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Nine
I hadn’t giventhe Johnsons much over the phone, and maybe that made me a bad person, but I knew it’d be easier for them to turn me away if we were on the phone than when we were face-to-face. I’d abide by whatever their answer was, but I intended to make sure they at least heard everything I had to say first.
I was just glad they’d agreed to see me so soon. I was grateful for the distraction, and I didn’t want to make Jenna wait any longer than she had to.
Their house was nice, I thought as I walked up to it. A good, solid middle-class family home. Stacey was fortunate to have grown up there.
It wasn’t until I was raising my hand to knock that I realized the impact my news was going to have on this family. I’d been so focused on what it meant for Jenna that I hadn’t stopped to think about Stacey or her parents. Telling them that Stacey’s half-sister wanted to meet her would change their lives, no matter what they decided.
Before I could knock – and before I could change my mind – the door opened, and a handsome Haitian man greeted me.
“Ms. Quick?”
“Yes.” I held out my hand, and he shook it. “Mr. Johnson, I presume.”
“Come on in.” He stepped back to give me room, and then I followed him into the living room where a pretty, dark-haired woman was waiting. “My wife, Roberta.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand as well.
Once we’d all taken our seats, Elliot reached over and took Roberta’s hand. The two of them looked like they were bracing themselves, and I hoped that what I had to tell them wouldn’t be as bad as what they’d clearly been imagining.
“You said you wanted to talk to us about our daughter,” he said. I could hear a faint French accent to his words. Or something close to French at least.
“I need to confirm a couple things first,” I said. I was almost one hundred percent sure that Stacey was Jenna’s sister, but I’d be a horrible PI if I didn’t verify. “Stacey turned thirteen on August seventeenth, correct?”
They both nodded.
“And you adopted her as a baby?”
They both stiffened, and I felt the mood in the room shift. They’d been worried before. Now, they were guarded too.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Roberta said tightly.
It was time to lay my cards on the table. “I’m a private investigator, hired by a woman who may be Stacey’s half-sister.”
They looked at each other before Roberta spoke. “The adoption was closed, and from the little we were told, it was arranged that way to protect Stacey from her biological family.”
“From her mother, yes. If Stacey is the young woman I’ve been looking for, then keeping her from any contact with her biological mother is a good thing. Her half-siblings, however, may or may not present any issues. I was hired to find all of Marcy Wakefield’s children.”
Roberta flinched as soon as I said the name, the last confirmation that I needed. “We don’t know anything about that woman or her family. We won’t put our daughter into that situation.”
“I understand,” I said as sympathetically as I could. I needed to be diplomatic here, take their very valid concerns seriously. “And I can’t vouch for any of the other siblings, but the woman who hired me, she’s a good person. She’s twenty-six, married with two adopted children. They have a comfortable life. She has no desire to complicate things with your daughter. She just wants to know her brothers and sisters.”
Elliot shook his head. “There must be some mistake.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson, but if Marcy Wakefield is Stacey’s biological mother, then she is my client’s sister.” I looked up at the family portrait hanging on the wall across from me. “She just wants to know her family.”
“We are Stacey’s only family,” Roberta said sharply. “It’s been thirteen years, and we haven’t heard a peep until now.”
I chose my next words carefully. Jenna hadn’t given me any restrictions as to what I could tell the Johnsons, but I knew if our situations were reversed, I’d want Jenna to be as tactful as possible. Then there was the fact that if I revealed too much, I’d bring Archer Enterprises into the picture, and I didn’t know enough about the two people sitting across from me to determine if they’d make any sort of meeting contingent upon payment. My gut told me they were decent people looking out for their daughter, but my views on parenting were colored by my past.
“Marcy Wakefield wasn’t her real name. She was in witness protection, and that was the new name she was given after she provided the Florida DA with the names of people who trafficked in some pretty nasty stuff.”
I’d let their imagination do the work for them. I didn’t know everything Jenna’s mother had done, but I didn’t doubt that it was far more depraved than what most people ever wanted to consider. Roberta’s face paled until I could see freckles that I hadn’t noticed before.
“My client is one of eleven children Marcy gave birth to, but the only one she kept for more than a few months. To guard my client’s privacy, I won’t tell you about the quality of her life in the thirteen years she was with her biological mother, but I will say that it is more horrific than you would want to envision.”
“Cher Dieu.” Elliot’s words sounded like a prayer.
