Watch Out for the Big Girls (15 page)

The day had been going smoothly just like any other day for Careese Pearson at her Bank of America job. She had been a bank teller for six years strong now. She was still shocked and surprised by her supervisor's offer. She wondered if she should take those extra hours her boss had just offered her.
With a raise? Why not?
she thought. Up until today, they weren't even getting along. Maybe he had finally come around and noticed how good a worker she was. She kept her breaks brief. She was out of the way and completely off the radar, just like she had always been instructed to be. Maintaining a legit high-end job was a golden rule of the Double G. Every day she awoke, she made sure she protected both her job and her affiliation with the organization she had been a part of for the past five years, thanks to her recruiter, Diamond.

Careese's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden burst into the bank. A sense of panic jolted her body at the thought of a bank robbery. That thought was immediately excused when she noticed the bold letters on the back of the intruders' jackets. Federal agents spilled into the bank one after the other. Like all the other workers, she wondered what was going on. She didn't have to wonder too long. She noticed the agents seemed to be headed in her direction.

Agent McCarthy was the first to reach her. “Careese Pearson? We need you to come with us,” he announced with authority.

Careese's heart dropped into her plus-sized panties. She feared the worst and was right. She just wondered what they knew.

Two agents wasted no time. “Sorry, ma'am,” the two agents sang in unison as they grabbed hold of each of her arms and gently placed them behind her back. She dropped her head low in embarrassment as she was escorted out of the bank by the agents. They were so focused on her that they had never noticed the teller who was working next to her quickly swipe up her cell phone and fade into the background.

Since the two had become close she had learned a lot about Careese Pearson, which was why she didn't object when her friend instructed her months ago to contact someone for her if anything was to ever happen to her. Olivia Brown knew this warranted that something she had referred to. She looked around nervously. While they conducted their arrest and search of Careese's station, Olivia slipped into a blind spot.

She typed in the four-digit pass code she had been given and told to remember. Once it was open, she pulled up the contact and began texting away. As all of the agents were making their way out of the bank, with her friend in cuffs, she awaited an acknowledging response. She nervously glanced from the agents back down to the phone. She used her thumb to scroll through the phone until the only programmed number stored in it that belonged to her only friend popped up.

* * *

Meanwhile, downtown in the old Las Vegas area, the Black Yukon Denali sped away, cutting through traffic. It pulled up to the back of this huge, tinted-glass building with assorted federal vehicles parked around it. The agent who was driving flashed his badge at the camera and waved. The gate rolled up and the Yukon drove through the dark underground tunnel. It went the entire length and came into a large lit area. There was nothing else there but an elevator. The agents got out and looked up at the overhead camera. Moments later, the metal gate opened. They escorted Careese out of the SUV and into the elevator.

Up until that point, she hadn't said a word and neither had the agents. They just mean mugged her and handled her roughly. She masked her nervousness with a sarcastic smirk at every agent who looked at her with blatant disgust, showing that the feeling was mutual.

The elevator stopped on the seventh floor. She was steered down a long, carpeted walkway. There were agents everywhere trying to act casual, but cutting their eyes at her as they bounced around from office cube to office cube. Phones rang, fax machines beeped, and the stench of stale coffee was in the air. At the end of the hall was a large white door, which also had a camera facing down at them. Someone behind the scenes had to press buttons all day.
Damn. They don't even trust their own,
she thought. They stepped through and into a narrow hallway with six doors on each side. She was placed in the second room on the right.

Agent McCarthy yanked her by her elbow and sat her at the wood grain table. “Have a seat,” he ordered.

She looked the opposite way of him with full attitude, but did as she was told. Agent McCarthy walked around her. He leaned in over her shoulder from behind her, resting the palm of his left hand on the table, and he whispered into her ear, “We're going to put you and the rest of them away for life.” He then rose back up and exited the room.

Careese jumped from the slamming sound the metal door made. She was left in the cold room by herself. But not really alone, she knew. There was a two-way mirror on both full-length walls, one in front of her and one in back. There was a built-in audio recorder that sat in the center of the table where many confessions and helpful information had been exchanged at the expense of the lives of others.

She looked around to study the rest of the room. There was a camera above the door, pointing down at her. The carpeted floor was gray and there were no windows.

All track of time was lost. When left alone and under pressure, minutes felt like hours. But Careese did her best to maintain her composure, despite her current predicament. She knew it was in her best interest to keep cool. She had been groomed and prepped for situations such as the one she was in. She was well aware that Agent McCarthy was trying to intimidate her. But she knew there was nothing he could do or say worse than what would happen to her if she did open her mouth about anything.

