the neighbors said that when they saw the killer, he had long blond hair sticking out of his ski mask,” I say. “That struck me as really odd. Why go to the effort of wearing a wig if you’re going to wear a ski mask, unless it’s so that the wig is visible? It could mean that they knew they were going to be seen and wanted to have a recognizable feature that would throw people off,” I say.

“I’m curious how this person knew where Gideon lives,” Bellamy says.

“Apparently, several people in the company have gotten threatening letters delivered to their homes, so all of their addresses are known somehow. It could be as simple as they were followed, but there could also be a data breach situation,” I say.

The conversation shifts to other things as we sip our tea and relax. When my temperature has cooled and I feel like I’ve stepped out of work mode for the day, at least as much as I ever do, we start making dinner so it will be ready when Eric gets home. The rest of the evening is spent relaxing and talking, catching up on everything having not seen each other nearly as often as we used to for a long time. When we’re sprawled around the living room watching TV in the dark after Bebe has fallen asleep, I look at my two best friends and wonder at how much things have changed.

For years we lived within a few minutes of each other and saw each other virtually every day. For a long time, Eric and Bellamy had a contentious relationship that essentially put me in the middle and left things tense when we did happen to all be together in the same space. But that frostiness thawed considerably during my first ill-fated undercover job in Feathered Nest, and over time the two fell in love. I rediscovered Sam, and we were suddenly not just three individuals anymore. I moved, our little chosen family expanded, and things shifted so much our lives are nearly unrecognizable. But we’re still together. Even if we don’t have the chance to just pop over and see each other on a whim and working at the Bureau together has taken on some new meaning, these are still some of the most important people in my life, and I feel grateful for the chance to spend time with them. Even with the heaviness of the circumstances hanging over me.

The next morning I arrive at the small headquarters building for Tracy Ellis Ministry and walk up to the reception desk. An older woman with a warm, genuine smile greets me as I approach.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her, showing her my shield. “I’m Agent Emma Griffin with the FBI. I need to speak with Tracy Ellis. Is she in the office today?”

The woman’s face drops, and an expression of concern goes across her eyes. She picks up a phone beside her and hits a button.

“Ms. Ellis, there’s an FBI agent here who wants to speak with you,” she says.

She pauses and listens to the other end of the call. A slightly less enthusiastic smile returns to her face as she hangs up.

“She says you can go on through to her office. It’s at the end of the hallway.” She gestures behind her to a hallway leading away from the lobby area, and I nod.

“Thank you.”

The doors to the office are closed, and a man wearing dark slacks and a branded polo stands outside, his hands clasped in front of him. I show him my shield and tell him that Ellis is expecting me. He knocks on the door and opens it just slightly so he can look inside without letting me see into the office.

“There’s someone here to see you,” he says. “Should I let her in?”

“Yes, Ander. Thank you,” a familiar voice I recognize as a less intense version of the one from the video says.

He pushes the door the rest of the way open, and I walk past him inside. He follows me, and I think of what Jesse said about Tracy Ellis having a security team. Regardless of what he said about her not taking the threats seriously, she clearly feels the need to have protection near her at all times.

“Ms. Ellis?” I ask.

“Tracy please,” she says. “Come in. This is Ander Ward, my head bodyguard. Thank you, Ander. I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

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