Chapter 3
"What do you mean that's Maxwell's bloodline?" the red-head man asked the other two furiously, his rough hands balling up into white-knuckled fists. "You've got to be kidding me! The little shit was clueless when we mentioned Maxwell!"
"It's him, Jack!" the darker-complexion man spat aloud as he took the collar of his partner's shirt into his fists. As a few kids with their parents passed with looks of disapproval written on his faces, the men settled their tones for the sake of the community. "I've done endless research on this kid," he continued with a more appropriate tone to his voice. "All of the research I did, all of the information on file I found… they led me here in Westmont! He's related to Maxwell!"
"Well, sorry Darrel, but that's obviously not the kid we want! You told us that we were looking for Alvin Maxwell!" the other man whose name was Craig attacked. "No-brainer; this must be a different kid!"
"Look at the picture!" Darrel urged with all his might as he pulled the two into a huddle. Out from his coarse hand, he unraveled the same piece of paper he had shown them earlier. What was the paper, you ask? A very recent picture of their latest target, Alvin, taken just months prior… robbed from his athletic locker. "That kid we talked to just know? This is his picture all day long, and you guys can't tell me 'no'!"
Jack spewed a sigh and shoved his hands in the depths of his pockets. "Either this kid doesn't know his own surname, or…" he paused, giving a weak look, "… it isn't his surname at all…"
"So what are you saying?" Craig asked aloud.
"I'm saying he's not letting us in on something, or in some twisted event, he's actually completely clueless. Maybe his last name isn't Maxwell after all, so there's no way he could have known who Maxwell was when we mentioned him!"
The mystery was growing between the three and was soon accompanied with frustration. "What could've happened where this Alvin kid didn't take Maxwell as a last name?" Darrel fumed as he tapped his well-dressed foot in the dusty dirt below.
"Could they've lived with blood cousins, aunts, or uncles?" Craig assumed. "Perhaps he took their last name?"
Darrel shook his head and raised a broad hand in the air. "Can't be; Maxwell only had one child. Blood relatives of any kind are definitely not an option."
"Speaking hypothetically," Jack stated, "a mother with too much on her plate can easily take adoption into consideration, don't you think?" he gave the scenario to his partners.
Craig and Darrel handed off glances at one another, giving off their own sense of approval. "You think so?" Craig was the first to ask. "You think Maxwell's only kid gave up her children?"
"If so," Darrel began to piece two and two together, pacing the bald and patchy ground, "then that can be our answer, and this can absolutely be the kid we're looking for; just with a different last name!"
"Well, you know what that means, right?" Jack asked with the slyest of smiles. "We watch this kid run for the gold. If he wins this, there'll be no question that's he's in Maxwell's bloodline; Maxwell was always quick on his feet!"
"Of course you know!" Craig teased. "You're so old, you actually pulled Maxwell from his track meet back in '61!"
Jack rarely stated his age, being a seventy-five-year-old man, but at this moment, he was quite proud, and he showed it as he popped the collar to his loud Hawaiian shirt. "And it'll be an honor to pull another from the Maxwell bloodline!"
Darrel marched off towards the bleachers and waved his hand for the other two to follow. "If we need more proof than research and files, I suggest we watch this kid run. We'll know if he's Maxwell's blood or not… hopefully we'll have us a mouse in our trap by the end of the night…"
The other two eagerly followed behind and soon found a place to sit in the packed bleachers.
Very short chapter, I know, but keep a look-out for other chapters coming your way!
