"Wait—" I said. "Do you see the expression on my face?"
Cindy put the file in front of him, put her whole body between us, stretched out to the table and everything. "Have you seen this?"
Breaking the eye contact between us, Jacob had to turn his attention to Cindy. "That is not my signature."
"Can you confirm?" Cindy said. "Do you have anything we can compare?"
Without those creepy dark eyes passing through my eyes, my self-control will become easier. Logic prevailed. He is a liar. So, what if all I have always wanted is to be loved? Everyone is like this. I may smell like Ryan, because we are just together and I don’t look happy, so there may be trouble. A drunk tramp can also guess.
Jacob tore off a curtain from a neglected piece of furniture in the corner. The dust billowed into the air. He slipped a thick folder out of the cupboard.
"Here," he said. He arranged three sheets side by side, two white sheets and a carbon copy, each of which was signed by him. He even took a pen from the table and signed the file again so that we could see all four signatures in succession. Cindy put her papers next to the bed sheet.
We approached him, our eyes measured every curve and change of his signature. I broke the silence first. "They are different."
"So you are not an assistant prosecutor for a death substitute at all?" Cindy asked.
"Death reading is not my area of expertise," he said with a wink.
Cindy straightened up. "Did you realize that someone was signing your name everywhere? Have you taken appropriate measures to prevent identity theft? Did you know that I might be killed today because of a false assumption. As a..., I verified everything? These substitutes?"
"How I run my business has nothing to do with you."
"That's how people want to kill me," Cindy shouted.
Cindy and I both turned to the click beads of the moving curtain and found Jacob's mother at the door.
"Get out of my house."
When we didn't move fast enough, she repeated it again.
"Do you have a hearing problem? I said get out of my house"
"Obviously, we misunderstood each other," Cindy said, her voice getting colder.
"I didn't misunderstand anything," she said. She reached out and tugged on her golden ponytail, as if saying that she was serious and wanted to pull our ass out. I thought about it a long time ago. I don't need any dominant position to get this. "I've been watching the news, knowing that I recognized you. You mean my son is responsible for the accident. You mean he is going to kill people everywhere."
"Let's start again." Cindy played the role of the lion trainer. "I'm Cindy. This is j.
"Get out of my house" she walked towards us. "Someone becomes special, you want to persecute them. My child will not be your victim."
"Wait a minute." I don't even intend to point out the completely illogical mentality behind her reasoning. She knew she was talking to a victim of persecution, right
Jacob put a card into my hand. "If you need help to make a decision," he said quietly.
His mother slowly approached. Cindy and I walked around the other side of the table, left the pair, and walked back through the bead curtain. We just crossed the threshold, and a painting on the wall next to the door frame caught my attention.
Four people and a baby were standing with a smile: Jacob, his mother, and two women. A woman is a mystery. The other is Eve holding a child.
This is my proof. If I gave this picture to Garrison, then he might believe our story about Eve's forged signature, even if she doesn't want to admit it.
"Yes, I got it," I screamed, taking the picture off the wall and showing it to Cindy. "This is all we need."
Jacob's mother charged like a bull with a spear in its ass. "I told you to get out of my house"
I pushed Cindy away and ran to the door hurriedly. She pushed me to the door and pushed me from the screen to the lawn. I knelt on my knees.
My knees were connected to dirt and gravel, and an explosion shook the entire house. I lowered my body, covered my head, and inhaled the moisture of the soil.
"What is the name of God?" Jacob's mother said, no longer chasing us. Through the magical screen door and the woman's thick legs, I saw a large splash of water pouring into the corridor. The toilet sits outside the bathroom, supported at an angle against the wall.
"What the hell?" I asked.
"Stop asking," Cindy said as he pulled me out of the yard and pushed me into her car.
We were in the car, and before Mother Destroyer went downstairs, we drove out of the driveway and cursed us for ruining her house.
Cindy kept speeding until we were a few blocks away. "Damn!"
"Do you affect the water pressure or something?"
Cindy bit her lip. "Or something".
"Can't you tell me earlier?" I asked, my voice rising an octave. "Oh, my God, I was terrified by spontaneous combustion, and you blew up the toilet."
