The Valet

By Jackie Adams

The Valet is a riveting portrayal of how a single point in time can forever alter one’s trajectory. From the moment Tammy Sue witnesses a horrific crime, every aspect of her life is tested. As the lone witness, she must grapple with the intense scrutiny she suddenly finds herself facing. She’s thrust into a new uncharted reality. She clings to the memories of who she used to be, while struggling to embrace the person she’s now become. Without exception, every relationship she has will be profoundly affected. None will be left untouched.

When Tammy begins experiencing strange and mysterious phenomenon, she is irrevocably pushed to the brink. Feeling as though she’s unwittingly placed her family in grave danger, she’s compelled to take matters into her own hands. Unbeknownst to Tammy, she’s about to embark on a journey that may mean she will never be able to find her way back to the one thing she cherishes above all else—the life she previously knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532076893

Jackie Adams

(NO BIO)

Book preview

Chapter 1

Who shoots a man while wearing four-inch, black stilettos and leather skinny pants? Apparently, the middle-aged woman I’m staring at does. I would guess she’s in her forties. Her pants are so tight she looks as if she’s all legs. She has her gun in her left hand and a stylish brown, leopard print clutch, in her right. Her sleek, black hair looks as though she has just arrived from having it professionally styled.

With one man already shot, she is commanding the other two men. It’s in a language I am unfamiliar with. The men, with their hands held defensively in front of them, respond to her. I’m still unable to understand what they’re saying. If it weren’t for her being in the midst of murder, she would be strikingly beautiful. I’m not sure which is redder, the lipstick she is wearing… or the blood of the dying man on the ground, between them.

What if she sees me? What if she hears me? What if she kills me? What if I never see my children again? So many questions are running through my mind. My wobbling legs can barely hold me. I’m hiding in an alley, hunched down behind a city dumpster. I’m trembling in fear as this female James Bond goes on a killing spree.

I frantically reach for my phone in my back pocket. Clark will probably be calling any minute to find out what is taking me so long. Then I remember, it’s sitting on the kitchen counter and charging… where I left it.

I shouldn’t have walked to the grocery store this morning. I was only going to grab butter. I thought the exercise would do me good. I’m supposed to make cupcakes for the kids’ Bible study. It’s their turn to bring the snacks. I hear two more gunshots. I hold my breath… wishing it were my ears I’d been holding.

I peek around the corner of the dumpster’s half-tilted lid. I see two men falling, as they join what’s probably a corpse by now. Their heads thud to the ground. Blood splatters all around them, even on the wall of the apartment complex. Those long, leather-clad legs were the last I saw of the woman, before I ducked back behind the dumpster. After, I’m left to hear sirens and the sound of her stilettos echoing off the brick alley, as she runs.

I hear the screeching sound of the cop’s car rushing to a halt. I try to gather myself. I feel an enormous sense of relief, knowing that a cop has arrived. I come out of hiding. The cop screams, FREEZE! Hands up! Suddenly, I realize I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Chapter 2

The next thing I know, I’m in a sterile, white room. I’m surrounded by cops. There’s a cop who is recording me. He asks, You stated your name is Tammy Sue?

At this point, it feels like I’m being punished for something I didn’t expect, much less have anything to do with. Sue, my last name is Sue. I’ve told you a half-dozen times. Other officers have my purse. My license is in there. It clearly identifies me. I witnessed a crime. I didn’t do anything wrong!

The other boy in blue leans in closer. Close enough that I can smell the cheap coffee on his breath and read the name stitched on his uniform— Barrett. You said you were getting butter for your kids’ cupcakes?

I’m trying to remain patient, but we’ve been going over this for the last three hours already. How many times do we need to go over this? Yes, I was going to the store to buy butter, but the cupcakes weren’t going to be for my kids. The cupcakes were for their bible study class.

Barrett knocks his knuckles against the table. You said you saw the shooter? A woman? Was there anything that would make her stand out from the rest?

