Disclaimer: (sings to the tune of the Barney song) I don't own, you don't sue…I'm not doing this for pro-o-fit… I don't own and you don't sue, and everyone will be happy…
Notes: If anyone notices any discrepancies in the names, I apologize - I actually used a different set of names which I changed last minute. Taylor's ...uh, sister...is Shayla Fawkes-Berenson, and his legal guardian is Shawn Berenson. The other two siblings should be Jesse and Meggie. If any other names appear, then I missed them when I edited, so just ignore that and mentally replace it with the right names. ;) Sorry!
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Chapter 3 – Unexpected Complications
The girl was waiting patiently in the middle of the waiting area when Mac headed over with Stella for the interview. It was common procedure; Mac had to make absolutely certain that this girl was indeed Taylor's sister before he handed the boy over. It wasn't until the CSIs had gotten up close, though, that they noticed the slight fidgeting and the worry in the brown eyes – that, incidentally, weren't at all like Taylor's. She looked to be about 15, somewhere between a girl and a grown woman, and yet her manner was all too adult as she turned to greet them with a rather wan smile.
"Hello," she said, her young voice tinted with just a hint of hopefulness. "Have you found my brother?"
Since she was looking at Stella, the woman smiled reassuringly and answered, "Well, we're not sure. We have to get a bit more information from you before we make certain, all right?"
The girl nodded nervously, and sat down without waiting for an invitation. Mac and Stella joined her, both of them taking their seats opposite her on the sofa. Stella began when Mac didn't volunteer.
"So," she asked, notebook in hand, "Your name is…?"
Tired brown eyes met hers, and the girl replied, "Shayla. Shayla Fawkes-Berenson. I usually go by Berenson, but Fawkes is my father's name. My brother is Taylor Eighn Berenson, and he's twelve this year. He's been missing for a whole day already. He didn't come home at all last night, and he hasn't been at school or at home this whole day."
Which could easily be explained, thought Stella, since he'd been at the hospital all day with Flack. Taking down some cliff notes, she asked, "How old are you?"
"Fifteen." Shayla looked up rather defiantly. "Our legal guardian went out of town for a conference in Las Vegas. He won't be back until tomorrow at least. I was supposed to be in charge until then, but when Taylor disappeared I called him. He's on his way back, but I thought I'd come here first and make the report. I left my other brother at home with the baby, so I knew I could come here."
Legal guardian? Stella frowned, but Mac beat her to it.
"What happened to your parents?"
The girl's eyes flashed a little, but she shrugged and replied, "Don't have any. They're both dead – to me, anyway. Shawn took me in when I was five and I've been with him since then. Same goes for my brothers. Jesse and Taylor don't have any parents but Shawn. And my little sister Meggie was recently adopted from a local orphanage. Shawn's our dad, but officially we have to call him our legal guardian."
Momentarily stunned by the revelation – not exactly something one heard every day - Stella paused. Thankfully, Mac was ready to take over.
"Some guy, your "dad", taking in four kids like that," he commented quietly. "Anyway, about Taylor. You say he has a birthmark…?
A quick nod. "On his right shoulder. It's small, shaped like a spider. Not like the one on Spiderman's costume, but it's still…spider-like."
Jane had noted the birthmark when she'd processed the boy thoroughly in the hospital, and Mac had even seen the photograph of it. Though the thing looked nothing like a spider to him – Spiderman's or otherwise – Mac had to admit that if he saw it from Shayla's point of view, it could have eight legs and multiple eyes. Maybe. He did have to stretch his imagination a little, but he finally saw it.
It wasn't enough for him, though. He needed a little more…though it was going to be rather difficult, since Taylor couldn't remember much about himself, so how would they check the validity of any facts Shayla provided about her brother? They would need physical evidence, decided Mac.
Sensing his hesitation, Shayla asked, "What's wrong?"
"Well," said Mac, before he paused. "Well…"
Stella quickly took up the thread of his sentence. "What my friend means," she told Shayla, "is that we can't just hand Taylor over until we're absolutely certain that he's really your brother. It would really help if you had some physical proof, documents maybe, or some other kind of distinguishing mark on his body that we can check – besides the birthmark," she added as Shayla looked ready to protest.
The teenager thought for a moment, and finally said, "I…I don't have access to Taylor's birth certificate and adoption papers – those are in Shawn's office, and it's locked. And Shawn won't get back until tomorrow." She looked up pleadingly. "Can't…can't I see him? If he could see me, he'd tell you I'm his sister, and then -"
"That would be the problem," Stella sighed, explaining, "The boy we have found has amnesia. He does remember a sister, but he wasn't very sure about the fact."
Shayla blinked. "Am…amnesia?"
Looking at her expression, a mixture of fear, shock, horror and disappointment, Stella glanced at Mac. The poor kid was worried sick and about ready to drop – for all her maturity, this was something she wasn't yet ready to handle. Mac's expression softened, it was clear that he felt for the girl, too, but until they had some proof…
They were interrupted just then by one Sheldon Hawkes, who looked rather confused as he beckoned urgently to Mac. Stella stayed with the girl as the detective went off, wondering what was going on.
Meanwhile, Shayla bent her head and clasped her hands together in her lap. With her eyes closed tightly, it looked like she was praying.
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Joining Hawkes by the water dispenser, Mac waited as the younger CSI fidgeted slightly and said, "I think we have a problem."
As if they didn't have enough? Mac rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck and fought off a sigh. "What is it, Hawkes?"
The former coroner turned and pointed towards the reception area. All Mac saw was a middle-aged couple waiting by the receptionist's desk, but apparently Hawkes knew a little more than he did. "Who are they?" he asked, curious.
