Indirect Route

by Matthews, Claire

  “Aaron!” Janie faced him with a look of genuine horror. “Impersonating an FBI agent is, like, a serious crime. No way are you using it.”

  “I said I’d only use it as a last resort,” he argued.

  “No! No resort! You’ll go to jail, and believe me, they won’t give you any prepackaged food there. It’s like, all cooked in a huge pot and slapped on a tray. You’d be dead in a month.”

  “Alright, calm down. We’ll do this on the up and up. But the ID would get us access to a lot more stuff, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  Janie gave him her own version of the eye roll, and they drove in silence until they parked in the visitor lot of the courthouse annex.

  “It’s show time,” Aaron said, grabbing her hand and giving it a supportive squeeze. Janie looked into his eyes and was suddenly overcome by gratitude.

  “Listen, whatever happens on this little adventure of ours, I just want to thank you. I couldn’t rest knowing that my dad might be out there somewhere, and I couldn’t have even started to find him without your help.” Before she could think better of it, she leaned over the seat and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so special, Aaron.” Her whispered words hung in the air, until he backed up with a bit of a jerk and opened the car door.

  “You’re pretty great yourself,” he said, tugging a lock of her hair. By the time she’d stepped into the parking lot, the moment had passed.

  “Look, I’ve dealt with a lot of these county clerk types in the past. Why don’t you let me do the talking, okay?”

  Janie frowned, not sure she liked being put in the back seat. “Okay,” she said reluctantly.

  “Just because it’s easier to get what you want when you stick to their expected script,” he explained, and she could tell he was trying to take the sting out of his directive.

  “Fine. But if you start pulling out any type of bogus identification, we are aborting immediately.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Janie wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the actual process of standing in line, filling out the records request, and receiving the printed files from the middle-aged, bleached blonde clerk was a lot less dramatic than she’d anticipated.

  “That’s it?” She whispered as they took the thin pile of documents and existed into the musty lobby of the courthouse building.

  “That’s it.”

  “So, what did we get?” Janie was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement.

  “I don’t know, you mad woman. Let’s go find out.” They exited the courthouse plaza and found the nearest bench, which was fortuitously under a shade tree.

  “Okay.” Aaron spread the sheets across his lap. “Kenneth Brown had a 1985 Chrevrolet Chevette registered in his name in 1990. He renewed it every year until 1994.”

  “I was born in 1992,” Janie whispered.

  “He’s also listed on the title of a house, at 13867 Cypress Hills Dr. In 1990.” Aaron paused.

  “What?” Janie asked, taking the sheet of paper from his hand. The title looked official, with the seal of the state of Alabama, and some scratchy signatures on the bottom. Under title holder, she saw the name Kenneth Brown…followed underneath by the name Elaine Brown.

  “Elaine Brown? My mom’s name is Elaine Block. Does this mean they were married?” Janie felt her heartbeat kick into overdrive. They were married? How could her mother lie to her like that? And why?

  “Maybe. Maybe it’s another Elaine. Maybe he lied about being married on the title paperwork. It’s dangerous to assume at this point.”

  Janie nodded her head, still too upset to speak. It seemed like her mother’s life had been a lie. That meant her life was a lie. What if her father had been looking for her all this time? What if her mother had kept him from her? She shook her head, physically trying to rid herself of the crazy thoughts roiling through her mind.

  “C’mon,” Aaron said, taking her upper arm and gently leading her to the car. “We don’t know enough yet to come to any conclusions. Let’s go drive by this house on Cypress Hills and see what it looks like now.” Janie nodded again.

  “Hey. You okay?” Aaron’s voice was soft, and he seemed concerned. She gave him a shaky smile.

  “Sure. It’s just, you know, a shock. But you’re right. Let’s see what else we find before we get ahead of ourselves.”

  Aaron gave her an encouraging chin-lift as they got in the car. He set her to work finding the address on her phone’s GPS app, and within ten minutes they were stopped in front of a one-story house with light gray brick in a lower-middle class part of town. They yard was large but unkempt, and there was an old plastic kiddie pool full of brown water under an oak tree.

  “This is it,” Aaron said. “Looks lived-in. Should we go knock on the door?”

  “What?” Janie was horrified. “We can’t just walk up and knock. These people will think we’re freaks.”

  “I could flash the FBI badge,” Aaron said with a smirk. Janie whacked him in the chest and continued her fretting. “And anyway, what would we say when they opened the door? ‘We’re looking for a man who may have lived here 30 years ago, who may be my father, who may have been married to my mother? Or he may not even exist.’ They’d slam the door in our faces.”

  “No they wouldn’t,” Aaron said with a scoff. “We’re normal looking people. For the most part,” he said, eyebrows raised pointedly. “We can explain clearly and without emotion. We won’t make a move to go into the house unless they invite us in. We’ll come across as interested, but not obsessed. It’ll be fine.”

  “You go without me,” Janie said suddenly. “I can’t do it.”

  “It’ll sound better if you are involved. People always trust women more than men. Plus, he’s you’re alleged father, so—“

  “No, Aaron, please. I can’t. I’ll get all tongue-tied, or weepy. It’ll be a disaster. I’m horrible when I’m nervous.” She stopped and gave him a doleful gaze. “Please?”

