Quality DNA

by Beth Martin

  It was all too convenient. Her husband must have found some way to reverse his sterilization while she held to a flimsy story about an affair with a no name man who left no trace.

  Rose must have read the doubt on Irene’s face. “I think I heard someone call him Juan.”

  Irene sighed. “Could you give me a physical description of Juan?”

  “Tall. Dark. Deliciously handsome.”

  “Thank you for your time. I should be going.” Irene got up and pulled her device from her pocket. It had been recording their entire conversation. She was about to pause it when Rose interrupted.

  “I know it all sounds too fantastic. To be honest, I’m thrilled Lily matches my husband. But he’s been sterile since we first got together. We looked for a doctor who would be willing to reverse the procedure, but there were complications. After searching for years, he finally agreed to let it happen… organically.”

  Irene punched the stop button. She had heard enough. “I appreciate you having me at your home, Rose. Congratulations on the new addition.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said, giving Irene another sweet smile. “Tammy will see you out.”

  The assistant immediately stepped forward from the shadows and led Irene out of the house. As she held the front door open for Irene, she said quietly, “Mrs. Clark is telling the truth. If you’d like, I can give you a physical description of her lover.”

  “Yes, please send it to my office.”

  “I’ll do it later today,” she promised as she closed the door behind Irene.

  The rain had let up and was barely a drizzle. Irene got in her car and said, “Drive to the office,” as she held her device to the dash.

  “Calculating directions. There is a Coffee House Café on the route. Coffee House Café: Always friendly, always fresh. Would you like to stop at this Coffee House Café before returning to the office?”

  “No. Begin driving to the office.”

  ··OOO··

  “Hey Angel. Come look at this.” As she held her device to the printer, it lit up and started to work printing the image on her screen. Within a few seconds, it spit out a large full-color portrait.

  “Who’s that?” Angel asked as he walked up, a mug of coffee in hand.

  “This is a rendering of the biological father of Rose Clark’s baby, according to her assistant.” By the time she returned to the office, Irene’s work voice mail had a message from Tammy: her description of “Juan” in a hushed voice. It only took a minute to run her description through the character sketch software and get a likeness.

  “Wow. He looks like a superhero,” Angel said.

  “I know, right? I don’t even like men, and have to admit he’s crazy attractive.”

  “Hell, I’d sleep with him,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Rose Clark said she had an affair with this man, and Lily was the result.”

  “Well I believe the part about the affair. Have you talked to the DNA daddy?”

  “George Clark? Not yet.” Irene kept studying the portrait. This man looked nothing like George Clark. She wished she had asked Rose to see the baby. Maybe Lily would favor her mother’s Latino lover. “Rose said she met this man while filming that terrible Cyborg movie. He was an extra.”

  “That means he was in the movie. You’ll be able to get an actual photograph of him and find out who he is.”

  “I don’t know. It’s a weak lead.” Irene dropped the photo on her desk. She had tried a facial recognition search, but it didn’t come back with a hit.

  “Eh, it’s a lead. Also, it’s an excuse to take Jamie to a movie.”

  “Fine,” Irene said with a pretend frown. “I’ll go see a movie. But I won’t like it.”

  Angel laughed. “Yes, God forbid you do anything fun that you might enjoy.”

  Bringing up Jamie reminded Irene about her promise. “Okay, this is horribly uncomfortable, but I wanted to ask you for a personal favor.”

  “Anything,” Angel said, setting down his mug on the printer.

  “Jamie wants, well, we both would like to raise a child. We’re, uh, looking for a donor.”

  Angel laughed. “You’re looking to get knocked up?”

  “Not me. I can’t. Jamie would carry the baby.”

  “I wish I could help, but my oats have been sewn. Isn’t your best friend expecting? How’d she find a baby daddy?”

  Irene raised her brows. “She hooked up with a random man at a nightclub.”

  Angel picked up his mug and gulped down the last of his coffee. “I guess that wouldn’t really work for you two.”

  “No. No it would not.”

  four

  After a long day at work, the only thing Annette wanted was a nice, long, hot bubble bath. As she stepped into the swirling water of her tub, it was tepid at best. “Detect water temperature,” she said.

  Her device sat at the edge of the tub. “Water temperature is currently ninety-six degrees.” Her doctor had told her to lay off the bubbles and warned her that hot spas could harm the baby. At least she felt weightless underwater. She eased her gigantic-feeling body into the water, giving a sigh as she propped up her tired ankles. Everything hurt. She was ready to not be pregnant anymore.

  As she relaxed, she could feel her baby start to move around. It felt like her baby was dancing and twirling around. She placed her hands on her belly, feeling her little bean move from the outside as well.

  Her device started buzzing. “Incoming call from Gerry Blisburn. Would you like to answer?”

  Annette huffed. What could her mother possibly want? “Yes,” she said. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hey, sweetheart. I just wanted to check in and see if you would be coming over tomorrow to join us for dinner.”

  Annette idly splashed the water with her hand. “Why would I do that?”