Hawkes drew himself up a little, dramatically announcing in a loud whisper: "They're the Gianettis. They say that Taylor – our Taylor – belongs to them. They're claiming that he's related to them, and he's staying with them while their cousin – that is, Taylor's father – is in jail. And here's the clincher – they say their cousin is Sonny Sassone, Mac."
Mac turned and looked at the couple with renewed interest. Anyone that had anything to do with Sonny always interested him, and the fact that these people had come in person to claim Sonny's – alleged – son…
It meant that either Taylor had something they wanted, or that Taylor really was Sonny's flesh and blood. A simple paternity test would prove the truth, but something didn't feel quite right. He got the feeling that Shayla was telling the truth when she said Taylor was her brother, and somehow…he didn't feel that Taylor belonged with the Gianettis, despite their claims.
Luckily, it was his job to discover the truth. Nodding to Hawkes, he left the other man eavesdropping by the water dispenser as he strode purposefully over to the Gianettis.
The couple introduced themselves as Sam and Eliza Gianetti. Sam was in his mid-forties, with slicked-back dark hair and a rather self-satisfied expression on his smug face. His wife was in her late thirties, touching forty maybe, with blonde hair the clolour of wheat and rather watery blue eyes that Mac disliked on sight. They were cunning, those eyes, and filled with a sort of deep intelligence. The word 'snake' came to mind, but he pushed it aside and forced himself to keep his prejudices well under control.
"Detective Taylor," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. Sam shook it, and nodded heartily.
"Yeah, we know all 'bout you, don't we, Liz?" he asked his wife, sneering at Mac as much as he dared – this was, after all, a police station. "You're the copper who put our Sonny in jail."
That was true, so Mac said nothing in response. Abruptly, he asked, "My colleague tells me you're here for your missing nephew?"
At once, Sam's manner changed, and his expression became nearly tragic. "Yes, yes…our cousin's boy, poor kid. He's been living with us while his Papa's in jail, and he went missing about a day ago – young rascal must have been out all night, bless him."
"We'd like him back," agreed Eliza. "Normally we wouldn't bother, we've got five kids waiting for us at home to feed and love, but we're partial to this one, y'see, he's a good lad, and we promised his Papa we'd take good care of the boy."
"Yes, Sonny's our favorite cousin," Sam put in. "Was a wrench when you blue boys put him in jail. We just know young Taylor misses him – and us."
"I wouldn't know," Mac eyed the couple carefully, not buying this sudden act of compassion one bit. "You do know the boy has amnesia? Convenient, I suppose – he won't remember you one way or another, nor his "Papa"."
"Amnesia?" cried Eliza, looking horrified. "The poor child! What's happened to him, Detective?"
Mac kept his expression neutral. "He was badly beaten up. But anyway, the fact is that I can't simply hand him over to you – not without proof that he's your cousin's son, or that you're both his legal guardians. So -"
"We anticipated that, Detective," Sam cut in quickly. His big hands began patting himself down until they came up again with an envelope from his jacket pocket. "We brought our papers, and some for the boy. So you'll see we're telling the truth."
Mac felt like someone had just checkmated him when he had been about to win the game. Frowning in disbelief, he took the envelope from Sam, and pulled out the documents inside. There was a birth certificate for one Taylor Eighn Berenson, born on the 18th of October 1994, whose mother was Carla Rubin and whose father was one Sonny Sassone. There were also official documents and certificates stating that Sonny Sassone had signed his son Taylor over to the care of his cousins, Samuel and Eliza Gianetti, until he got out of jail, or until Taylor turned 21, whichever came first. The documents looked real enough, but Mac was determined to have them tested and checked first – a sentiment which he quickly informed the Gianettis of, and to which both heartily agreed.
"Hell, go ahead, Detective – we've got nothing to hide, do we, Liz?" Sam had that self-satisfied smile on his face, and Mac got a sinking feeling deep inside. Sam's smile was already telling him that the documents were probably legitimate, and by law, he now had to hand Taylor over to the couple, despite what his instincts were telling him inside – that Taylor didn't belong with these people, documents or no documents.
Feeling slightly sick, he forced himself to assume a poker face and faced the couple once more. "Whether or not these documents are authentic," he informed them firmly, "an investigation will have to be opened, since you're not the only people laying a claim on Taylor. Taylor's sister has also come down to the station, and she too claims to have genuine documents that state Taylor belongs with her and their legal guardian. I cannot hand Taylor over to either side until I know the truth as to where he belongs."
Sam's smirk slowly dissipated into a scowl. "What?"
"Detective," said Eliza, leaning forward slightly and trying to look earnest, "I'm willing to bet my last nickel that this girl you're talking about doesn't have anything. Taylor's our nephew, and he belongs with us, least until his father gets out of jail."
"Sorry." Mac wasn't going to give in on this point. Not when Taylor's well-being was involved. "Not until a full investigation has been done."
Sam scowled harder, turning and muttering something to his wife. Mac let them discuss in whispers, until finally Eliza looked up again.
"You win, Detective," she allowed graciously. "An investigation it is, but you'll find we have nothing to hide. We'll be back, though, and we'll not leave without Sonny's son."
Was that fear or defiance that he saw in her eyes? Mac squinted a little, but it didn't matter. He got to his feet, bade the couple goodbye, and rubbed the back of his neck again before heading back to Stella.
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And another chapter bites the dust... ;)
Please say "Pongo" in your review if you have read my author's notes and enjoyed this chapter. :)
Random quote of the day: "There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line."
Kudos to those who are bearing with me - you are lifting my spirits during a truly trying time for me. The person who invented examinations should be shot. (sigh)
RK9.
