Drawing Blood

by Deirdre Verne

  “That’s why you came over,” I said. “You weren’t there for a follow-up medical exam. You were checking up on my father to see if the patient was really twelve.”

  Corey nodded. “When I saw your mother with a glass of wine in her hand, I knew for sure she hadn’t been the patient. I’d suspected as much. The chart had been correct and that meant only one thing. William was out of control, and he had used his children in a live experiment. I literally threw up in your bushes on my way out.”

  “Did you know he had been prepping Liz James as a potential surrogate for my embryos?”

  “I was eventually able to piece that part together.”

  While Corey and I had been “catching up” in the library after our sixteen-year hiatus, Frank and Kelly had found their way back downstairs.

  Kelly hugged the last bits of oxygen out of his emotionally drained sister-in-law. He looked at me and then back to Corey. “Is CeCe the donor?”

  “Non-birth mother,” I corrected. “For the record, I didn’t donate voluntarily.”

  Kelly sat down next to his sister-in-law. “Carolyn, help me understand what happened.”

  Corey had gnawed a chunk out of her lip, and I could see it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to tell her brother-in-law the truth. From what I could recall from the photos in her house,

  the Corey-Goff clan were a happy bunch, and Carolyn had been instrumental in the creation of the family. She took one of Kelly’s hands and placed it over her heart so he could feel the pounding. Hell,

  I could practically see her heart thumping from across the room.

  “The egg was harvested without CeCe’s knowledge when she was very young. Once I realized how sick CeCe’s father truly was, I became hell-bent on protecting the future of the embryo,” Corey said, and then turned to me. “Your father wasn’t interested in bringing a new life into the world; he wanted a test subject to study, and he had planned to make damn sure your fertilized egg would come to fruition. I worried that the child would be forced into a life full of disadvantages simply so William could prove out his DNA thesis.” Corey took a deep breath. “I figured the only place this life would be safe was with me. Physically with me.”

  The room fell silent.

  “After the fertilization,” she continued, “I had twenty-four hours to make my decision about implantation. I suspected William had already arranged a surrogate through Lifely, and I couldn’t let it happen.”

  My throat tightened, and I asked a rather insensitive question. “Why didn’t you flush it?”

  Corey fiddled with her collar to release a thin gold chain with a tiny cross dangling from the bottom. “Irish Catholic,” she said. “If the fertilization hadn’t occurred, I would have discarded the material, but I couldn’t make myself do it after fertilization. Mike and Kelly seemed like an obvious choice for parents. I was young, unmarried and still in medical school, but my brother and Kelly were”—she turned to Kelly—“perfect.”

  Like their house, I thought. The neat and tidy house at the end of the cul-de-sac, a stone’s throw away from the recycling center. One look at Kelly and I felt certain Gayle had had a jump-start on a good life. I still wasn’t sure what had brought us to this point, but I was determined to find out.

  I stared blankly at Dr. Carolyn Corey. Had she stolen Gayle or saved her? At this point, Gayle didn’t seem safe. In fact, I’d go so far as to say my daughter’s life was now in jeopardy.

  “Do you realize CeCe’s father is looking for Gayle?” Frank asked.

  “I do, and I think that might be my fault too,” Corey confessed. “When I read about the death of CeCe’s brother, I worried that the memories might stir up your father’s interest in relocating the embryo. William had no proof at the time, but he knew your genetic material had gone missing right after it was harvested. For the remaining months I worked at the labs, I hid my pregnancy and played dumb, which I’m not very good at.” Corey shrugged. “I couldn’t hide my disgust, and I’m sure William suspected I had something to do with the missing embryo.”

  “Did he accuse you of taking the fertilized embryo?” I asked.

  “I’d put him between a rock and a hard place. He knew the only reason I’d take the embryo was if I thought he had planned to do something inappropriate with it. He couldn’t approach me because I could have called his bluff. It probably drove him crazy.” She paused and then smirked. I could see the idea of upsetting my father had pleased her. She continued, “The problem is that six months ago, when your brother’s trial was in full swing, I panicked. The implantation was an event I had buried years ago, but I felt I could no longer hide it once I realized your father might be thinking about it too. I wondered if the trial had stirred up your father’s memories, so I told Kelly and Gayle that a man named Prentice might come around asking questions.” She paused. “I thought giving Gayle the information would protect her.”

