“I can see the wheels turning in your head, don’t start making any assumptions until we hear them out,” Jackie assured me as she straightened her tie. It was almost two a.m., and she wrote a double breast, pencil skirt suit, with 6inch heels like it was the middle of the day. I nodded my head and followed her to the front door. We were greeted by an agent who held a walkie talkie. He was in full tactical gear like he was waiting a shoot out to happen at any moment. After getting clearance, he escorted my lawyer and I upstairs to the third floor.
The elevator ride felt longer than my entire drive. I kept taking deep breaths and trying to slow down my racing heart. I told myself that I had no reason to be afraid because I wasn’t guilty of anything, but I had never been in trouble before and people were falsely accused of shit all the time. If the state had enough evidence and said your ass was guilty, you were guilty.
When we arrived at the conference room, the door opened and three people were already seated inside. A thick stack of files rested on the table. Every folder had the Brick & Co. logo paper-clipped to the front.
I felt sick to my stomach.
“Ms. Walker, I’m Special Agent Harris.” A gray-haired man stood up and held out his hand for me to shake.
“Hi Agent Harris, I brought my lawyer with me.” I shook his hand before he turned to Jackie.
“Hello Agent Harris, I’m Jackie Turner,” my lawyer shook his hand and looked at him eye to eye.
“These are my colleagues, Agent Nelson and Agent Smith and we are waiting on one more,” he said as each agent nodded at both me and my lawyer. Faces were stoic, the lighting was terrible, like this was a bad Lifetime Movie, they meant business.
“Please have a seat.” Agent Harris said as my lawyer and I pulled out our chairs. We sat and he immediately slid a folder towards me. I opened it and inside were copies of driver’s licenses, bank statements, credit reports, and loan applications.
“What is this pertaining to?” my lawyer asked as she looked through the paperwork after me.
“Well, we have received multiple complaints from members of Brick & Co Fitness, your clients’ organization, these individuals have reported accounts being opened in their name without authorization.”
I stared at the paperwork like it was Chinese because I didn’t know anything about any of this shit. I looked through wire transfers, credit card bills, personal loans, and all of it spanned back to at least two years ago. This shit had been going on under my nose for a while. I shook my head immediately.
“No, I didn’t do this.” I turned to the agent then to my lawyer with tears in my eyes.
“Don’t say another word Ms. Walker, are you accusing my client of this? Is this an arrest?” my lawyer asked as tears filled my eyes.
“We believe customer information has been compromised, but no we are not accusing Ms. Walker of this, we do not believe she is responsible. We do believe someone inside your organization is,” he looked at me stoically. Every employee that reported to me flashed through my mind.
Every receptionist I had ever hired and fired, every manager, every trainer, contractors, cleaning staff, “There has to be some mistake, “I whispered.
“There isn’t a mistake, not only do you have some using your gym as a way to commit identify theft, and fraud, but we have an idea of who the person may be. We called you down here to ask you to help us arrest this person while maintaining the dignity of your gym,” Agent Harris said before he glanced toward the conference room door.
“Before we continue,” he looked through the two-way mirror and signaled for someone to come in. The door opened and I froze as Shelly walked inside. This woman wasn’t the goofy, blonde acting Shelly who was one of my receptionists, there was no workout outfit, and Stanley cup, instead she wore a fitted navy suit. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek bun. A badge hung from her belt, and a firearm rested discreetly beneath her jacket. She looked like a completely different woman.
“Shelly?” I questioned.
She offered me a small apologetic smile.
“My name isn’t Shelly, my name is Michelle Shelton and I’m a Special Agent with the FBI. I have been investigating your gym since I was hired.”
“What,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry,” she looked genuinely remorseful.
“I know this is a shock.”
“You’ve worked at my gym for months.”
“Yes.”
“So, none of that was real? You faked that sweet girl personality but the whole time you have been an FBI agent?” I asked her in disbelief.
Michelle’s shoulders dropped, “It was real, I’m the same person. I just omitted the truth.”
“Girl, don’t play lawyer games with me.” I laughed bitterly. I looked over at Jackie, “Tell me I’m on one of those hidden camera shows,” I demanded. I began to replay in my head every interaction I had with Shelly. The times when she asked too many questions and I assumed she was just nosey. The times she was over my shoulder looking at files and shit then played it off, acting like a ditzy blonde. Jackie didn’t smile or say a word and that told me everything I needed to know. I wasn’t getting pranked; this shit was as real as a heart attack.
“Yes, I have been investigating you and your gym for months Brick, but my friendship with you was genuine. I just couldn’t tell you why I was there. I carefully investigated you and realized that you had nothing to do with what was going on. You are sitting here right now and not in a jail cell because I know without a doubt, that you are a strait-laced businesswoman. I have never seen you cut corners and I know Brick and Co meansthe world to you. You would never do anything to sabotage your gym. I know that you had no idea this was going on,” she told me sadly.
