Identity Crisis - Pt 7

Part 1: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-yb14r02l5

Part 2: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-2

Part 3: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-3

Part 4: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-4

Part 5: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-5

Part 6: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-6

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Identity Crisis

Chapter 7

Pulling up to 220 Foxmoor Dr. behind the Marcelluses, SA Davenport and Detective Perkins exited the SUV. As Davenport pulled out his laptop and some equipment, Randy walked up to the Marcelluses who were milling uncertainly by the front of the garage. “A squad car will be here in just a couple of minutes. We can go inside, but I ask the two of you stay in the living room with me for now. We have to be absolutely certain that nothing untoward happens while the search warrant is executed.”

At that moment a patrol car pulled up and two officers got out. Davenport smiled when he saw one of the two was Officer Feliciano. The other was a white male with blonde hair who looked to be in his early twenties. As the two patrol cops and Agent Davenport walked up, Davenport nodded to Randy that they were ready. Across the street Mr. Wilkins opened his front door and stood watching. He was a black man - somewhere in his mid-seventies, Alicia thought. He was the neighborhood busybody since his wife was bedridden. No doubt the whole neighborhood would hear about the horrible criminals of 220 Foxmoor. Alicia sniffed, and gave him a small wave, which he returned before going back inside. A few seconds later the edge of the curtain on the other house nudged aside, creating a space where the busybody could watch. Clark harrumphed, shaking his head. Davenport motioned them toward the front door.

Stepping inside, Randy asked the two worried parents if they could make a pot of coffee. He figured that a normal activity would help settle them down. Alicia Marcellus went into the kitchen, followed by the young cop who introduced himself as Officer Gibson.

“Mr. Marcellus, your computer and files are in the den?” Davenport asked.

“Yes. That’s where I work from.”

“Would you mind showing me?” As the agent and Clark Marcellus headed into the den, Randy turned to the cute Hispanic officer. “Jalynda, we need to look for any paperwork or files related to Jason’s adoption. Not only from Child Haven, but anything from other agencies approached first. You start in here. I’ll head to the parent’s bedroom.”

Jalynda nodded and headed to the end tables by the leather couch.

In the den, Agent Davenport set up his laptop next to Clark’s computer station and pulled out some cables. Marrying the two computers together, he asked for the man’s password.

“Quentin0407,” the man said.

Davenport chuckled. “Not exactly the securest password.”

Clark looked chagrined.

Jalynda poked her head into the den, giving the FBI agent a beaming smile which he returned. “You good in here?”

“We’re good here. Thanks. Why don’t you check Jason’s room? I’m sure Mr. Marcellus would be happy to show you where it is.”

Clark nodded and, leaving the FBI agent who was busily scrolling through his files, headed down the hall with the officer.

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Arriving at the Marriott, the Trilbies headed to room 222. Marcus’ phone rang just as they closed the door behind them. Looking at the screen he saw it was his brother Phil. Hitting accept he put it to his ear. “Hey Phil.”

“Marcus. What’s going on? Do you have Jason?”

“It’s … complicated…, I guess.” Marcus gave a light laugh, running his free hand through his hair.

“What does that mean? He’s coming home, right?”

“He will. The FBI took a DNA swab. He says they’ll have the results tomorrow.”

“DNA. That’s ridiculous. For God’s sake, just look at him. That is Jason. He looks exactly like Anthony.”

“Yeah, I know. But they have to, according to Agent Davenport, dot the i’s and cross the t’s.”

“I suppose. Hey, Melinda wants to speak with her mother.” Marcus handed the phone to his wife, who was hovering next to him. Heading to the sitting area, he flopped onto the cloth covered couch. Anthony headed to the refrigerator.

“Mom! You got my brother or what?”

Lorraine laughed. Melinda was so direct and excitable. “He’s found. He’s…, wonderful.”

“Okay then. So, when do I meet him?”

“Probably tomorrow honey. Things are kind of mixed up right now with the police investigation and all that. How was your drama camp?”

“It was great. I got to play Joan of Arc. I met some really cool people.”

“That’s great dear. Tell us all about it tomorrow. Can you put Uncle Phil back on?”

“Sure. Also, Tom and Howie say hi.”

“Give them our love dear.”

“Will do.” Melinda handed the phone back to her uncle.

“Phil, can you come here tomorrow?”

“Of course. It’s the Marriott on Woodland Blvd, right?”

“Yes. We’re in room 222.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in the morning around nine-thirty or ten with Melinda and the boys.”

“What about Susan? I guess she has classes to teach.”

“Yeah. Time, tide, and second graders wait for no man…, or woman. But, for this, I think Tom and Howie can play hookie for a day.”

