Spencer : Unreasonable doubts

"How did you know that I love Italian food?"

I looked up from my menu, staring at those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. Somehow they seemed deeper tonight. My very sad heart skipped a beat. "Maybe you should leave the judging of character up to the pros?"

Ashley threw her head back and laughed. It was a good thing I was sitting, my knees were mush from the moment I saw her. Dressed in a very fitting black, strapless, summer dress, she was breathtaking. Everything about her was beautiful. I just don't understand…

"So, tell me, Miss Wilson, pro judge of character, who do you see in front of you?" Ashley challenged.

She made it too easy for me. "Ladies? Are you ready to place your order?"

I tried to hide my disappointment at being interrupted. "The beautiful lady over here will have…"

"Fettuccine Alfredo," Ashley confirmed.

I smiled at her choice. This restaurant made the best Alfredo in town. "I'll have your House Beef Meatballs." Which was also the best spaghetti and meatballs in town.

Our waiter smiled knowingly. "And would you like me to fill up your glasses?" He pointed to our wine glasses, already down to a quarter.

"Thank you," I gestured for him to do so.

Once the waiter left, I was already lost in my train of thought. Ashley came to my rescue, eager to know what I thought of her. "So, shall we continue? Who do you think I am?"

I chuckled. "Okay, well, I do have a bit of an advantage since I know you a little by now. But let me see… Beautiful, smart, numbers lady; that's what I know. My guess is that you're between 23 and 25, you were born and raised in LA, and unfortunate life events have changed you into a very determined young lady who wants nothing more but to succeed and rise above everything that has uprooted your life in the first place?"

I had a very unfair advantage as I knew more about her than I led on. I watched Ashley's face turn from smiling happily after complimenting her, to almost completely sad at what she wanted as a future. "I'm sorry… did I offend you in any way?" I tried meekly.

Ashley gave a weak smile and shook her head. "No, it's okay. Everything was quite spot on. Except my age of course; however much I wish to be still 23, I am in fact 25."

She looked exceptionally young for her age. If I didn't know beforehand, I would've thought she was fresh out of high school. Kind of the same way she thought I was.

I stared into her eyes and gave a supportive smile. "Tell me who you are, Ashley Davies." I was silently begging for the truth – the full truth, but wondered if Ashley even knew what that was.

"Where do you want me to start?" she asked sweetly.

"Right from the beginning."

I tried to hang onto every word that came out of Ashley's mouth. But at times I found it difficult, because there was no way of telling what was real. During our meal I'd noticed a band-aid on Ashley's arm, and Kyla's words about Ashley going to rehab came back to me. I didn't really believe everything that came out of Kyla Davies' mouth, but some of the things she'd told me started adding up as the night progressed.

"Ash, how did your midterms go? I forgot to ask," I interrupted her. I wasn't really listening anyway. I felt terrible.

Ashley's face lit up, and my heart broke for her. If only she knew…

"It went great, actually. There's a couple of subjects I feel a bit unsure of, but I definitely know that I'm acing practicals."

I faked a smile and took a sip of my wine. "Where is it that you're enrolled again?"

Ashley gave me an odd look. Shit, am I being too obvious? "Part time UCLA… why?"

Fuck.

"I was considering to maybe also study something… you know, do something with my life."

Her smile was back, and it broke me the way she got excited and tried to encourage me.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Keep pushing for intel.

I've never reached so many crossroads in my mind before. Ever. I was torn between getting my job done and proving the Davies' innocence. But then there was also Kyla's version of things and Ashley's version of things. My intel was getting blurred because I didn't know who was telling the truth anymore. Kyla led me to believe that Ashley was unhinged and put so many doubts in my mind about any information I received from Ashley. Which was why I was inclined to believe that Kyla was hiding things, and that Chelsea was right about them. Her. And then there was Ashley… the band-aid, her unrealistic dreams, the terrible coffee, the assault incident, the two years in jail, yet there was an innocence that literally exuded off of her. It was all so confusing. And what made it so much worse was that this beautiful brunette was staring at me with her exotic brown eyes, her gentle smile melting away all the doubts I had about her sanity.

"Spencer?"

She was still staring at me.

"Are you alright?"

Still staring. Concern was written all over her face.

Oh! She was actually talking to me! Shit!

I felt like such a jerk.

"I'm sorry, Ashley, can you excuse me for a minute?" I pushed my chair back and got up. I needed cold water in my face.

"Uhm, sure. Are you okay, though? Do you need anything? Can I order you something sweet – you look a little pale there." She sounded like a perfectly normal human being. There was no way Ashley could be crazy, right?

"I'm good thanks, just need to freshen up a little."

"Are you sure you're okay? I'm not boring you, am I?" Ashley asked shyly as I returned to the table.

I smiled and sat down. The cold water had helped tremendously. "I'm okay, Ash. And no, you're not boring me at all. So where were we?"

I'd decided to ignore what Kyla had told me, in order to concentrate on anything I could get out of Ashley. I'd try and filter out the lies later. I just needed something now – anything.

