FLESH: The Disappearance of Portia Barrington by Keith Lee Johnson

Author:Keith Lee Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Dare To Imagine Publishing
Published: 2010-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

I

said, “Now what would make you erase every number in your phone, Reilly? What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” she said defiantly, trying to appear brave, but she came off like a frightened little girl.

I said, “We can help you get out of the trouble you’re in.”

“I’m not in any trouble.”

I exhaled and said, “Reilly, we know you’re into prostitution. We know you’re selling yourself to older men.”

“No, I’m not!” She screamed, as if screaming somehow authenticated her claims. “I would never do anything like that.”

What most people didn’t get about lying was that you should never get angry about a false accusation. Getting angry about a lie only makes you look guiltier. Acting as if you’re outraged by a statement that has no basis in truth, should have a calming effect because you’re probably guilty of something you’re not being accused of. Everyone has secrets and because you’re being accused of something you didn’t do, as opposed to something you did do, should put you at ease. Poor liars don’t know this simple truth, which is why they get caught and eventually tell everything they know. Now that I had successfully gotten Reilly riled up, it was just a matter of reeling her in before whoever she called arrived.

I looked at Kelly and nodded.

She left the room.

Then I looked at Reilly and said, “Yes you would sell yourself and you have done it many times. And so did your best friend, Portia.” Here’s where I began to improvise to get the truth. At this point, all I had to do was accuse her of something she was innocent of and she would provide the answers we were looking for. I was shaking my head when I said, “It’s over, Reilly. You were the one who got the whole thing going. And you got your best friend Portia involved. If she dies because of you, you’ll be an accessory to the crime. We’re talking thirty years minimum of hard time with harden women who are going to eat you alive your first day in. And you’ll have 10,949 days of abuse left.”

Reilly started crying. “I didn’t get Portia involved. She got me involved. Portia got all of us involved.”

I fought off burgeoning delight, knowing I had her now. She was mine.

Kelly rolled a cart in with a television and a DVD player. She plugged it in and then returned to her seat.

I said, “Reilly Vanderpool, you’re under arrest for solicitation and obstruction of justice.”

Kelly Mirandized her.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Reilly said through unrelenting tears.

“All of who?” Kelly said. “Portia got all of who involved.”

“I want immunity,” Reilly said, wiping her eyes.

I looked at Kelly and tried not to laugh.

Then I handed Reilly a box of tissue and said, “Sure, we’ll give you immunity and witness protection too.” I remembered Portia’s computer and the link: The Jaguar Club. It was worth a shot so I went for it. “We know about the Jaguar Club, too, Reilly.”

Reilly stopped crying and looked into my eyes.

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