“See you in the morning. And, Phil, thanks.” Hanging up, Lorraine looked at the phone for a few seconds.

“How’s the drama queen?” Anthony queried from the kitchen area of the suite where he was digging some lunch meat from the refrigerator.

“She’s fine. Apparently she enjoyed drama camp.” Lorraine headed to the living area and sat next to her husband, laying her head on his shoulder. “Can we call Jason?”

“I guess. I don’t want to spook him…”

“He’s our son. I just want to tell him I love him.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and took a bite of his sandwich. “I’m going to hit the pool.”

Clark waved affirmative to his son and dialed the number Jason had given them. He got voice mail. Unsure of what to say he settled for, “Jason, it’s …, Dad.”

“And Mom,” Lorraine added in.”

“We just wanted to tell you we love you son. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

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Agent Davenport finished copying all the files that referred to Jason’s adoption and checked with Detective Perkins and the two patrol officers. Officer Gibson stayed in the living room with the Marcelluses as the other three stepped out front.

“Did either of you find anything that seemed incriminating?” he asked. Jalynda and Randy both answered in the negative.

“I’m fairly sure the Marcelluses are victims in this. I’m not inclined to try to press charges for the aiding and abetting.”

“I agree,” Detective Perkins said. Jalynda nodded.

“I do have some names and addresses from the files. I need to call my boss and get the ball rolling on that. Randy, you want to explain to the Marcelluses that we’ll be needing them to testify when this comes together?”

Randy nodded. “No problem.” The detective headed back inside.

“Uhm, Agent Davenport…?”

Davenport looked at the female officer. She was trim, athletic, and pretty in a businesslike way.

“I told Jason he could give you my number. You know, in case you needed anything from us here.” She shuffled her feet slightly, looking nervous.

Davenport felt a warmth flow through his system. He hoped the cute Hispanic officer found him as attractive as he did her. It had been eight months since his last girlfriend walked out on him. She said he was married to the FBI and she couldn’t compete. He hadn’t really minded her breaking up with him, but he did miss female companionship and a police officer was more likely to understand the rigors of his job than Evelyn had been.

“That would be great. How about we exchange cells? Then, you can call me if anything interesting turns up.”

“Sure. No problem. By the way, my name is Jalynda.” She smiled warmly at him.

“Jalynda. I like it. It’s unusual. I’m Stephen.”

The two entered each other’s numbers into their cell phones. Jalynda turned to go back inside.

“Officer Feliciano? Jalynda…” Davenport said as she started to walk away.

Turning, Jalynda looked at him. The agent had seemed self-assured and confident, but now he looked like a boy worried about saying the wrong thing. She thought it was cute. “Yes, Agent Davenport?”

“Would you like to get together later…, to discuss the case. Over dinner.”

Jalynda lit up inside, feeling almost like a teenager. “I’d love to. My shift ends at seven.”

“Uhm, should I pick you up at the station?”

Jalynda looked at him and grinned. She had been sure to note that the man had no wedding ring. Nor did he have a telltale whiter ring of skin where one would normally be. “Stephen, you’re not one of those,” making air quotes, “a cop in every city” agents, are you?”

“No. Currently completely free and unattached. Scout’s honor.”

“Okay then. I’ll need to get out of this uniform and freshen up. How about you pick me up at home at eight. I’ll text you the address.”

Davenport beamed. He knew this probably wouldn’t go very far given he worked out of Indianapolis and she was in Deland, Florida; still, he thought a dinner with the pretty and intelligent officer would be very pleasant. “Sounds good…, Jalynda.”

As the agent went to put his computer equipment and papers in the vehicle, Jalynda chuckled. She found his shyness attractive. Most FBI agents she had met in the past were too cocksure. Agent Davenport actually seemed like a nice guy. Unlike many FBI agents, he didn’t seem to look down on city cops like they were secondhand help just there to assist and be quiet. Besides, he was really handsome. She looked forward to dinner. Maybe the red dress? she thought as she headed back inside.

Clark and Lorraine Marcellus, holding hands for mutual support, opened their son’s bedroom door. The bed, as usual, was unmade. His PS5, television, and the stack of fames sat on top of his dresser as always. Above his soccer trophies, lined up on a shelf, was a poster of David Beckham. There was a picture of the three of them at the Smokey Mountain National Forest from over the summer set up on the end of the trophy shelf. On the end table next to the bed, right under the lamp, was a picture of his girlfriend. The two of them just stood there for two minutes, looking silently. Alicia had silent tears dripping down her cheeks. Clark turned to his wife and took her in his arms. For a moment they just held each other silently before closing the door and heading to the kitchen to make something to eat.

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Part 8: https://vocal.media/fiction/identity-crisis-pt-8