  “You told Gayle?” Kelly bellowed. “Why would you do that? You know your niece. If you didn’t tell her the whole story, she’d try to figure it out herself.”

  “I realize that now,” Corey said, “and, I think that’s exactly what happened. I don’t think William searched for Gayle until she started to look for him, and I know she made it at least as far as Liz James.”

  “Gayle found her way to Liz?” Frank asked.

  “She did,” Corey said. “I hadn’t heard from Liz in years, and then she called me at work and told me Gayle had appeared at her door.”

  “Holy cow, Frank,” I said. “That’s how Liz James knew I was my father’s daughter. She saw the players line up, and she knew this would come to a head. She bided her time and then bribed anyone connected to this lunacy.” I looked at my wrist again. Damn, I had really liked that watch. I swung my watchless arm in frustration. “Well, now we know why my father stepped forward. Gayle’s curiosity lured him out of hiding.”

  “The timing is right,” Frank conceded. “It coincides with your father hiring Norma too.”

  “My new cleaning lady?” Corey asked. “She just started with us.”

  “Yeah.” I advised Corey, “You might want to change your locks unless you want an unannounced visit in the middle of the night from my father. I’m guessing he’s pretty annoyed with you.”

  Frank stood and paced the library. He pulled at his mouth but kept us waiting.

  “Frank?” Katrina nudged.

  He stopped and crossed his arms across his chest and said, “I’m going to bet your father has discovered his granddaughter’s weak spot: her relationship to Bob,” he said. “He’s had a few months head start on us, and he’s probably aware of what Gayle has gotten herself into at the recycling center. If we don’t figure out what Gayle knows about Bob’s murder, your father will get to her before we do.”

  “Now I believe you,” Kelly said to Frank.

  Frank sent an exhausted Carolyn and bewildered Kelly back to their respective homes, holding out hope that Gayle would return to one of the two houses before morning.

  Before they departed, Frank turned his attention to Corey. “So all Gayle said was she was safe?”

  Corey nodded and added, “She admitted she’d gotten herself into a bind, but she felt confident she could fix it.”

  “Those were her exact words?” I said.

  “Pretty much,” Corey answered. “She also said she knew where to hide so that William couldn’t find her.”

  I waited for Corey and Kelly to leave before I addressed Frank. “I’m afraid Gayle is trying to solve Bob’s murder on her own.”

  Frank frowned and scratched his beard. “It appears that way, doesn’t it?”

  forty-five

  wednesday, april 30

  The Christmas lights were bundled, and a few dozen computers were stacked and ready for transport. Between the decoy recyclables and the e-waste neighbors were likely to dump at their curb
s, Jimmy expected the route to be chock full of choice pickings for hungry scavengers. According to Jimmy, the scavengers would case the area during Wednesday’s evening hours and return after dark, before the scheduled Thursday-morning pickup. Although there was no law against taking curbside garbage, scavengers didn’t want the hassle of having someone call the police, because it would slow them down. Hence, scavenging typically occurred during the cover of nightfall. Frank had arranged for five unmarked cars to cover the streets in hopes of spotting the scavengers. Once the scavengers were identified, Frank hoped they’d lead us further up the garbage pyramid. Frank wasn’t interested in a two-bit scavenger; he wanted the guy that was buying in volume, enough to fill a warehouse. Although not endorsed by the Cold Spring Harbor police, Charlie and I had planned on taking the Gremlin out for a spin after dark.

  “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” I asked Katrina as I gave her belly a pat. What I guessed to be a foot kicked back at me. Boy, this kid was impatient. “Hey, you,” I yelled at Katrina’s mid-section. “You’re not done cooking yet.”