I hesitate, still in a bit of shock thinking about her. She spoke in a language I’m not familiar with.

Many questions later, I’m feeling like a scratched record. Brain drain has set in. I’m tired. All I want to do is go home to my loving husband and children, to get an overdue hug.

A detective comes in and goes directly to the one who’s been recording me. He says something, but I can’t hear. The three cops follow him back out, and I’m left alone.

Suddenly, I have all these emotions at once. Part of me wants to scream. A different part of me wants to cry. Whatever is left, just wants to remain brave. In the movies, they ask to speak with a lawyer. Is that what I’m supposed to do? I’ve never been in trouble before, much less held for interrogation as a suspect in a murder investigation.

Is that a two-way mirror? Are they staring at me? Are they hoping to break me? I feel alone and vulnerable.

The detective enters back in. He looks toward me with sympathetic eyes. Tammy Sue. Ms. Sue, is it okay with you if I call you Tammy? I believe you. My name is Detective Daniels. I’d like to ask you the same questions you’ve probably already answered. Will you be able to handle going through it one more time? He takes a seat across from me.

Can I go home afterward? I search his face and take a deeper look into his eyes. I’m searching for any sign that he might mislead me. He already has me feeling more comfortable than the keystone cops I’ve been dealing with since they brought me in.

Yes, you can go home right after my interview. Fifteen minutes more at the most. I promise. He leans back. Would you like some water?

My throat is dry, and every swallow is a challenge. Yes, please.

He gestures his hand toward the two-way mirror, reaches across the table, and pushes record.

I’m going to ask you a series of questions. I want you to be as direct with me as possible. What you have to say is very valuable, Tammy!

We are interrupted by a cop. He hands me a generic bottle of Mountain Water.

I take a drink before responding. Okay.

Detective Daniels sits up straight. I understand you were the key witness of the shooting?

Yes, I was hiding behind a dumpster.

Was the shooter male or female?

Female.

What kind of gun did she have?

Exasperated, I answer, Are you serious? How am I supposed to know that?!

He gestures with his arms as though he were holding a rifle. He then gestures a second time as if it were a pistol. Did she use a rifle? A shotgun? A handgun?

I recognize the subtle patience he is using with me. It’s the same way I deal with Chelsea, when she isn’t understanding a simple thing. Oh, right… it was a pistol. She held it in her left hand.

How old do you think she is?

I’d guestimate about her 40s.

Can you describe her for me?

She is Caucasian. She’s probably about 5’8 without heels. She has black, straight, shoulder-length hair. She was wearing tight, black leather pants. She was carrying a leopard clutch and wearing black stiletto heels. The heels were four-inches. I don’t often get a chance to wear them, but I have a green pair like them. I can’t remember anything else.

Did she look directly toward you?

Yes, before she ran off, but I don’t think she actually saw me. I was hiding behind the dumpster.

Detective Daniels presses stop. Tammy, I’m going to get your phone number. If you think of anything else, please notify us. He hands me a card.

I’m free? I couldn’t get out of my seat fast enough.

Yes, your husband arrived about ten minutes ago to pick you up.

Chapter 3

I’m taking my first self-defense class in Krav Maga. I’m excited, but I’m also tired. I’ve been hypervigilant since witnessing the murders. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since that day. I spend more on makeup, because now I have bags under my eyes that I must cover. I decided I didn’t like feeling vulnerable and scared all the time. It’s odd how this stranger of a woman has changed my entire life. Walking to the grocery store used to be an occasional change for me. Exercise and fresh air were good things. Ever since that day, if I even think about walking to the grocery store… it makes me curl up and not leave the house at all. I’ve been anti-social. It’s embarrassing that I’m jumpy.

Clark makes enough money that I’ve decided to sign up for private classes instead of the group classes they suggest for beginners. I’m excited for today. I’m tired of being terrified. I’m exhilarated to take back part of my life that this woman has stolen from me, and from my family. Now, I’m standing in