“I'd like to call my attorney,” she exercised her rights. She wanted Agent McCarthy to know she wasn't a pushover. She knew he was listening and watching.

To no surprise to her, the room's door flew open and Agent McCarthy reemerged. He walked around to where she had a full view of him. He now stood directly in front of her, with only the table between them. He placed both fists on the wooden tabletop and leaned in until they were face to face. “You sure about that?” A shit-eating grin appeared across his face.

He was so close she could smell his lunch and cheap aftershave. The foul stench tickled her nose. She couldn't believe he sported the old-school fragrance she had recognized. She didn't think men wore Brute 22 anymore.

“Yes, I'm sure.” She rolled her eyes as she answered.

Agent McCarthy raised his fists from the table. “Okay, suit yourself.” He sighed. “Ms. Careese Lavern Pearson, you are under arrest for conspiracy to operate under the management of organized crime. You have the right to remain silent.” Agent McCarthy informed her of the offenses she was being charged with then began reading her Miranda rights.

He smiled on the inside as he observed Careese Pearson's demeanor change from stoic to shocked.

Her heels were heard echoing as they tapped the hard marble floor when she cleared through the revolving doors. All attention was drawn to her as she dominantly strutted by a circle of stars: the Federal Bureau logo. She confidently approached the front desk and set her Armani Exchange briefcase on top of the high wood grain horseshoe-shaped countertop. She looked down at the middle-age officer who was sitting low in the front of a brass desk, lamp shining down on the logbook. A younger officer was standing at full attention in front of the metal detector checking her out, admiring her beauty. He noticed how her deep, dark skin glowed, despite no sunlight or any form of bright lighting being in the building.

Standing at an even six feet, naturally, she was tall for a woman, but the heels embellished her height even more. Her jet-black long, thick hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail revealing the natural slant of her eyes. The click-clack sound made by her six-inch heels resembled that of a prize-winning thoroughbred's trot. Her thin platinum Cartier French frames sat at the end of the bridge of her nose just below her high cheekbones. Occasionally she would push them back up with her manicured pointer finger to prevent them from slipping off of her face as she strutted through the precinct building. Her diamond earrings sparkled along with her thin platinum chain with a single diamond pendant. Her breasts protruded at the top of her blouse, allowing the pendant to lie just above her cleavage. It rose up with each step she took. Her silk blouse was white, covered by a dark gray blazer that matched the bottom half of her two-piece skirt suit. Anyone who trailed behind her would have perfect access to the perfect heart-shaped, plump ass that filled up her skirt. She had hips for days and her long, vibrant legs were massive. Her ass poked out and the under cuff revealed the slight imprint of her Elle Macpherson boy shorts.

As the young officer eyed her from head to toe, he saw that her right leg sported an expensive-looking diamond anklet that sat over the strap of her Manolo Blahniks stilettos. Her bright red lipstick parted to reveal her perfect teeth as she smiled at the younger deputy before looking back down and handing the front desk officer her ID and business credentials. He studied both and then looked back up at her with a smile before entering her into the logbook.

“You want to go right up to the seventh floor,” he stated. “He'll escort you to the elevator, ma'am,” he added as he pointed over to the standing officer who was pleased to perform his duty.

“Thank you,” she replied while pulling her briefcase down to her side. She adjusted her frames as she strolled through the walk-through metal detector.

The younger officer was really hoping the alarm would ring off until she would have to be forced to strip naked.

As she cleared it she spread her arms wide for him to scan her with the hand device.
Damn Feds don't trust oxygen,
she thought as she passed him her briefcase.

He set it on an X-ray machine and watched the screen as it went through. He then escorted her to the elevator. “Have a nice day.” He politely bowed, tipping his hat.

“I always do,” she retorted as the elevator doors shut him out and her in.
And this is my favorite part of it,
she continued to herself, smiling. She then turned to the elevator officer. “Seventh floor, please,” she declared, turning on her full attitude. The curtain had just been raised. The show was on. Diamond stared at the numbers as the elevator climbed upward. She put her game face on as the elevator's dial lit up on the number seven.

Just a few doors up the hallway, “That's bullshit!” were the words Careese Pearson spewed and Agent Donahue walked in on as he entered the interrogation room.