  Gerry chuckled. “Because we’re celebrating your father’s birthday. You always come over for his birthday. I’m at the store and they have Cornish game hens. I wanted to make sure I get enough for everyone.”

  “Mom, you have no idea how to make game hens. You always cook the same damn roast for every occasion.”

  “I thought it’d be nice to try something new. I’ll get you one.”

  “I’m not coming over for dinner,” Annette insisted.

  “Of course you are,” Gerry said.

  “No, I’m not. Last time I came over, you and Dad basically told me I’m a whore.”

  “We said no such thing.”

  “You said I was ruined.”

  Gerry sighed heavily over the line. “We’ve come to accept that you’ve decided to never marry. Now that we’ve accepted that, we really want to see you.”

  Annette laughed. “Oh my God, Mom. I’ll get married one day. There are plenty of men who don’t want to have children, or ones who already have a kid and are still looking for a life partner.”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Look, I don’t want to fight. We’re starting dinner tomorrow at six and would love for you to come over. Will you at least do that?”

  “Fine.”

  After the line disconnected, her device said, “Adding dinner with Gerry Blisburn to calendar for September nineteenth, twenty fifty-nine at six o’clock pm.”

  Her bath had gotten positively cold, so Annette carefully got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a clean, fluffy towel. “Drain bathtub.” As she walked out of her bathroom and into her bedroom to get dressed, the water started trickling out of the tub.

  ··OOO··

  Irene gasped. “Oh my God, your office is amazing.” The entire Certain Media campus was built to impress. Annette’s office had an unobstructed view of the city below. She had trinkets and small props on display from a variety of movies she was involved in.

  “Thanks.” Annette settled heavily on her chair.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” Annette said. “Everything aches. I’m always hungry. You know, the usual. But let’s get to it. I have
a meeting in half an hour.”

  “Of course.” Irene stood behind Annette’s chair and watched the monitor on her desk. Annette had pulled all the film including extras for The Woman The Cyborg, even the shots that got cut and didn’t make it into the theatrical release.

  “I wasn’t part of this project, so I’m not really familiar with it, but we’ll give it a go.”

  “This is the person we’re looking for,” Irene said, showing Annette the portrait from the description Rose’s assistant gave on her device.

  “Phew,” Annette said. “He’s so gorgeous, he’s giving me hot flashes.”

  There were only a few minutes of footage, and they watched it from every angle trying to find Juan. The scene was set in a city square with cyborg people milling around. In the second pass, Irene recognized Rose Clark under her prosthetic-brains headdress. She still hadn’t seen the entire movie and had no idea how this little snippet fit in the entire film.

  They watched it again and again until Annette leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I’m sorry, Irene. I don’t think he’s here.”

  “One more time.”

  “We’ve watched it five times already.” It was hard to recognize anyone in the scene. They were all wearing elaborate costumes and makeup.

  “Just one more,” Irene pleaded.

  “Fine,” Annette said, playing the scene from the top.

  In the very first couple seconds, someone stepped out of view and didn’t return for the rest of the scene.

  “Go back,” Irene said. “Pause it in the first few frames.”

  Annette replayed it again, immediately pausing the action.

  “There,” Irene said, “at the left edge of the screen. Can you zoom in?”

  “I can do even better,” Annette said, holding out her hands. With a turn of her wrist, the scene rotated, so instead of looking at the extra’s profile, they were looking at him straight on.

  “That’s him!” Irene said. Even through the metallic makeup and crazy wig, his yellow-green eyes and chiseled cheekbones were unmistakeable. She took a picture of the scene with her device and said, “Run through facial recognition software.”

  “Glad to help,” Annette said. “I need to head over to my meeting. But first I need to pee.”

  Irene nodded, engrossed in her device as the display swirled while the search ran. “Match found. Miguel Blanco. Model. Twenty-eight years old.” The photo on her device almost perfectly matched the rendering from the character sketch software. His yellow-green eyes seemed to be looking straight into her soul.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up to find Annette had already left. “Call Miguel Blanco,” she said into her device.

  His line didn’t even ring before a recorded message played. A deep, smooth voice said, “I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now. I’m probably busy at a photo shoot. If you are interested in using me or my likeness, please contact my agent directly. Otherwise, if this is a personal inquiry, you know what to do.”

  Irene figured his sultry message would make any straight woman’s panties drop. After the beep, she pressed an option on the screen of her device to leave her standard work message. When he checked his messages, he would hear her introduce herself, give her credentials, and request he reach out to her.

  She flipped back to his photograph. Even though she now knew who he was, that did nothing more to explain the DNA of Rose Clark’s baby.

  ··OOO··

  George Clark had not invited Irene back to his house, but instead offered to meet her in his office at the top of Certain Tower. Irene had thought Annette’s office was nice, but George’s made it look like a slum in comparison. He had half of the entire floor and panoramic windows. The current rainfall dampened the view, but on a clear day she would have been able to see the harbor. His office was decorated with a mix of luxurious furnishings, sports memorabilia, and iconic props from classic movies.

  “I was starting to think you were dodging my calls,” she said as she walked around the office, examining George’s collections.

