CON TEST: Double Life Read Free

bank hired him as a teller, let the man work. Justice was over the idea of working, and he knew that finishing college, relocating, and then starting his own company was the only tandem to create a prismatic future. M & M’s third party risk rule meant not even McDonald’s was an employment option, considering the food chain accepted credit cards as payment. The feds had a lien on his credit report for the money he owed. That deemed Justice extremely risky for a business loan. Ergo, he was in a life threatening catch-22.
    No matter which questions M & M asked, and no matter the order she asked them, her finale remained the same: “Any new arrests?”
    “ Of course not,” Justice usually replied with the truthfulness of a tyke. Had she asked whether he had committed a crime, she may have been on to something. He laughed at the response that he would have given her: “Now let’s see here. I drive an Escalade that was $700 a month. My mortgage was $800 a month. Seasonal clothing expenses were $4,000 a month.” That look on her face had he said that, priceless.
    He sat as she typed the last keystroke. He waited for her to spin from her computer station and consult her desk calendar to give him a new date to report. She did her spin, but she did not consult her calendar. He analyzed her body language, but she gave away no hints. She turned from her computer and clapped her hands together on her desk. She stared at him quizzically. The seconds of silence was louder than kids on the street screaming after an ice cream truck. Talk bitch , he yelled in his head.
    Finally, he could not take it. “My class begins soon and I cannot be late for this professor’s class. After he takes roll, he locks the door until he gives a break. It’s a three hour class, Ms. Miller.”
    “ I see, Mr. Lorenzo,” M & M said. “Unfortunately, you will be missing class today.”
    Justice’s brow furrowed and he wondered what the evil bitch meant. He was always polite and cordial when speaking to her. That was usually on a level that she could easily comprehend. He knew that she and most of her colleagues were intellectually inferior to him. It sickened him that he had to placate his intelligence for the sake of his freedom. Tardiness and absence from class was only used when it came to reporting to her office staffed with pompous swine. The two were never in the equation when it came time to sponge knowledge from the prodigious scholars who taught at Villanova University.
    In an innocent attempt to browbeat, Justice stood and pulled on his jacket. “Nice joke,” he quipped, smiling.
    She stood and beat him to the door. She signaled for someone to join them before she galloped her big teeth ass back to her desk. Confused, Justice could not decide if he should keep his eyes on her or the door. He was not a man who adored fictional characters, nor over-the-top powers; but, he wanted to activate the eyes in the back of his head. With M & M’s portly figure perched at her desk, Justice focused his attention to the doorway.
    Like superheroes, ghosts did not rank high on Justice’s favorite list, but he saw two. One male, black, mid-thirties. One female, Demi Moore-esque. Both donned Secret Service badges on their waist bands. M & M introduced them, “Justice, meet Mr. and Mrs. Williams. You remember them.” Sure he did, and they were not ghosts. They were the same agents from Justice’s first federal case.
    Cute introduction , he thought. Naturally, he was uncomfortable. The two agents stood side by side, both dressed beggarly. They blatantly invaded his space, like they wanted to take something from him. No gun, so that was no ordinary robbery. No knife, either. They planned to strong arm him for his freedom.
    Agent Jared Williams sported a bushy, cropped top and had the flattest face Justice had ever encountered. His eyes were poppy and wide apart.
    In that moment, Justice’s thoughts were marred with the notion that his cover was blown.