  “I think tomorrow is my day,” Katrina said as she helped Charlie load the car with snacks of an unhealthy variety for the stake-out. “If this baby were any lower it would need shoes,” she quipped, handing me a bag of unopened candy. A bag of unopened anything was a rarity at Harbor House.

  “Where did this come from?” I asked.

  “Whoops,” Charlie said, pointing to the recently purchased bags of candy. “The candy would be my fault. I had an uncontrollable fit of consumerism.”

  “I think I can ignore it,” I said as I opened the bag and shared some treats with Katrina. “We’ll be back before daybreak,” I assured her before climbing into the car with Charlie.

  We turned out of the driveway and headed to the center of the square-mile area Frank and Jimmy had drawn out on the town map. As we entered the Recyclable Zone, as Charlie insisted on calling it, it was obvious the extensive preparation had been worth the effort. Almost every house had a neat pile of tempting trash just begging for a scavenger to haul away.

  “This rocks,” I said as I eyed the garbage. “You know, we could actually use some Christmas lights.”

  “Don’t worry, I kept a few boxes for us,” Charlie said as he chomped through a bag of heavily seasoned chips.

  We passed Cheski and Lamendola and moved on until I found an unmanned street. I parked the Gremlin and turned off the lights. Charlie dusted his hands off and lit up his phone. “If someone spots us, we’ll pretend to make out.”

  I laughed casually, but I was so nervous about where this sting would lead, I would have made out with Bob’s murderer if I thought it would help. “Angry Birds?” I said, glancing at Charlie’s phone.

  “Nope. I created an avatar for myself on the Other Life site, and I’ve been trying to track the Maid. Charlie shook his head, indicating his frustration. “I don’t think she’s been online since the day we scared her off.”

  “If I were Gayle, I’d have created a new avatar by now.”

  Charlie looked at me. “Ce,” he said, “that’s an epic thought.”

  And it was. I realized we had been insanely remiss in not considering the possibility that Gayle, my hair-altering biological daughter, could have taken on a new virtual identity. If the Other Life site was a communication tool for Gayle, then she’d still need to be on it to further her effort to solve Bob’s murder.

  I leaned into Charlie’s phone to see the Other Life home page. “I’m not even sure what to look for,” I said.

  Charlie took a deep breath and exhaled. His breath smelled like barbecue sauce, and I had to admit, it was a bit intoxicating—in a drunk fraternity party sort of way. “Frank’s gonna kill me for this,” Charlie said, punching the pad on his phone, “but I’m going to log on as Bob for a minute to see if I can root her out with her new identity.”

  “You can’t do that,” I said as I grabbed the phone. “You’ll scare her off again.”

  “If Bob doesn’t send a message, she may not notice his avatar has signed on.”

  “She’ll know!” I yelled and made another play for the phone. While Charlie and I were wrestling for the phone, I caught sight of a car moving slowly down the street with its lights off. I took Charlie’s face in my hands and kissed his chip-laced lips. Without breaking the kiss, I forced his head to the right so I could see over his shoulder and out the car’s back window. Charlie, thinking my aggression was rough foreplay, stuck his tongue in my mouth.

  I pushed him back. “Dude, this is the undercover part. It only needs to look real.” Then I tilted my head at the car inching along the road.

  Charlie wiped his mouth and adjusted the rearview mirror for a better view. I rested my head on Charlie’s shoulder, as if the lovers had taken a breather. “Roll down the window,” I whispered.

  A cool breeze entered the car and night sounds filled the Gremlin. Luckily for us, the scavengers stopped at the house nearest our car. Of course, the fact that we could see them meant they could also see us. Charlie put his arm around me and nibbled at my ear. “Just keeping it real,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to blow our cover.”

  I allowed Charlie a tiny bite out of my ear lobe as I studied the car. “Dodge Caravan with New York plates,” I said. Charlie licked my neck, and I pinched his arm. “Cut it out,” I hissed. Charlie reached under my shirt and around my back, feigning an attempt to unsnap my bra. “Nice try. You know I never wear a bra.”

  “Just checking,” he panted in my ear, and I shoved him when I heard chattering from the direction of the scavenger’s car.

