that; to lower her eyes and to pretend like he was her Lord and
master. Men like that didn't like it when people thought they had any control
at all, and she was willing to grovel a bit if it put her on his good side.
The second man was tall
and fit. He looked like a basketball player instead of an office cubical
dweller. He had nice hair, a bit long in the front, and he brushed it out of
his eyes as he studied her.
Amy knew his type too,
probably played spots in college, married his sweetheart, and ended up in a
cushy government job. He would be a Hell of a lot easier to trick than the
first one, but she would still be on guard for any deception on his part. The
first man stood up to introduce them.
"My name is Brendan
Edwards, and my colleague is James Grayson." She nodded. Brendan opened
a large folder and took out several papers.
"I don't suppose you
would be willing to just sign a confession and save a few steps, would
you?" He looked at her openly.
"Not a chance, well,
I mean, I don't have anything to confess to," she stammered. Damn these
men, she felt herself about to cry.
James took out several
photographs from another folder and sat them on the desk.
"You have been
receiving disability for several months now, because you are unable to work
correct?"
"Yes, I have a back
injury. When I was at work I slipped and fell and...," James cut her off.
"Your injury seems
to not prevent activities like what you told your doctor," he picked up
one picture of her riding a mechanical bull at a cowboy bar last month.
"Where did you get
that?" She asked.
"Facebook, you have
a lot of friends and they put up a lot of pictures. Here is you waterskiing
two weeks ago. We also have videos posted of you on a trampoline too, doing
flips."
"It comes and goes,
those were on good days," she lied.
"You know you can't
lie to us, we have witness statements, overwhelming evidence," he said.
"There is also the
matter of when you claim unemployment each week, and you certify that you are
able to work and actively seeking work," continued Brendan. "You
have several places where you said you applied for work at, and guess what they
said when we contacted every single one of them?"
"That they were not
hiring that day?" She tried.
"No, they actually
said they had never heard of you and that they had no applications or resumes
on file for you."
"I didn't leave a
resume if they were not hiring," she continued to lie, but knew it was
futile.
"But you did go in
to," his eyes trailed down a list on one of the pages, "the Willamette
National Bank last week?"
"I certainly did,
spoke to the manager; I remember it was on Tuesday." James smiled smugly
at her response.
"We have reviewed
the bank's security cameras for the past three weeks in fact, and you did
not," he said.
"You really need to
stop lying to us," finished Brendan. Amy knew he was right, she was
nailed.
"So what exactly do
you want from me, blood?" She felt the tears starting. It wasn't
artificial, she had no problem whipping up some fake tears if she thought it
would help, but in this case she just couldn't hold them back. Her life as she
knew it was about to change for the worse and there wasn't anything she could
do to stop it. The taller man, James, handed her a tissue from the box on the
desk. Amy thought bitterly that these two men had probably made lots of women
cry with their investigations.
"If you sign the
confession, we can make a deal, possibly forgive some of the fraud, and lower
the amount of the overpayments."
"Overpayments?"
She asked, dumbfounded. Amy felt like the walls or reality were crashing down
around her. Not only was she about to lose her income, but they were going to
expect her to pay the money back as well! She mentally totaled the amounts she
had received just in the last few months and knew it was in the thousands.
"I don't know what
to say," and that was the first honest thing she
master. Men like that didn't like it when people thought they had any control
at all, and she was willing to grovel a bit if it put her on his good side.
The second man was tall
and fit. He looked like a basketball player instead of an office cubical
dweller. He had nice hair, a bit long in the front, and he brushed it out of
his eyes as he studied her.
Amy knew his type too,
probably played spots in college, married his sweetheart, and ended up in a
cushy government job. He would be a Hell of a lot easier to trick than the
first one, but she would still be on guard for any deception on his part. The
first man stood up to introduce them.
"My name is Brendan
Edwards, and my colleague is James Grayson." She nodded. Brendan opened
a large folder and took out several papers.
"I don't suppose you
would be willing to just sign a confession and save a few steps, would
you?" He looked at her openly.
"Not a chance, well,
I mean, I don't have anything to confess to," she stammered. Damn these
men, she felt herself about to cry.
James took out several
photographs from another folder and sat them on the desk.
"You have been
receiving disability for several months now, because you are unable to work
correct?"
"Yes, I have a back
injury. When I was at work I slipped and fell and...," James cut her off.
"Your injury seems
to not prevent activities like what you told your doctor," he picked up
one picture of her riding a mechanical bull at a cowboy bar last month.
"Where did you get
that?" She asked.
"Facebook, you have
a lot of friends and they put up a lot of pictures. Here is you waterskiing
two weeks ago. We also have videos posted of you on a trampoline too, doing
flips."
"It comes and goes,
those were on good days," she lied.
"You know you can't
lie to us, we have witness statements, overwhelming evidence," he said.
"There is also the
matter of when you claim unemployment each week, and you certify that you are
able to work and actively seeking work," continued Brendan. "You
have several places where you said you applied for work at, and guess what they
said when we contacted every single one of them?"
"That they were not
hiring that day?" She tried.
"No, they actually
said they had never heard of you and that they had no applications or resumes
on file for you."
"I didn't leave a
resume if they were not hiring," she continued to lie, but knew it was
futile.
"But you did go in
to," his eyes trailed down a list on one of the pages, "the Willamette
National Bank last week?"
"I certainly did,
spoke to the manager; I remember it was on Tuesday." James smiled smugly
at her response.
"We have reviewed
the bank's security cameras for the past three weeks in fact, and you did
not," he said.
"You really need to
stop lying to us," finished Brendan. Amy knew he was right, she was
nailed.
"So what exactly do
you want from me, blood?" She felt the tears starting. It wasn't
artificial, she had no problem whipping up some fake tears if she thought it
would help, but in this case she just couldn't hold them back. Her life as she
knew it was about to change for the worse and there wasn't anything she could
do to stop it. The taller man, James, handed her a tissue from the box on the
desk. Amy thought bitterly that these two men had probably made lots of women
cry with their investigations.
"If you sign the
confession, we can make a deal, possibly forgive some of the fraud, and lower
the amount of the overpayments."
"Overpayments?"
She asked, dumbfounded. Amy felt like the walls or reality were crashing down
around her. Not only was she about to lose her income, but they were going to
expect her to pay the money back as well! She mentally totaled the amounts she
had received just in the last few months and knew it was in the thousands.
"I don't know what
to say," and that was the first honest thing she
Similar Books