  Aaron closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. But stay in the car. And when I point at you, wave through the window. I’ll tell them you’re sick with the flu, and don’t want to infect their kids.”

  “Should it scare me that you’re such a good liar?”

  “Probably,” Aaron murmured as he stepped out of the car. Janie held her breath and watched as he side-stepped a tricycle on the sidewalk and made it to the front step. He knocked, and after a considerable amount of time, the door opened to reveal a short woman with a baby slung over one hip. She looked impossibly young. Aaron talked for a little while, and Janie noticed the girl/woman looking increasingly skeptical as he told his story. Oh God, please let this go well.

  Aaron turned suddenly and pointed to her. Janie sat up straight and waived like an idiot through the closed window. The young mother waved back, looking perplexed, but not unfriendly. Aaron said something, and the girl laughed. Janie was almost sure he’d made a joke at her expense, but the kept the smile plastered on her face, trying to look as un-crazy as possible.

  Before it registered what was happening, the girl stepped back and let Aaron inside. After the door closed, Janie was suddenly furious with herself for not going with him. He was inside the house, the house that her mother and father possibly lived in. The house that she very well might have lived in when she was a baby. Urgh, why was she such a wimp?

  She took out her phone to distract herself. There were a few texts from Mia, one asking if she was okay, and the other a dirty joke circulating amongst their college friends. She typed a quick answer to the first message.

  We are at the house that my father (?) used to own. He and my mom may have been married!

  Janie didn’t really expect an immediate response, as Mia was probably in a therapy session at this time in the morning. However, her message chime went off almost immediately.

  WTF? Are you serious? What’s the house like?

  IDK. I was too chicken to go in. Aaron’s talking to the current owner.

&nbs
p; Jane, don’t be a wuss all your life. Get in there!

  Janie felt the sting of truth in Mia’s words. When was she going to stop being such a wimp when it came to her personal life? She’d spent so much time taking care of her mother and her job, she’d never taken the time to grow up and take care of herself.

  I can’t, I’m faking the flu. But you’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.

  I know you will. I love you—call me tonight and we’ll have wine words.

  Love you too—ttyl.

  It seemed like half an hour, but was probably only about five minutes, when Aaron emerged from the house and made his way back to the car. He was smiling, so Janie relaxed the tiniest bit. His smile was like a salve, she realized.

  “Well?” She pounced as soon as his door shut.

  “She has no idea who Kenneth Brown was, but she does know the neighbors four houses down. She said they’ve lived in the neighborhood for over thirty years, so if Kenneth lived here, they would probably remember him.”

  “Okay,” Janie said, feeling somewhat deflated. “Do we want to go and talk to them?” She looked down the street.

  “Kelli said they’re on vacation in Florida. They should be back on Friday. She’s getting their mail for them.” Aaron grinned. “Her name’s Kelli. Which you would know if you weren’t such a scaredy cat. She hopes you feel better soon, by the way.”

  “Did you just call me a scaredy cat? Who are you, Dennis the Menace?”

  “Tease me all you like. Big baby.” He put the car in gear and drove off, as Janie shot him several withering glares. They drove for a few minutes back towards the center of town. Finally Janie’s curiosity got the best of her.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Well, we’ve got two days until Kelli’s neighbors get home. So, for today, I think we should chase some other leads. Get out the paperwork from this morning.” Janie paused at his bossy tone, but took out the papers anyway.

  “What other leads do we have here, Detective Aaron?” She saw a lot of administrative data, license codes, and official seals, but nothing jumped out at her as particularly helpful.

  “One of those applications has an old employer listed.” Aaron looked over her shoulder, and she slapped his thigh.

  “Watch where you’re driving. I’ll find it.”

  “I think it was an application for a hunting license,” he said, still looking her way. Janie turned her body away from him and faced the passenger door window. “No, not that one,” he insisted. It’s on a legal-size sheet of paper. No, no, legal size.” Janie grinned into her chest and pulled another letter-size form from the bundle.

  “This one?” she asked hopefully.

  “God, no, one of the long ones,” Aarons cried, exasperated. Janie began to giggle.

  “You are so annoying,” Aaron said, but his reluctant smile made her break into a full-on laugh.

  “That’s what you get for bossing me.”

  “Just find the form,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Please?”

  “Pretty please.”

  “Fine. Here it is. I didn’t even see this form earlier.”

  “Because you have no eye for detail.”

  “Because I was kind of freaking out, if you remember.” Janie looked through the form until she saw the question about place of employment. In block script, Kenneth Brown had listed “Johnson’s Pipeline International”. Under occupation, he’s put “welder”.

  “He was a welder. Huh.” Janie’s voice was flat.

  “Huh?” Aaron’s eyebrows lifted. “What’s wrong with being a welder?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just never known a welder before. Does that mean he spent all day with one of those metal masks on?”

  “Probably.”

  Janie was silent for a moment. “It sounds like a tough job.”

  “Yep.”

  They were both silent for a moment. Aaron finally spoke. “So you want to go check out Johnson’s Pipeline International?”