  “I was,” he said as he settled into the black leather chair behind his large oak desk. George was attractive enough to star in movies instead of running the movie production company. He had a square, masculine jaw and full head of salt and pepper hair. “My wife finally convinced me that I couldn’t avoid the Social Department forever. She said I looked guilty if I didn’t sit down and talk with one of you.”

  “Are you guilty?” Irene asked, examining a glass orb displayed on a high shelf. This was the magical crystal ball from The Treasure Hunt, the first ever immersive movie. The placard accompanying it claimed the orb was fashioned from the heaviest crystal in existence, and worth its weight in gold.

  “Straight to the point. I like it. No, I’m not guilty of breaking any laws, reproductive or otherwise.”

  “Then why would you avoid the Social Department? And how did you father your wife’s baby?”

  “I can answer the first question for you,” he said. “Now, what I’m about to tell you can’t be spread outside of this room. If I catch wind of this in the tabloids, I’ll sue the entire Social Department and make sure you lose your job.”

  Irene stopped examining the autographed baseballs and turned her full attention to George. “I’m not going to spread any rumors, Mr. Clark. I’m just here for the truth.”

  “After Trudy, my first wife, gave birth to our son, I had the required sterilization procedure. I wasn’t happy about it, but I did it. Seven years ago, I started having some health problems. Nothing too major, just some abdominal pain. My doctor ran some tests. Testicular cancer. Got both removed, and I have been cancer free ever since. So you see, there is no way, none, that I could have fathered Lily.”

  “What was the name of the doctor who treated you?” she asked.

  “I don’t really remember. Maybe Roth?” he said. “His office is just across from the hospital.”

  “I’ll need you to sign a waiver so we can access your medical file. Did you ever freeze any of your sperm?” she asked.

  “Me and every other man with enough money to do so. I made the unfortunate decision to have Verilicorp house all of mine.”

  Irene nodded. Verilicorp had been investigated by the Social Department ten years ago for illegally harvesting and storing genetic material and embryos.

  “Did you get a chance to remove your samples before their facilities were raided?”

  “I wish I had, but sadly no. Unless the police held on to them.”

  “No,” she said, “everything was cataloged then destroyed.”

  “Then you’ll have a record of mine. My alias with Verilicorp was Joseph Smiley.” Irene nodded again, making a mental note of the name.

  “Do you know a man by the name of Miguel Blanco?”

  A light twitch of his face let her know that he did recognize the name. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Who is he?”

  “He’s a model. He was cast as an extra in the cyborg movie your wife starred in.”

  “The Woman The Cyborg. I had nothing to do with casting decisions for that film, and I have no idea who this Blanco person is.” By his tense tone and stance, Irene could tell George knew exactly who he was.

  She stopped looking around the office and stood right in front of George’s desk while glaring at him. “Your wife knows him. Quite well, according her count of events.”

  George’s face turned red and his nostrils flared. “Look, Miss Crow. I’m answering your questions as a courtesy to my wife. Since I didn’t father that baby, I’m fully aware that some other man did. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I really need to get back to work.” He stood up abruptly and glared at Irene.

  “Those are all the questions I have for now,” she said. “I’ll call if I need any more information.”

  He nodded, and she took that as his way of telling her she was free to leave.

  All of the details of the case flew through her mind as she left George Clark’s offi
ce. She buttoned up her coat and tucked her untamable hair under the hood before stepping outside into the rainy weather. She waited under the awning as her car drove from the parking lot to the front of the building.

  Once she was in and buckled, her car pulled out into traffic and wove around the wet streets toward her office. This case had taken yet another interesting turn. Miguel Blanco hadn’t called her back, but Irene suspected he was just a pawn in a larger scheme. George and Rose were hiding something. Checking with Dr. Roth would give her the next clue.

  “Look up Dr. Roth,” she said. The display on her device swirled before before settling on a drawing.

  “Dr. Roth. Character in the award-winning children’s book, The Great Balloon. Dr. Roth creates the great hot air balloon and acts as tour guide to the main characters, Anna and Jim, as they take a magical journey around the world. Would you be interested in purchasing a copy of The Great Balloon?”

  “No, no,” Irene said. “Search for a Dr. Roth practicing within a quarter mile of Santa Teresa Hospital.”

  The screen swirled for an entire minute before saying, “No match found.”

  She tossed her device into the seat next to her. “Damn it!”

  When she got back to the Social Department building, she dashed from her car into the building, the now driving rain spraying into her face. Each step splashed water up the bottom of her coat and got her slacks wet.

  She walked into the pen and hung her jacket on the coat tree beside Angel’s desk. The weight of her rain-soaked coat took down the wobbly stand and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Irene was too agitated to care and just left the whole mess on the floor and sat at her desk.

  Angel came around the corner and saw the pile next to his desk. “Bad morning?” he asked.

  “You could say that.”

  “Still working on that movie star case?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she sighed. She explained briefly how she couldn’t reach Rose’s lover, and the conversation she just had with George.

  “So?” Angel said. “We already know George Clark is firing blanks. You should just close the file and be done with it.”