The Palpable ProsecutorChapter 17
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Jody said she’d work on getting the papers filed right away, but had no idea how long it would take the wheels of Columbia County government to turn, so she told Lacey to go home and just do what she normally did.
Lacey was dead tired when she saw Bob waiting for her in the arrival’s area and dozed off while she was telling him what she and Jody had cooked up. She woke up as he half carried her into the brownstone, but then conked out, sleeping late the next morning, which was a Saturday.
Life went on. Neither Bob nor Lacey forgot about what Jody was doing for them, but neither expected to hear anything soon, perhaps for months. They were therefore both shocked when, around nine-thirty PM the following Friday night, Jody rang the buzzer and announced herself at the bullet-proof glass enclosure to what they now called the foyer to their apartment.
“What are you doing here?” gasped Lacey as she opened the door and let Jody in.
“You hired me,” said Jody, grinning. “I did what you hired me to do.”
“Already?”
“I flew up there and told them how busy I was,” said Jody, waving a hand. “I also took the judge out to dinner. There is this place called Baba Louie’s up there that has passably good pizza. And beer. Lots of beer.”
“You got a judge drunk?” moaned Lacey.
“Not at all. We just had a few beers and I regaled him with tales of the exciting world of petroleum law. He’s a pretty good guy, for a judge.”
“Oh. Well, come on in. Bob’s cooking supper. He’ll be delighted to see you.”
“Supper at nine at night?” Jody grinned. “Ahhhh, yes. You two are still newlyweds.”
“That’s not what we’ve been doing!” said Lacey, slapping Jody’s arm. “I had to work late and missed dinner.”
“Well, I could eat,” said Jody. “I don’t suppose you have a guest bedroom.” She looked around the foyer.
“I do, in fact. Bob used to sleep in it, but not anymore.”
“Okay then. I accept your generous offer to let me stay the night.”
“You’re always welcome. You know that. But why didn’t you just come up tomorrow? Or call? I’d have come down there.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I got what you wanted and figured sooner was better. Now, I’m hungry and I want to get a hug from your man.”
Bob, as it turned out, was taking the roast, potatoes, and carrots out of the crock pot as Lacey brought Jody in. He stopped long enough to hug and welcome her.
“This is a surprise,” he said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Jody, cryptically. “But business is for later. I’m starving. Got enough for one more?”
There was plenty, and soon they were all enjoying the fruits of Bob’s labor. It wasn’t until all of them had eaten most of their supper that Jody said more.
“I have to ask your forgiveness, Lacey,” she said.
“Okay. What for?”
“I’m a lawyer. Lawyers are nosey. I looked at the files you asked me to get.”
“Oh?” Lacey’s voice quivered a bit.
“When you said things were complicated, you were kind of lowballing it, don’t you think?”
“I don’t understand,” said Lacey. She’d thought Jody would deliver the files and that then she and Bob could go through them privately.
“Oh, I think you do. I think you knew what those records were going to contain. I think that’s why you hired me. What I don’t know is how you knew.”
Lacey leaned back in her seat. Bob put his fork down, but then shrugged.
“We may as well tell her,” he said. “Sounds like she’s figured it out already anyway.”
It was quiet as Lacey thought about what he’d said. And what Jody had said. Bob was right. It sounded like Jody had figured out why Lacey wanted the records. She was only mildly surprised that she didn’t feel all that nervous. It was just one more example of how much she’d changed since meeting Bob. The only reason she was nervous at all was because she didn’t know how Jody felt about what it sounded like she’d figured out.
“What are you going to do?” asked Lacey finally, looking at her friend.
“Me? Do? I’m going to get a few questions answered and then spend the evening with some of my best friends, and then, tomorrow I’m going to go back to Boston where it doesn’t cost an arm and two legs to hire a cab.”
“So,” said Lacey, suddenly impatient. “What did you find out?”
Jody got up and retrieved the briefcase she’d left on a chair in the living room. She returned to the table and set it there, opening it. She pulled out a slim folder which, when opened, revealed a small stack of papers which she spread out on the table in front of her. They were obviously photocopies of other documents, based on the fact that there were borders within borders, the original documents having been smaller than the paper used to copy them on. She pushed one copy toward Bob and Lacey, turning it around so they could see it.
“First I got into your file,” she said, looking at Lacey. “The judge wasn’t concerned about it once he learned both of you were well over twenty-one. He wasn’t even curious about why I wanted two adoption records from the same county. Of course that might have been because I was doing family research.”
She stopped and raised one eyebrow, as if she was waiting for someone to say something. Nobody did, though, so she went on.
“It was all very straightforward. This is your birth certificate, Lacey. Your birth parents were Franklin and Merilee Marcham. Your birth name was Angela Marcham.” She selected another document and pushed it beside the first. “As you already know, Franklin murdered Merilee and the state became your guardian until you were adopted by Fred and Eileen Cragg. This is the adoption decree in which you were renamed.”
Lacey fingered the documents, but did not pick them up. Jody pushed two more documents toward them.
“Now for Bob.” She spoke of him in the third person, as if he weren’t there. “Bob was born Robert Stewart Stratton, his parents being Charles and Amy Stratton. They were killed in a car crash when he was two, at which time he, also, became a ward of the state. There’s no information on other family in the file, but, obviously, even if there was family back then, none of them assumed responsibility for his welfare. He was adopted at age seven by Dennis and Jennifer Shepard.”
She pushed another document toward them which had very little typing on it.
“This is a copy of the document certifying that Dennis and Jennifer terminated their parental rights six months later, returning custody to the state. It says he was beyond control, destructive, and incorrigible.” She finally looked at Bob, as if acknowledging he was actually there. “Not much has changed.” She grinned.
There was still one document in front of Jody.
“What is that?” asked Lacey.
“That is the result of my nosiness,” said Jody, her voice matter of fact. She reached to put a fingertip on a box on the adoption decree that was Lacey’s. “What do you see right there?”
Both of the others leaned forward to peer at the box Jody had stipulated. It showed the maiden name of Merilee Marcham.
“Stratton,” breathed Lacey.
“I thought that was kind of interesting, seeing as how Bob’s birth parents were named Stratton, too,” said Jody. “That’s when I got nosey.”
She picked up the remaining document.
“So I researched the Stratton line. Since they were from the same area, it was easier than I thought it would be. This is what I found.”
She extended the document and placed it in front of Lacey and Bob.
“Amy and Charles Stratton had two children ... not just Bob. They had a girl, too, three years older than Bob. Her name was ... Merilee.”
Bob and Lacey sat mute, staring at the lineage printed from a site known to assist in genealogical research.
“I had a sister?” Bob’s voice was hollow, faint. It was so unusual that both women looked at him.
“Your sister was Angela’s ... Lacey’s mother,” said Jody.
Jody looked at Lacey.
“Bob is your uncle.”
“This is crazy,” said Lacey, for perhaps the tenth time. “How could this have happened?”
“Your mom got pregnant,” said Jody. There was no levity in her voice.
“I know that,” groaned Lacey. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. How is it possible that two people who never met, and lived separate lives thousands of miles apart, who didn’t even know each other existed could end up in the same place and fall in love, not knowing they were related? The odds must be incalculable. I should have been buying lotto tickets. It has to be more likely to win the lottery than for something like this to happen.”
“It doesn’t really matter how it happened,” said Jody. “Whether it was kismet, or the cosmos playing some not-so-funny joke on you, it happened. The real question is ... what are you going to do about it?”
Jane
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