  “Sure.” Janie shrugged.

  “Are you going to come inside with me this time?” His voice held a tinge of challenge.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  ***

  The entrance to JPI was gated. Aaron sighed and pulled into the convenience store across the street. “Okay, we need a plan.”

  “Can’t we just tell the guard at the gate that we need to talk to someone in human resources?”

  “Yeah, but it’d be better if we had an appointment. Or at least a name.” Aaron bit his lower lip. “Let me find their phone number.” He pulled out his cell and began searching. Clicking on the number, he made his way through the receptionist to the HR office. He set the phone on speaker so Janie could hear the conversation.

  “Yes, my name is Aaron Dillon. I’m tracing a former employee of yours concerning a probate matter. Is there a way we can request some records for review?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the efficient female voice on the other end of the line. “We’ll just need a copy of the “Appointment of Fiduciary” form from the court, and a photo id. Records requests typically take three to five business days.”

  “Oh, yes, I’ve got electronic copies of the forms, will that do?” Aaron said coolly. Janie gave him an incredulous look.

  “Absolutely, sir. If you have them on a thumb drive or cellular device, we should be able to download and print them for you.”

  “Great. Can we come in this afternoon? We’re on the firm’s time, and we’d like to get this taken care of as soon as possible.”

  “Well, I’m pretty swamped this afternoon. Would you be able to come in around four o’clock?”

  “Sure thing.” Aaron got her name and office number, and hung up with a satisfied slap of the car’s dashboard. “Done and done.”

  “Except for the fact that we don’t have an appointment of whatever-the-hell-you-were-talking-about form.”

  “Minor detail. Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll get something together on the computer.”

  They drove home in silence. Janie was worried about what kind of crazy plan Aaron had up his sleeve. Forging court documents wasn’t something she wanted any part of. But what if it was the only way to get Kenneth Brown’s employment documents? Was she willing to break the law to get the information she needed?

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Aaron said as they drove into the hotel parking lot.

  “I’m just worried about what kind of crazy ideas you’ve got in that unstable head of yours.”

  Aaron laughed. “Janie, I’m not planning on doing anything I haven’t already done fifty times before. These are well known short cuts that skip tracers and PI’s use all the time. It kind of goes with the territory.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.” Janie’s voice was firm in its moral authority.

  “I can’t argue with you there. But if you want to find Kenneth Brown, this is the cheapest and quickest way to do it.”

  Janie kept her mouth shut as she unbuckled her seatbelt and followed Aaron into the hotel lobby. When they got to the room, Aaron went straight to his laptop and hooked it up to the Ethernet cable on the desk. Janie sat on her bed, deliberately avoiding him. She knew he was right. But did she really want to skirt the law in order to get the information she needed?

  Aaron’s computer made a twinkling noise as he opened a new program. “You know,” he said from behind his screen, “this isn’t a crime on par with armed robbery. If this guy really is your father, then you’re entitled to find him—his information is pertinent to your mother’s estate. Plus, you know, there’s the possibility that he’s. Your. Father.”

  Janie picked at the hem of her shirt. Why did he have to sound so condescending? Wanting to obey the law didn’t make her some kind of goody-two-shoes.

  “You know what I think?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” Her voice was grim.

  “I think you’re using this ‘I don’t want to break the law’ excus
e because you’re afraid of what we might find.” His voice was accusatory, but when he peeked over the top of his laptop screen, she saw understanding in his eyes.

  Janie sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe you’re just trying to make me feel mentally unhinged so you get your way.”

  “That’s possible. Listen, let’s do this. From now on, I won’t tell you about any ‘shady’ shenanigans I might employ to get the information I need. That way, your ignorance keeps you on the right side of the law.”

  “It’s like some kind of mafia pact or something.” She couldn’t help but grin as Aaron nodded in agreement.

  “Fine, keep me in the dark. In fact, I don’t even want to see the bogus documents that you’re cooking up.”

  “Then go make yourself useful and get me a coffee from the lobby.” Janie could hear the laughter in his voice. Was he being a pig on purpose?

  “Please?”

  “Fine, please.”

  “Jesus,” she sighed as she left the room. She could hear his laughter through the closed door, but she wouldn’t let herself crack a smile.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AARON

  By the time Janie returned with his coffee, Aaron had already completed the forms he’d need for the Johnson HR department. He’d deliberately pissed her off, in the hopes that she’d stay away long enough for him to make a few calls. His friends in the IT community were quick and reliable when it came to document production. Within half an hour, he’d compiled the necessary documents to obtain any of the files JPI had concerning Kenneth Brown.

  The door flew open a few minutes after he’d closed his laptop. “I hope you like sugar,” Janie said without preamble. “I added six cubes for good measure.”

  “Thanks,” Aaron laughed.

  “Thanks? Look who discovered manners in our brief time apart.”

  “Well, I figure I owe you one. Since you brought me that steaming cup of candied coffee.” He took the cup from her hand and took a tentative sip. “This is black.”

  “I know. I couldn’t really ruin your coffee.”

  Aaron let out a loud guffaw and sat at the edge of her bed. “Come sit,” he said.