Chapter 1
"We should talk," I clicked and we were safe at home at the time.
"No," Cindy insisted.
"You blew up the toilet." I detonated the electronics," I argued for the tenth time. "It's not fucking normal. "
"I have no problem," Cindy shouted. The little remaining calmness of her has disappeared. Her face was bright red, and her hands clenched fists by her side. "If you say one more word, I will leave."
That's it. I didn't want her to leave, so I closed my mouth. But damn it, it's tough. I feel better, knowing that I am not the only one, but I need to deal with it.
We were silent for a full five minutes, and before she spoke again, we had a full five minutes of silence on the living room furniture. Cindy pointed to the photo on my knee. "I can't believe you stole this."
"Eve may never tell the truth," I said, examining the painting more closely. "If I could show him this along with the forged signature, he might think I was a victim."
"Jacob may not know that she is forging his signature," Cindy said. "He saw his name appearing in our Ministry of Defense, and he looked surprised."
"Or he may be acting," I said. "You saw the way he totally wanted to lie to me."
I shivered from the breakdown of adrenaline. I searched the Happy Four for clues and watched Happy Eve holding a baby.
My eyes are fixed, but my thoughts are swimming. Eve's death is not a real death. I sacrificed for nothing. To make matters worse, I might have to pay a fine and go to jail. And Ellie God. I tried to breathe to resist panic.
"Someone is tempting the agent," I said. "I bet Brad Strum will win. We can seduce him with your substitute and see how much he likes it."
Cindy frowned. "This is too risky."
"You are right." This leaves us clueless about how to find the bastard in the hotel room. Obviously, he is working hard to eliminate the zombies in Nashville, but why doesn't he come back and find me? Did Gabriel do it? still
"Can you reach the agent in charge of your case?" Cindy asked.
"Garrison?" I asked.
"We should call him," she said. "Can't drive him out of the house."
I turned the photo over so that I don’t have to look at their smiling faces. "Madam doesn't look like the kind of woman who would let Federal agents hold her back."
I called Garrison, and he had another thick folder in his hand.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the bulging brown skin flap. "I hope it's not my search warrant."
"We are acquiring these products," he said, expressionless.
I don't know if he is joking. I still smiled reluctantly, but I'm pretty sure it sounds nervous and embarrassing. I wanted to take out the picture of Eve I had stolen, but he waved me away.
"I brought it myself," he said. He opened the envelope cover and took out several large 810 photos. He put them on my coffee table, side by side.
"Do you know him?" he asked, pointing to a middle-aged bald man on the table.
"No," I said. I don't like his blunt tone.
He turned to Cindy. "And you?"
She leaned on the coffee table and stared closely. "No."
"This is Brad Strum," he said to me, turning around.
I pointed to another photo. "This is the person Eve introduced as Brad."
The photo I was referring to was not that clear. It was an unfocused security camera photo, not a decorated portrait. This blurred photo is a black and white photo of Eva and Fake Brad. In this photo, the fake Brad is checking out from a certain store.
"This is the real Brad Strum," he said again. He pointed to the middle-aged bald man I had never seen before.
"But look at him," I said, trying to draw Garrison's eyes back to the fake Brad's picture. "Does he look unfamiliar?"
He spoke as if he hadn't heard me. "We removed it from a security camera in a convenience store."
Cindy handed me the photo I had stolen from Jacob's house and nudged me with an elbow. I gave it to Garrison again, hope he won't ignore me again. As I explained how we got it, he looked at it carefully.
"You got it from Jacob Willis' house at 507?"
"Eve used her cousin's signature to forge her documents," I explained. "I have a few signature slips that prove that his signature does not match and that he knows Eve."
"We were driven out of the house," Cindy said. "She just accidentally took it away."
Cindy gave me a cover story, which was so sweet, but Garrison didn't seem to want to arrest me for petty theft.
I saw the picture of Garrison. This whole situation is strange and surreal. A Jǐng chaser was in my living room and showed me a black and white photo of a person who wanted to kill me. Does this really happen to people? (End of this chapter)