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“One other thing: Molly said the testing done when you were found wasn't like the DNA testing we have today. There's a chance we could learn more, find out the truth about your past.”
As she spoke, Jackson lifted his head to look at her. He plundered her mouth with an explosive kiss. They were in this together.
* * *
Her comfy couch cradled them as they held mugs of steaming hot black coffee. Her other hand’s fingers interlaced with his. “The dead city council members served with our fathers and Fred Lamply. I need to identify the other five and assign protection.”
“We need to find the connection,” Jackson said.
“I don't know yet, but it's too much of a coincidence,” Liv continued. “In the interim, I need to speak with the Waverlys and both our mothers to get some town history that isn’t in the books.”
“Liv, how did Fred Lamply become your Uncle Fred?” Jackson asked.
She sighed heavily. “After my dad died, he was always there. Helping out… doing stuff a dad would do. Building our bikes, helping my mom assemble our Christmas presents.
“There are more pieces,” she added. “I need to track down how the burned buildings are connected. I know they are Waverly-owned, but why these specific buildings? Maybe if we understand that, we can prevent the next fire.”
Jackson nodded and exhaled. “I'll help however I can. We can figure this out together.”
She met his gaze and exhaled. “I….” She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were filled with tears. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“How would I get hurt?”
“I think some of this has to do with you,” she admitted.
In the quiet, Liv's admission hung in the air. Jackson's brow furrowed in confusion. “I can't understand how I'd be involved in all of this,” he tried to grasp the connection.
Liv hesitated. “Like I said before, the DNA technology at the time you were born was not as advanced as it is today. They couldn't definitively confirm your biological lineage as an Ashcroft.”
Jackson shuddered, the shock settling in slowly. “Rainey Ashcroft may not have been my mother?”
“What’s in question is whether she was an Ashcroft.” Liv nodded solemnly. “There is no proof. Now, with the new advancements in DNA testing, I believe there's a chance the truth about your origins might be different from what was believed back then.”
Jackson stood up and paced her living room, holding his head. “Do you want me to give a blood sample for testing?”
Liv met his gaze, her expression determined. “Yes, I do. But the problem is... we need to find someone to compare it to.”
Jackson cocked his head. “There has to be another way.” He figured out what Liv couldn’t say. “We can’t dig up an Ashcroft body.”
Liv didn't falter. “We have to piece together the puzzle, Jackson. There might be records, connections, or clues that could lead us to the truth. I don’t want to start digging up bodies either.” She closed and opened her eyes. “We'll figure this out together.”
“Where do you want to start?” he asked.
“I think we should try the town records and then talk to our mothers.”
Jackson sat down beside her again and pulled her against him. “Together.”
* * *
Olivia and Jackson ventured into the evidence cellar of the Waverly Junction police department to seek clues from forty years prior—the night of the Waverly estate fire. In the dimly lit space, they wordlessly combed through the shelves, their focus intense.
Jackson climbed a ladder to explore the top shelf. Amidst the dusty relics, he spotted a discolored banker’s box wedged in the back labeled “Rainey Ashcroft-Christopher Waverly-Baby.” His voice echoed through the cellar as he alerted Liv to his discovery, igniting a spark of hope.
When Jackson pried open the box, he found it empty. Someone had taken whatever evidence it contained. Together, they sat on the floor with the empty box between them. Remnants of paper bags and an evidence log remained in the bottom of the box.
“We don’t know how long it’s been missing,” she pointed out.
Jackson growled, “Someone was one step ahead of us, and it wasn’t that long ago.” He opened his phone and hit the flashlight to show her a dust track. “Someone moved this box recently.”