Agent Donahue was a middle-aged white agent who had been in the Bureau for as long as Tom McCarthy. McCarthy's presence was scary and uninviting. He was huge with broad shoulders. His jaw line structure was frightening. His upright posture was still as strong as it was in his college football days. His wide frame left no extra space in his suit. His voice was convicting. Donahue was the exact opposite. He was smooth, friendly, diplomatic, and deceivingly frail. Above all, he was extremely smart.

“No, sweetheart! This is all real,” Agent McCarthy retorted. “We have evidence proving that you are in fact a part of the Double G organization,” he bellowed. “And that you also helped murder two young, innocent agents! That's capital punishment! Lethal injection!” He laid it on thick, wondering if he had gone overboard with his interrogation tactic. He was in a zone though. “What do you think, Agent Donahue?” he aggressively called out, noticing the agent's sudden presence. He then drew his attention back to Careese, whose eyes were now wider than they were previously.

Agent Donahue's tone was soft. “No, no, Agent McCarthy. She did no such thing. They manipulated her. It's not her fault. They set her up to take the fall. She was clearly just caught up with the wrong people. Unfortunately, they're hanging her out to dry,” he calmly explained with his face in her opposite ear.

“To dry?” Agent McCarthy released a sarcastic laugh. “No. More like to burn!” he yelled into her other ear, shaking her up. “Look at the pictures!” he demanded, forcing her to view the autopsy photos of Agents Mullin and Craven, and the other ones from the crime scene. “They got off a lot easier than you will. You're going to be alive to suffer your death!” he yelled, sending chills through her.

“No, she won't,” Donahue calmly intervened. “She's here to help us. She doesn't like what happened to those poor young agents any more than we do. We have her full cooperation from here on out. Don't we, Ms. Pearson?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Her face was sandwiched between them both as she looked down at the brutal pictures spread all over the table.

Careese didn't know what to do or say. They were coming at her so hard, left and right. She couldn't escape the balanced attack of their voices. They were in her head, thinking for her. They barely even asked her questions. She started to get scared.
Lethal injections? Life? Am I ready for that? But I made a vow,
she reasoned.
Double Gs for life,
chimed in her head. Her options were not good. Her heart rate rose as she began to panic. It was getting hot. No, the air conditioner was on full blast, she remembered. It was freezing.
Well, it was a minute ago. What do I do? Does anyone even know I'm here? I'm all by myself. They're going to fry me. No. I didn't do anything. Did I?
Her mind was all over the place. She tried to shake it off. They were fucking with her, she knew. Her thoughts were interrupted.

“Listen.” Donahue set his attention on Careese and then looked over at McCarthy. “Where's your hospitality? Get the lady some coffee while I speak to her in private, will you?” he asked in a delicate tone.

“All right. But I'll be right back. And when I return, she's mine!” he announced before he exited.

Careese shook as the door slammed shut behind Agent McCarthy. As Donahue took a seat directly across from her and held her trembling hands, her palms were so cold, yet sweaty. Her eyes seemed distant. They had her. It was time for the kill.

Agent McCarthy walked into the next room, loosened up his tie, and smiled at the other three agents who were monitoring it all from behind the two-way mirror. “I give her five minutes. We'll have all the information we need,” he gloated as they shook their heads agreeing, enjoying the show. He watched like a proud parent as Agent Donahue played good cop.

“Listen. What I want from you is to explain it to me. Just me. I know you didn't hurt anyone. But the reality of it is that two agents were killed. And you didn't do it. But accessory is like pulling the trigger yourself. Especially when you're the only person we have for this to fall on. Meanwhile, whoever protecting you left you for dead. That's just the reality of it. The fact remaining is that we're the only people who can help you now. Well, I am. Agent McCarthy would rather destroy you,” Agent Donahue informed her. “He and those murdered agents were real close,” he added.

“But me, I just want justice. Making you the fall guy isn't justice.” His tone became more empathetic. “It's vengeance. I don't want vengeance. I just want the truth. Once I have that, I won't even need you any longer; you'd be free to go. Back to your job at the bank. No one will even know you were here. We'll make it seem like we thought you may have been stealing from the bank. A false indictment to show people usually works. I promise I will go the distance for you. But first,” he said, and pushed the pen and paper in her direction, “I need to know exactly what happened two nights ago. And you're free to go.”