I noticed that Ashley's happiness had faltered a little. Things were about to get serious. I never realized that she wanted to tell the truth so badly.

"You know, when you're watching a movie, especially like crime dramas, there's almost always the case where someone had a fake ID of some sort?"

Oh. Fuck.

My heart stopped. Does she know?

I nodded for Ashley to continue despite the fact that I could barely breathe. She seemed oblivious to my discomfort of being found out.

"And you wonder by yourself, how could people believe this shit – it's so obvious that the person is hiding something."

I nodded again, refusing to open my mouth and blurt out an apology. Just in case…

"Well, it actually does happen in real life. People do get away with fake identities."

Breathe, Carlin, breathe!

"Kyla is one of them. Her real surname is Woods, thanks to my dad who slept around in his younger days. And she is originally from Baltimore, not LA."

My eyes went wide. I breathed out a sigh of relief and swallowed the entire refill of wine the waiter had poured.

Ashley was still oblivious to my reactions. It was evident that she felt she had to get everything off her chest without any interruptions.

"She's actually a runaway convict – she's committed some serious crimes in Baltimore, Spence."

You know when you're in love with someone and you're wondering if they love you back, you play that game with an ox-eye daisy, or any flower for that matter, called "effeuiller la marguerite" in French? For a very brief moment I considered playing that to figure out whether Ashley was telling the truth or was slightly in a delusional state. "She's lying… she's lying – not…"

It was all getting too much. Kyla saying Ashley is crazy, Ashley claiming that Kyla is a runaway convict… Were they setting me up? Was Chelsea right about both of them all along?

Ashley was still oblivious, and just continued her story.

"She's a cold blooded murderer, Spence, and sometimes I get so scared. She's got a short temper, and I know she's got guns at the house."

Please, please, please tell the truth…

"I didn't hurt that guy, Spencer. It was Kyla. I was just so scared for her, you know? If the police found out who she really was, she was going to be locked away for good. And I know that it doesn't really make me less of a criminal because I'm basically an accomplice because I know who she is… it's just, she's all I have left. If she had to go away, what would have happened to me?"

She finally looked up. I stared at her, my mind exploding from information overload and doubts.

But when I looked into those eyes and saw a sincerity I've yet to experience in my life, I believed her. I believed Ashley Davies. And I believed in her, and I believed that she was innocent, and really trying to be the person she claimed she was - that determined young lady who wanted nothing more but to succeed and rise above everything that had uprooted her life.

"…she's lying – not…"

It was a beautiful evening out. Everything about this night was supposed to be magical. Ashley was magical. I watched her slip on some Sneakers that she'd grabbed from her car, and slid down into the go-kart that I held still for her. I'd already gotten two engines running, and was excited to have some childish fun and forget for a moment that things were so very confusing. As amazing as our evening was, there were also some tense moments. Sad moments. Moments of hard truths. Mostly from Ashley – I've refrained from revealing too much about my own life.

So, cliché as my choice of go-karting was, I also realized it was the perfect way to cheer us up, and let her know a little bit about myself without compromising anything.

It felt unfair, once again, that I now held so much information about her, but I couldn't share half of my life with her.

"Warm up lap first? Then 10 laps, I've set the computer," I instructed. I was fortunate to have had this. Dad was very supportive when I asked him if I could take a date out karting in the middle of the night.

Ashley nodded and pulled her helmet over her head. My heart warmed at the thought that she was smiling and having fun. Wasn't that how dates were supposed to be? I'd forgotten how it felt… the last time I went on a date I was still in high school, and ended up getting my heart broken.

I got into my own kart and fastened my helmet. This was going to be fun…

And it was. I couldn't remember the last time I have laughed so much. And to be honest, I had fun. Pure unadulterated fun. Ashley was a great sport. I let her win the race, it was neck and neck anyway.

I made another lap and pressed on the brake when I found a spot in the open moonlight. Ashley followed. We took our helmets off and giggled like teenagers.

"That was a lot of fun," Ashley admitted.

"Yeah, it was. Thank you – it's been an amazing evening so far."

"So, is this the part where I get to know the real Spencer Wilson?"

I smiled at her. "Not so bad at reading people after all."

"Maybe… maybe not," she teased.

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. I had to be very careful what I told her and what I left out. "I practically live here. Arthur's been a great boss to me. I moved to LA from Washington after I finished my last sentence. Figured it'd be better for a fresh start."

It sickened me to tell so many lies. Especially after Ashley had revealed truths to me that was going to change the course of this entire investigation.

"I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I mean, when I was still in school I used to race karts with my dad all the time. That's basically the only life experience I had when I came here. Karts and cars. Well, still have. Arthur gave me a job immediately – it seemed like he needed extra hands, I guess I came just at the right time."

Ashley frowned. "What about your parents? Any siblings?"

Easiest way out? "No siblings. My parents died in a car accident when I just started junior year. I lived with friends after that, not the best kind, I guess that's where things went south for me. We boosted cars, we drank a lot. I was in more trouble than I was not. I don't remember much, it feels like my life only really started when I came to LA."

