022: Fake Evidence

Lara

It's showtime.

We're dancing. There's no sign of Dexter as he didn't book a session with me beforehand. I still have to do this, though, as people might find it suspicious if I only ever dance when Dexter is around. Anyone could book me. I'm prepared for that, too. 

In a few hours' time, I have five separate private shows. I'm amazed by the amount. It's about fifteen minutes each, and I can make a respectable amount of tips. Ambrose will pay me afterward. It's quite a lot of money for me, and that is what keeps me dancing for these strange men who gaze upon my body with lust. At first, I'm afraid, but then I realize that they're not allowed to touch me, not if I don't want them to. I do what everyone else does; I let them touch my waist and my belly. Oliver says it's a good way to build a connection with the clients. That way, they'll keep coming back. I let this happen, but they never take it far. 

I count the seconds until I'm done. Then, I return to the main area after tucking all the tips inside my bra. 

I decide to have some water. I keep forgetting to bring the bottle. Ambrose says all drinks are on the house for us, as long as we don't get too drunk. The bartender, Jensen, turns to me with a small smile on his face. He asks me, "What will it be?"

"Water, please."

"Just water?"

I nod. 

He pours me a glass and then says, "How come you never ask something else? Like a cocktail or something?"

His question is a valid one and one that I've been avoiding for the past years. On the night of my engagement, I'd been drinking too much champagne. One could say that I was a little bit tipsy. Maybe if I had been sober, I would ever have slept with Dexter on that rooftop and none of this would have happened. A part of me blamed the alcohol. So, no more drinking for me. "I just don't like to drink."

Jensen nods. "Fair enough."

I sit on the bar and sip my water. Two men come up to me and congratulate me on my dancing. I thank them, and then they proceed to tell me that I'm beautiful and they're wondering how much I would charge for a night with the two of them.

I stiffen at this question but then again, the other girls have prepared me for this. "I'm not into that kind of thing, boys. I dance and that's about it."

"You're sure?" the older one asks. His hair is completely gray. "You're not going to change your mind?"

"Nope. Not going to."

They leave me alone and I take a deep breath of air. I finish my water and when I slide the glass to Jensen, I notice that he's looking at me. He says, "You're very nice, you know that? Too nice for a place like this."

"It's a decent job," I answer. "I have nothing against."

"Neither have I," eh admits. His eyes become even more inquisitive. "But I can't help but wonder where you were raised. You have an air of elegance around you. Maybe that's why all these guys are growing crazy for you."

I blush. "I've had a hard life like everyone here."

"Even the way you walk is different," he states. "You intrigue me."

Ambrose comes up behind me and says to Jensen, "Enough chitchatting, Jensen. Get back to work."

Jensen gives him a look before turning away.

"Feeling okay?" Ambrose asks me. 

I nod. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Russell called," he reveals. "He's on his way. I figured now is a good time for us to talk about what you're going to say to him about me. We're going to bait him and keep him trapped here. I'm sure this is going to work out well."

I follow Ambrose to his office. My heart is beating fast, the way it always does when I'll have to see Dexter. The reason why I'm always nervous is because although I tell myself that this is a job and I should be calm about it, I'm afraid the day will come when all the poison that's been festering inside of me for years will come out. I'm deathly afraid of lashing out and cursing him. 

Ambrose closes the door to his office. In there, we discuss everything that I should say and the more he reveals, the more suggestions I make. I think there's a lot that he could add to this elaborate lie and he accepts whatever he thinks will pass. All in all, we send about half an hour brainstorming and then we're called because Dexter has arrived. 

Ambrose squeezes my shoulder just before we exit his office. "You can do this. You've proven yourself to be very capable, Lara. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," I tell him before venturing outside and going to look for Dexter. 

I find him standing by the bar. He's talking to Jensen about something. Jensen turns to get him what he wants but then we make eye contact and he pauses. His eyes are on me for a beat longer than would be normal and then he's preparing Dexter's drink. Then, it's Dexter's turn to look at me. 

"You're back," I try to say in a tone that doesn't betray how I felt. 

"Do you have something for me?" he asks as he reaches into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. 

"Yes," I answer. "Maybe."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I don't know if what I have will interest you, especially considering the fact that I don't know what he's looking for."

"Fine," he says before lighting the cigarette. "It's the same room. Follow me."

I go with him to the room. I dim the lights a little bit and then get on the stage. Dexter raises his hand and says, "You don't have to do that. We both know why I'm here now."

I suppress the urge to scoff and get closer to him.

He says, "Just tell me what you know."

"Ambrose received a shipment today."

"What kind of shipment?"

I shrugged. "Didn't look like much but he received it. It was small package that was wrapped in brown paper. Then, when I went into is office to collect my money from the night before, I saw white powder on his desk which he hurried to wipe away."

Dexter sits up slowly. He hasn't touched his drink. "You're sure you saw this?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

Dexter searches my eyes thoroughly. I always feel afraid when he does this because I don't want him to suddenly realize who I am. It would ruin everything.

He runs a hand down his face in frustration. He looks to the side as if he's deep in thought. Maybe he is. He then looks back at me. I don't know what else to say. If I give too much away, he'll think I'm lying. I am, but he can't know that.

"Have you ever seen anyone around here doing drugs?"

"No, it's too soon. If they do, they don't do it in front of me." After a pause, I then ask, "Why does this matter anyway? Why do you want to know what he's up to?"

"I work with the authorities and my job is to get rid of scum like that who make the world what they wish for it to be," he says through his teeth. "I stop people like him from spreading corruption. That's what I do."

As he says the words, I can't help but realize what a true hypocrite he is. What about the things he's done? Doesn't he deserve to be punished too? Does he really think of himself as such a saint?

I have to unmask him.

Give him a taste of his own medicine.