Just Another Liar

Chapter 14: Milo

It took seventy-two hours for me to find a workable time to go into the office. This was no small feat since Aurelio had his gorillas outside watching my every move. It also didn't help that Deandre was bordering on being a nymphomaniac. I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

It leaned over to tie my black work shoes. They were dull black leather. I purchased the pair at a department store for a company party when I first joined the San Antonio branch of the FBI. After securing the knot, I stood up feeling the restrictions of wearing my black suit jacket.

Wanting to make the best impression that I could. I had sparse check-ins with headquarters since I was deep undercover with constant surveillance. I only knew they were happy that I had aided in the temporary halting of smuggling and distribution. Everything else was a mystery. The mics I had placed in Aurelio's home had lost power, and Deandre was not as easy to get to talk. Aurelio constantly lubricated, so he was more open. Deandre seemed to hate to talk about work.

"Hey, I'm headed out. I should be back in an hour or two, unless I treat myself to something nice," I informed him. He thought I was going into the fictional newspaper to have a freelancing meeting with the managers. Deandre stood up from my couch. He had made himself at home in my place. In his hands were three bills. He pushed them in my hand before he sat back down. I counted out three hundred dollars and rolled my eyes. He thought he could buy me.

"Thank you," I said, trying to sound as cheery as possible without it coming off fake. As I exited, I checked if I had gathered everything that could out me. I kept things organized in accordion binders that I had put in the backpack I was wearing.

I walked to my car and put the bag in the truck before I drove off. The whole time I was making sure nobody followed me. I could feel my chest constrict with nervousness. I liked to know what I was going into, but Parker refused to answer questions. I tried asking when I checked in, but she just ignored the messages. I turned into the parking structure, having to reach for my badge strapped under my seat. When I parked, I took a deep breath and sat in my car.

Forcing myself to look at the column in front of me and nothing more. I placed my right hand on my belly, just below my ribs. I then placed my left hand on my chest. I took in a slow, deep breath. Breathing in through my nose as I closed my eyes. The feeling of air swelling my belly under my hand was at the forefront of my attention. I held that breath for a second, then exhaled through my mouth. I felt as my belly deflated. I kept doing that until I staved off the panic attack that was building. It was a technique I learned in therapy.

Feeling confident, I squared my shoulders and got out of the car with my game face on. I stopped to get my bookbag and then went to the carpark entrance. Badging into the building, I went directly to my desk, placing my bag underneath and checked my emails. I had not done it in well over a week, so various people flooded my inbox with a bunch of information I didn't need. With that complete, I signed off on some papers that were sitting next to my keyboard. It comprised information needed by prosecutors for the case.

I was relatively late coming in, so my coworkers were already deep into their daily tasks. It had been a while since I was so laser focused on planning. If they still employed me after this case, I hoped to get back into the habit of planning and increasing my analytic understanding. I left my desk and walked down the aisle, narrowly missing the coffee cart as I banked a left on the corridor that Parker's office was on.

The glass wall had all the blinds pulled shut for privacy. I knocked on the door and waited for a response.

"Come in," her voice bellowed from inside. I opened the door and walked into an office that had many pictures on the walls. I was not sure what I had expected of her office. Actually I did, I thought it would be plain, with no discernable character or personality. Instead, there were pictures of Agent Parker and what looked to be several family members.