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents." Fuck, this is killing me. "And I'm sorry that you went through all that bad stuff in your life. I guess we have something in common, don't we?"

I laughed ruefully. "We might have jail time in common, but yours was unfair. Mine, not so much." If I got fired I could always take up acting? "Come on, it's getting late. Do you want to come over to my place for some coffee before you go?"

"I would love to."

Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz… Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz… Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz…

I groaned in frustration and reached out to my nightstand, feeling around for my phone. I was barely awake but suddenly very alert when I saw the time. 03:05 AM. And then the number. Sergeant Lewis.

"Hello?" I whispered. It wasn't intentional, but I thanked my guardian angel when I remembered I wasn't alone in bed.

"Another truck was hijacked tonight. Montanio has made a decision that we're gonna make a move on Carmen Mendez at sixteen hundred hours. If you agree, just say yes."

My mind was reeling. Another hijacking? Dad was right in his predictions that it might happen before Desert Quarter. And if Ashley was here with me… did that mean she wasn't involved? All the evidence pointed to Carmen, but we didn't have the hard proof that I wanted. It was Paula's call. All I had to do was show up for the action.

"Yes."

"Spence?" Oh shit.

"Sorry, but you've got the wrong number."

I switched off my phone and turned towards Ashley. She smiled lazily up at me. "I get that all the time."

Sadly, I don't. "Shh, let's go back to sleep," I whispered, leaning down to kiss her. It was soft, sensuous, and turning me on. Ashley returned the kiss with as much intensity, just fueling the fire inside me even more. After hours of lovemaking, I was surprised that she still had energy left to go again. But who was I to complain?

Operation arrest-Carmen-and-crew was exhilarating . I was dressed in full tactical uniform, which I'd come to realize I've missed a bit since I started doing so much undercover work the past year. A beanie hid my face from exposure. A bullet-proof vest covered my upper body. I wore combat boots. My father would have a heart-attack if he saw me like that. I didn't blame him for being overprotective – we only had each other.

We had tracked down each of her crew members , and did the arrests in a swift manner. With an army of cops, I'm sure they didn't know what hit them. The last one was Carmen. She had attended a family dinner at the Mendez-mansion in a very upmarket estate. Her family was high-profile and I had a suspicion that she wouldn't be in jail for long. Depending on how soon her father would forgive her – the arrest in front of her family was embarrassing to say the least, and he made sure to have her know that.

Much later that night I received a call to head over to our undercover headquarters. I was relieved about the distraction – Ashley had been on my mind ever since I'd gotten home. I was still trying to process everything she'd told me about Kyla, and everything Kyla had told me about Ashley.

Paula was on the phone with someone when I got there and plunged down on a desk chair. Chelsea was the only other person at the house. I wondered what was going on.

"Yes sir. I know sir. Got it." It felt strange to hear Paula address someone like that. The seriousness in her voice kept me from joking about it to Chelsea, who looked very worried.

After Paula put the phone down, she sighed and looked at us. Uh-oh. Something was wrong, very wrong. "The sound systems and TV's were purchased legally. The only thing we could charge them with was for some outstanding speeding tickets."

I wanted to express my earlier warnings about not having any hard evidence. But now was not the time. The look on Paula's face told me to keep my mouth shut for once. And I did just that.

"So they're all out?" Chelsea asked, even though we all knew what the answer was.

"Yes, Mendez's family bailed them out." Paula was silent for a moment, looking me up and down. "Is this the kind of intelligence I can expect from you, Carlin?"

Whoa! Hold on! What the fuck?

I lost all my resolve to act like the adult I was. "You're putting this on me?" I practically yelled at her.

Paula remained calm. "I can put this on whoever I want, kid. Perks of being a Special Agent."

I jumped up. "You can't do that! There's no way – "

Paula interrupted me the same way she always did. "I don't care what you say, Carlin. We play by my rules here. I don't care what you have to do, but you have 48 hours to catch these criminals, or you might want to think about another career. Now get out of my face."

She didn't have to invite me twice. I stormed out of the house, fuming. How dared she blame me? I'd warned them! She was the one who made the call! I was so angry that I haven't even noticed that Chelsea had followed me out.

She was calm, but the way she spoke to me was one of great authority – something that I appreciated about her. "It's the Davies', Spencer, it always has been. Now, I know you've been lying to me, but have you been lying to yourself because you can't see past Ashley?"

I stared at her in silent disbelief. She was right, however. Chelsea knew me well. But I was so conflicted between what I had learned and wanted to be the truth, and what was actually the blatant truth. I hated myself for becoming emotionally involved.

"Kyla won't go to prison, and Ashley won't go back," I stated. After what Ashley had told me, I knew Kyla would leave the States if she had to. And no doubt she'd take her family with her. I had to work very fast to get all the information I needed on Kyla Woods – before I could even mention it to my Sergeant.

Chelsea put her hand on my shoulder. "I trust you Spencer. Don't make me regret it."