Two Minds to Tumble Her Wall
Omar Johnson and Clarence Dens had forged their bond in the grit and discipline of the military. They had both served as high-level military police officers, a job that required a unique blend of skepticism and tactical precision. When their service ended, their paths diverged for a time; Clarence retired to travel the world, soaking in different cultures, while Omar stayed stateside, climbing the ranks to become a high-ranking police officer in a major metropolitan city.
Between the two of them, they had a Rolodex of connections that spanned from federal agencies to the darkest corners of the streets. It was only natural that they eventually pooled their talents to become private investigators when they decided to shift gears and change their lives once again. They didn't just look for clues; they dismantled lies.
On this humid evening, Omar sat motionless in his darkened vehicle outside the garden house where Jessica Lance had taken up residence. He had tracked her down with almost insulting ease. Despite her attempts at secrecy, her vanity was her undoing; her constant spending and the flurry of high-end deliveries to the front door had left a trail a mile wide.
The house was a beautiful split-level structure with dramatic, sweeping views of a vast garden. It sat in the center of the garden which was encircled by modern skyscrapers. The home was technically a downgrade from her original estate, but it was far from a shack.
Jessica had arrived home hours ago, a move that had pleasantly surprised Omar – he thought he would have to wait days to catch up to her. His luck held when Christopher Patrick arrived shortly after, looking over his shoulder as if he expected the world to be watching.
Omar adjusted his long-range parabolic listening device, the headset damp against his ears. He had been monitoring them for hours, but he'd found himself tuning out—half-listening and half-scowling—once the sounds of their physical encounter began to broadcast through the receiver. His mind drifted, sifting through the digital paper trail he had already unearthed.
Jessica Lance was a woman who collected "friends" like accessories. She had been seeing a contact in women's fertility clinics frequently of late. There was also a lawyer with a questionable reputation and a connection in the city planning office. These were the only people she had spent significant time with—besides her own family—since Amber Ann had broken ground on her resort project.
Every single one of Omar's professional contacts had the same thing to report about the eldest Lance daughter: she was pathologically self-absorbed.
His focus snapped back to the present when the rhythmic moaning in the house finally subsided. The heavy silence was replaced by the low, muffled tones of post-coital pillow talk. Omar hit the record button on his console, silencing his side thoughts to catch every syllable.
"My wife wants to meet the surrogate," Christopher's voice came through, sounding strained and anxious.
Jessica's response was a sharp, biting scoff. "I told you not to tell her. You moved too fast, Christopher. You always do."
"I got excited," he defended himself, his voice dropping an octave. "I want her to be happy, Jess. I thought a surrogate would simplify everything for us."
Jessica sighed, a sound of pure, unadulterated annoyance that crackled through Omar's headset. "Don't worry about it. I met a girl at the fertility clinic recently. She's short on money and she's more than willing to be your surrogate. The best part? She's already expecting a multiple birth. We can induce on the same day. It'll be seamless. No one will ever know."
A long, heavy silence stretched between them. When Christopher finally spoke, his voice was thick with a mixture of resignation and fear. "You are too manipulative, Jessica. Too cunning for your own good."
"Calm down, baby," she replied, and Omar could almost hear the predatory purr in her throat. "I just like to get what I want. You're perfectly safe... as long as you keep giving me what I want."
There was a razor-sharp edge to her voice that caused Omar to raise an eyebrow in the dark. This wasn't a romance; it was a hostage situation.
"Now," Jessica continued, her tone shifting back to business. "Tell me. Did you finally reject her loan outright?"
Christopher let out a sigh that sounded regretful, even sad, to Omar's trained ears. "Yes. I cited high risk and a flawed business plan, just like you wanted."
"Very good."
The triumph in her voice made Omar's stomach churn.
"You know," Christopher added hesitantly, "that resort is actually a really solid investment. We could have made a fortune as silent, secret investors. We should—"
"NO!" Jessica's voice spiked, turning shrill. "I want her to fail. I want her to fail in total misery. I don't want that girl to have a single ounce of happiness or success."
She sucked her teeth, the sound petty and ugly. "She thought she could deny me. She thought she could take something that belonged to me. I will not let her get away with it."
"She's your sister, Jess."
"AND?!" she snapped. "What the hell does that mean? It means nothing."
She sucked her teeth again, a sound of pure contempt. Omar shook his head, disgusted, and pulled his phone from his pocket. The blue light of the screen felt blinding in the dark cabin of the car. Clarence had been digging into the "lawyer friend," and a message was already waiting.
Clarence Dens: "The discrepancies with the lawyer run deeper then we thought. She's knee-deep in illegal activity—falsifying documents, mostly, but there is a lot more. She's going to be Jessica's biggest ally, especially if there's a payday at the end of it."
Omar nodded as he typed his reply, his thumbs moving quickly.
Me: "Put someone else on the lawyer for now. I want you to dig deeper into the city planning officer."
Clarence Dens: "Already ahead of you. The city planner oversees commercial permits for the entire county, not just Carson City. It seems Jessica has multiple backup plans to stall Amber's project. Are we in agreement? She isn't carrying our client's baby, is she?"
Me: "I'm certain of it. She 'became' pregnant so quickly after the split that I'm starting to doubt Patrick is the father of those twins either. She's playing everyone."
Clarence Dens: "LOL, perhaps. I think our job here is essentially done. We have enough to sink her. I'll call the client in tomorrow morning."
Omar hesitated, staring out at the beautiful garden house that held so many ugly secrets. The law enforcement officer in him, the man who had spent decades putting people like this behind bars, wanted to stay and watch the whole house of cards come crashing down. He wanted to ensure this selfish woman was neutralized completely.
Me: "Okay. Call him."
He wasn't quite ready to end the surveillance, but his partner was right. It had taken them only three days to unravel the web Jessica Lance had woven, but the truth was now undeniable.
As Omar put the car into gear and began to roll away silently, his eyes lingered on the rearview mirror. He was going to inform Dan Trace of everything, but in his heart, Omar Johnson wanted to make sure that this woman never had the opportunity to hurt another soul ever again.