Careese looked down at the pen and paper. Its letterhead read, C
ONFIDENTIAL
C
ONFESSION
/C
LASSIFIED
. She stared at the photos of the murdered agents scattered across the table. And then she looked back at the paper, back at the pictures, and then at the pen. With broken reluctance, she slowly reached for it. Her hand jerked back as the door burst open.

“Get the hell away from my client!” Diamond yelled out like a female lioness protecting her young as she slammed her briefcase down on the table and scooped up the group of pictures along with the statement forms and the pen in front of Careese. “I don't believe any of this concerns her, so I'd advise you to end your line of questioning. Now!” she sternly stated. She smacked him in the chest with the items that were on the table when she first entered the interrogation room.

“What're you doin' here?” Completely caught by surprise, Agent Donahue fumbled to catch the items just in time before they hit the floor. Diamond's arrogance transformed him from the once good cop he was pretending to be to Careese Pearson back to his normal asshole self. His friendliness was gone. “What does this have to do with you?” he followed up with.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. But not before I asked why the hell my hard-working, tax-paying, law-abiding citizen of a client is being held under false pretenses,” Diamond retorted. She knew he couldn't possibly know who she really was. No one outside of their organization really did.

Agent McCarthy abruptly burst in. He had the look of a defeated man as Diamond continued, “She isn't under arrest. Why was she detained?” She wasted no time cutting into Agent McCarthy. “She's no criminal. And unless you come up with proof of otherwise, I advise y'all to stay as far away from her as possible in the same state, unless you want to be downgraded to traffic cops. I've already spoken to your superiors. They're not pleased. I've also spoken to the magistrate judge who claimed to have no knowledge of a warrant being sought for the detention of my client. The truth is y'all never gave her the opportunity to cooperate. Y'all embarrassed her at her job, which she might not even have any longer. All y'all had to do was call her, which still would've been a dead end. She doesn't know anything. Nor has she done anything. But you, gentlemen, have done something. You publicly embarrassed and humiliated my client at her workplace. In addition to that, I'm sure that her job is in jeopardy, if they haven't already filed for immediate termination. So, unless you plan on falsely charging her with something, this meeting is over.”

Diamond politely stated, “Oh, and y 'all can expect to hear from my firm again, but on liability charges this time. Y'all have a good day, gentlemen,” she ended as she unleashed verbal assault all in one breath.

She then snatched Careese up by her arm and pulled her out of the door, before Agent McCarthy or Donahue had a chance to rebut her claims and accusations. Just as she reached the door with Careese in tow, she turned and faced Agent McCarthy.

“Oh, and give Linda my love. She knows me.” Diamond shot Agent McCarthy a wink and a smile then stormed off leaving with the Federal Bureau of Investigation's possibly best lead on their organization. The only one they'd had.

An egg could've been fried on Agent McCarthy's face he was so heated. He stood there watching the arrogant attorney sashay out of the building. His pressure went from zero to one hundred, not only because she had walked away with who he believed to be his star potential witness, but because of the mention of his wife's name. He made a mental note to ask her about the cocky plus-sized female attorney working for who he believed to be the Double Gs.

“Can she do that?” Agent Donahue asked McCarthy as the two men stood there dumbfounded.

“She just did,” McCarthy replied dryly. “It was a long shot.” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “And we were this close to a damn confession.” He illustrated with his two fingers. “It would've been all we needed.” He was sure he had gotten Careese Pearson on the ropes and, up until the unexpected presence of her attorney, Agent Donahue was doing a great job wrapping things up. He sucked his teeth and cursed himself for not closing on the interrogation personally. He had gotten too excited and was now paying for it. Had he stayed focused on the main objective he wouldn't have let up on the Double Gs' puppet until he got a signed confession. That was now a distant memory. McCarthy chalked this incident up as a loss for the home team.

“So what now?” Agent Donahue asked. He was still in shock behind Diamond walking in and whisking out a potential key witness and informant against the female organization he too had now taken seriously.

“Good question.” McCarthy grimaced. “Back to square one.” He sucked his teeth and pounded his right fist into his left palm. “Dammit!” he then abruptly let out as he smacked both palms down on the hardwood table.

“After you.” Diamond let Careese out of the elevator before she herself exited. The nervous look on Careese's face did not go unnoticed. But Diamond paid her facial expression and fidgety demeanor no mind. No words were exchanged the whole ride down from the seventh floor, where Careese was just being detained. She walked back past the metal detector and back out of the revolving door through which she had entered, as Careese trailed behind. Neither of them uttered a word to the other until they were safely enclosed in Diamond's Maserati.