Page 47 of 2nd Strike
But my partner on this mission shakes his head. “No. We have to. If he’s the real Ethan, we should help him.”
My heart swells. The life he’s known has literally crumbled and all he can think about is giving someone else closure.
“Lord, Ethan, you’re one heck of a human being. I’m proud to know you.”
He hits me with a smile that flashes his perfect teeth. “Thanks, Meg. That’s cool.”
As we draw closer, Jon stands. He’s an inch or two taller than Ethan and I study his features. The cut of his cheekbones, the strong jaw and full mouth.
My pulse hammers, drowning out the sounds of tweeting birds and rustling leaves.
If this kid isn’t a Havers, I’m burning my sketch pad.
Has to be.
Jon forces a weak smile. I’m an adult and have no idea how to handle this situation. How is a hormone enraged teenager supposed to?
I glance at Ethan, who squares his shoulders and takes a breath. He picks up his pace, leaving me half a step behind. I hook my hand around the strap of my tote, squeezing hard enough to crinkle the plastic bag tucked inside. My mind snaps to the DNA kit and potential introductions to that little surprise.
Hey, Jon. I know we just met but can I swab your cheek?
It sounds like a pick-up line from a bad B movie.
Too much thinking. I have to stop. Just focus on my one task. The sample. That’s it.
Twenty yards away, Grey glances at us then goes back to his sandwich.
I quicken my steps to catch Ethan, who is already a few feet from Jon. “Jon?”
He bobs his head. “Yeah. Hey, Ethan.”
The two do a fist bump, shuffle their feet, stare off at the park and then finally, having nothing else to stall with, turn to me as if I’ll somehow save them.
I shove my hand out. “Hi, Jon. Nice to meet you. I’m Meg.”
He gives me a good, solid handshake that impresses me. “Hey. You’re helping Ethan?”
“Yes. Me and my sister, Charlie.”
“Yeah. Okay. So, uh, how do we do this? I mean, figure out who I am?”
Bam.
A total gift has just landed at my feet. I pull the bag out. “Well, Jon. I have an idea that’ll settle this whole thing.”
21
Charlie
At seven the next morning, I'm waiting for Chuck McAllister in the parking lot of Family Ties. It's nestled in a quiet suburb of D.C., birds singing in the nearby park and residents commuting to their jobs on the busy street out front.
Chuck’s the supervisor of the lab—they do dozens of DNA analyses every day for paying customers, and have a great reputation in the community here. Every year they hold a reunion for anyone who's used their services to locate lost relatives. It's a huge event, and people travel from all over to attend.
I'm not a paying customer and I don't have consent for testing Jon's DNA. Chuck doesn't need to know it's for a minor, and he owes me a big favor.
He’ll still balk, but I'm not feeling congenial today. When Meg starts acting more crazy than usual, I take it seriously. I’ve already chewed her out, and she's sitting in the car next to me, quietly stewing. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, feeling too light on sleep and too heavy on caffeine and anxiety.
JJ and I stayed up all night working on different leads. Anita’s report came up clean––too clean. When I crosschecked her with her employment history, education, and credit history, I hit dead ends on all three. My time with the Bureau taught me that’s a huge red flag, pointing to someone disappearing from their old life and starting over.
