Is The FBI Monica’s only solution to get herself out of trouble? Or, is there another way? Enjoy Part 8 of A Dangerous Game. Thanks.
MONICA SAT IN A chair at her dining room table. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt with bare feet. The handcuffs were off. The two FBI agents sat at the table with her. They were on either side of her at the table. They had positioned themselves to remove any thoughts that Monica had of running from them.
“Mrs. Jansen, we apologize for not taking off our masks,” one man said. “We can’t. We work undercover.” Monica rubbed tears from her eyes and nodded. “Mrs. Jansen, I won’t lie to you. You’re in serious trouble. You were set up. It’s that simple.”
“You attached yourself to the wrong people,” the other man said. “Now it has come back to haunt you. We don’t think you’re a bad person. You just got caught up in a bad situation. Seeking excitement from those you don’t know can cause things like this to happen sometimes. That’s what you were doing, correct?” Monica nodded. “Please answer verbally.”
“Yes,” Monica said. “That’s all I was doing. Will my husband need to know about this?”
“Mrs. Jansen, that’s the least of your problems at the moment,” the man said. “You killed someone. That should be your focus. The men that you got involved with belong to a crime ring. They are some of the best conmen around. They find women like you. Or, you find them. They flirt. They romance you. They suck you in. Before you know it, you’re having sex with these men anywhere and everywhere. They convince you it’s just exciting romance and unadulterated pleasure. No one needs to know. What harm can there be with sex between consenting adults?” Monica shrugged her shoulders. “Try a lot.”
“See, what you don’t understand, Mrs. Jansen, is that these men had it all planned out,” the other man said. “They date you. They blackmail you. And sometimes they kill you if they need to.” He tossed a manila folder on the table in front of her. Monica looked at it. “Open it. Look at each document.”
Monica slid the folder closer and opened it. Inside was a photo of a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. Bruises covered her face. Her eyes were swollen. Her lips were split and swollen. Bruises were on her arms and neck. One of the men told Monica to look at the next one.
Monica looked at the next photo of the woman. She was lying naked with a knife in her chest under a pier. Monica closed the folder and looked away. She slid the folder away from her and exhaled.
“We can’t go into detail,” one of the men said. “But, that’s what happens when women try to end their relationships with these men without paying first.”
“That’s awful,” Monica whispered. “I didn’t need to see that.”
“Yes, you did,” the other man said. “This victim had a sexual liaison with her lover for three months. She refused to pay him two hundred thousand dollars for his silence. She was going to tell her husband about her indiscretion and try to restore the faith in her marriage. That made her lover angry. You were on your way to join this woman.”
“Mrs. Jansen, some women commit suicide to prevent facing their family and friends when blackmailed,” the other man said. “They’re too embarrassed to tell anyone why they’re being blackmailed. And, they know photos of them will eventually be on the internet.” Monica swallowed hard. “We don’t think you killed your lover.”
Monica sat up. “Did they do it?” Monica asked. “Did they kill that man? The conmen. Did they do it? Did they?” One of the men said yes. “So that means I shouldn’t be charged with murder. Right?”
“No,” one of the men said. “You’re going to be charged with murder. What we just told you about these men won’t matter in court. The prosecutor is going to say you killed that man, your lover, in that house.”
“Your DNA was all over the victim,” the other man said. “Blood, saliva, other fluids, it’s all yours. Unless you get a break, you’ll be charged with murder. Your case will be federal. You could possibly get the death penalty. We’re not trying to scare you. We’re giving you the facts.”
Monica dropped her head in her hands and cried, shaking all over.
The two men glanced at one another. “There is a way out of this, Mrs. Jansen,” one man said. Monica looked up at him. “But, you’ll have to do your part. You’ll play the lead role in this plan. I can’t lie to you. It may get scary. But, if you pull your part off, we’ll arrest one of the kingpins of this organization. We’re confident with this man’s arrest you won’t go to court or be charged with any crime.”
Monica swallowed, wide-eyed. “What do I have to do?” she asked.
One man reached down and picked up a shopping bag, phone, and envelope. They were the items from the back of Monica’s SUV. He put them on the table in front of her. “Open the shopping bag and remove what’s in it,” the man said.
Monica reached into the bag and took out a black dress and a pair of black stiletto heels. The man told her to open the envelope and remove the photo inside. Monica removed the photo and put it on the table. The photo was of a balding man with a round face. He wore oversized wire-rimmed glasses.
“That’s your target,” a man said. “The clothes are your outfit. Here.” He handed her the phone. “This is the phone you’ll contact us with. One more thing.” The man handed her a three-inch-long pencil size vial filled with clear liquid. “The top is on tight. You won’t spill it.”
Monica squinted. “I’m not sure what you’re saying to me with…all…this stuff,” she said.
“It’s simple,” the other man said. “You’re going to seduce this man. You’re going to drug this man and leave. We’ll do the rest. We’ll arrest him and get him off the streets into an FBI interrogation room. We want to nail this network of criminals. They’re preying on innocent women across the country.”
“You’re our way in, Mrs. Jansen,” the other man said. “We need to know if you’re up for it? Do you want to clear your name of the murder charges?”
“Or, do you want to take your chances in court?” the other man asked. “You’ll face life in prison or the death penalty. On the other hand, if you clear yourself, the entire ordeal is over. You can put it behind you. No one will ever have to know what you did. That part of your life won’t exist anywhere.”
“Which path do you want to take?” the other man asked.
Which would you decide if you were in Monica shoes? That’s a tough one. I hope you enjoyed Part 8.
Due to time restraints, I’ll post new blogs every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
I’ll see you on Friday.
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