Evelyn
Chapter 26
Checking the caller I.D. on her cellphone, Evelyn's hand trembles as she accepts the call from Alexis. "You have a lot of cousins in Minnesota," the teen announces without introduction. "The thing is their profiles were submitted by one of those ancestry tracing programs, and they're only identified by number. I submitted contact requests. So far, I have an acceptance from one. I can call her if you want, but I thought maybe you'd like to do it."
"White cousins?" Evelyn asks.
"Uh-huh. That's how the genetic profiles look. The one who accepted is an Anderson. That doesn't help much, really. Anderson is the second most common surname in Minnesota. There are 51,000 of them, almost 1% of the population of the state. So do you want me to make contact?"
Evelyn swallows and draws a deep breath. "No, I'll do it. Did you find anything else?"
"Not so far. In a way, that's good news. If your family was criminal, it might be easier to trace. But I'm still working on it. New profiles are added all the time. And if you want to tell me about anything you learn from your cousin, that might help too."
"I'll let you know," Evelyn promises.
Martha's gaze sweeps up and down Brad Connors. "Describe the character you will be portraying."
"He loves guns, but he's a bigoted sonofabitch," Connors assesses. "He hates blacks, Jews, and probably anyone of color."
"Why do you think that is?" Martha asks.
Connors stares at her in confusion. "Why does that matter? He's a vicious scum bag."
"It matters," Martha explains, "because it will be part of your backstory. It will inform every word you say and how you say it. It will affect the way you hold yourself and the way you move. So, tell me about William Jones. Where did he grow up? Where did he come from? And unless you have a talent for doing dialects, I'd suggest somewhere in New Jersey, since that's how you sound."
"You're right," Connors acknowledges. "I was born in Newark. My parents moved to New York when I was a teenager because my mother got a job at a publishing house and she didn't like the commute. My dad was a rep for a gun company. He was traveling all the time anyway, so it didn't matter to him where we lived. If Jones also lived in Newark, he might have had parents like the ones of some of my friends. They resented the influx of blacks from the South, and then after the riots in 1967, they were scared. Some of them lost their businesses. So they moved out whenever they could, mostly to the white suburbs. They didn't want anyone but other whites around, and they thought they needed guns to defend themselves."
Martha claps her hands. "Good! Excellent! That's who William Jones is, the child of parents like that. He's paranoid and resentful and angry. He blames anyone but himself for whatever goes wrong with his life and clings to his guns as the only thing he can trust. You'll have to climb into that skin. Can you do that?"
Connors rubs his palms against the fabric of his pants. "I think so."
"We'll practice until you're sure," Martha declares. "And we should probably also get you some tattoos to add physical depth to your character. I know a makeup artist who will do an outstanding job."
Evelyn pulls her hand back from her phone. Maybe she should send an email first. Then she can compose and edit her thoughts. No. If Sonia Anderson released her phone number, then she expects a newly discovered relative to use it. She may not expect that relative to look like Evelyn, but it will be easier to tell that in a conversation than in an email. She reaches for the phone again.
"Cousin Evelyn"! Sonia exclaims. "I wish I could reach through the phone and hug you. The family split that happened back in the 1920s was a real Romeo and Juliet story. I've always wondered what came out of it. And now I've found you!"
Evelyn shakes her head at the cheery, slightly nasal voice coming through the speaker of her cell. "I'm sorry, Sonia, I have no idea what you're talking about. I lost my birth parents very young, and I don't know anything about the family history. What Romeo and Juliet story?"
"It was in my great-grandfather Stephen's diary. His sister, Karina, went to the University of Minnesota. She fell in love with Timothy Brown, a black boy, one of the few at the school. Timothy's grandparents had fled slavery and settled here. Our family forbade the marriage and told Karina they'd have nothing to do with her if she married Timothy. So she and Tim ran away together. Stephen got a few letters from her from Michigan. Karina said she and Timothy were married and were trying to find a place to settle down. The last one came from Detroit. Karina told Stephen she was pregnant. After that, he didn't hear anything else, and no one in the family knew what happened to Karina and Timothy or the baby."
"From the little I've found out about my birth parents, they came from Detroit. They were teachers there. Karina's baby might have been my mother, Mara," Evelyn realizes. "Karina would have been my grandmother and Timothy, my grandfather."
"It sounds like it," Sonia agrees. "Evelyn, our family is having a reunion over the Labor Day weekend. I would love to meet you, and there's a lot you could learn about the whole clan. The Andersons aren't the jerks they were when Karina and Timothy had to leave."
"I appreciate the invitation, Sonia, and I'll think about it," Evelyn promises.
Brad Connors regards the "88 boots" tattoo on one forearm and the skull on the other. "My Honor is Loyalty" is prominent on his neck. Martha Rodgers' friend gave him a special mixture that he guaranteed will remove the hatemongering artwork. Brad can't wait to be able to use it. He'll be meeting Jerrold Evans at a restaurant in Mahwah, New Jersey. From what he can see on the web, it's a nice place. He's wearing a shirt that leaves just enough faux ink showing to send Evans a visual message. Brad checks his watch. If he leaves within the next 10 minutes, he should make the meeting with time to spare, even in the metropolitan area traffic. Kate Beckett and Richard Castle will be trailing him, along with Ryan and Esposito. The com Esposito gave him to stick deep in his ear, should allow them to pick up every word. He mentally reviews everything Martha Rodgers said. He'll be combative, resentful, William Jones. He can do this – he hopes.
Jerrold surveys the menu. He pretty much knows it by heart, which is just as well. He hates having to wear his reading glasses. He's early, but he wanted to see Jones walk in the door. He can learn a lot from a man's walk, and he likes sizing people up before he meets them. He can learn even more from hands. Callouses from slide stops and trigger guards tell a story. Sometimes he can figure out a man's favorite weapon, just by the marks it leaves. He looks up as a figure comes through the door, right to the minute for their appointment. Even from a distance, Jerrold can see strong shoulders that would stand up to the kick from a powerful gun. A hint of hostility shows in Jones' deliberate stride. Good. Jones could be a valuable recruit to the cause.