  “They’re speaking Chinese,” I whispered as I tucked my t-shirt securely into my shorts. “The tuba lady said the truck that emptied the warehouse had Chinese lettering.”

  Charlie turned his phone back on and snapped some pictures, and then he texted Frank. Within seconds, Frank texted back. The other police vehicles had all spotted the same thing. The scavengers were all Asian.

  “What else did Frank say?” I asked.

  Charlie read Frank’s text: “Great undercover work, Chuck. Now take your hands off my girlfriend and bring her home.”

  “Come on.”

  “The last part is true. He wants me to take you home.”

  “No way,” I said, voice rising. One of the scavengers stopped loading their car and glanced in our direction. Charlie took the opportunity to kiss me again. As the car pulled away, Charlie released me. It took a second longer to disengage from our embrace than I would have liked, but I chalked it up to tension and an excessive amount of sugar.

  As soon as the scavengers were out of sight, Charlie jumped out of the car and ran over to the nearest house. I watched as he bent down and searched the shell of a computer. He jogged back with a few empty boxes in his hand and loaded them into the trunk. “The computer’s been stripped and the Christmas lights are gone.”

  “What about the hard drive?”

  “Intact,” he said as he pointed forward. “Let’s see if we can catch up to them.”

  I drove slowly enough to not arouse suspicion but fast enough to catch a boxy Volvo station wagon combing the street for recyclables.

  “More scavengers,” I said as the Volvo’s brake lights indicated the car was about to stop. “What should I do?”

  Charlie said, “Roll slowly.”

  As we came up behind the wagon, my nerves kicked in, and the overwhelming smell of junk food in the car triggered a wave of nausea. Charlie rolled down his window and leaned out.

  “Good haul tonight. Huh?” Charlie called out to one of the scavengers filling the trunk with boxes of Christmas lights. Charlie pointed to our hatchback crammed with boxes. The Asian man nodded quietly. Charlie turned to me and mouthed, Stop. “Are you headed back to Chinatown?” Charlie asked, and the man nodded again. “See you there,” Charlie replied giving him a thumbs-up.

&nbs
p; The man smiled. Just one big, happy family of scavengers.

  Well,” Charlie said as he dialed his phone. “At least now we know the scavengers’ final destination.”

  “How did you know they were going to Chinatown?”

  Charlie laughed. “Racial profiling at its worst.”

  I heard Frank’s voice through Charlie’s phone. “Got anything?”

  Charlie told Frank about his exchange with the scavenger. He hung up the phone and reached for the bag of candies. “Road trip,” he said.

  “Seriously?” I asked. “Are we really driving to Chinatown?” Charlie offered me some sweets, and I slapped his hand. “I’m freaking out over here. You’re not nervous?”

  “No,” Charlie said, looking down at his phone.

  “Can’t you at least be nervous for me?” I asked. “My daughter is in trouble and the only lead we’ve got is Chinatown. Have you ever been to Chinatown in the middle of the night?” I prattled on, my frayed nerves making me sound exactly how I felt—scared and helpless. I swatted at Charlie’s hands again as he played with his phone.

  He held his cell up in the air like a bratty boy torturing a shorter sibling. “I’m not worried,” he said, “because I think I’ve got a lead on the Maid.” Charlie held up his phone to reveal an Other Life virtual world, squeezed into the frame of his cell phone. “I think she’s using the name Marian now.”

  “As in Maid Marian,” I said slowly. “And what had Bob been calling himself?”

  “Bobin,” Charlie reminded me.

  “Bobin and Maid Marian,” I said. “Why the Robin Hood reference? Are they giving garbage to people who don’t have garbage?”

  “The swelling masses of the garbage-poor,” Charlie joked as he gestured to Frank’s car.

  We pulled next to Frank, and he instructed us to park. “Any chance I can get you to go home?” Frank asked me. I shook my head and moved to the back seat of the Gremlin while Frank took the driver’s seat. He started the car and checked the gas gauge. That’s when I knew we really were headed to Chinatown.