Chapter 31 A tilt of an axis (or perhaps a kick in the ass?)

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Breakfast felt like it lasted forever and a day. It was slow, torturous ordeal, then again what came next, a trip upstairs to dr. Cullen's home office, didn't exactly sound enjoyable either. And on top of everything else, Edward was being a royal pain in the ass.

"You better start talking, Swan!" he demanded, his hangover momentarily forgotten as he quickening his steps to keep up with Bella's fast pace up the stairs.

He was following so closely on her heels, that she damned near stumbled over him twice.

Gritting her teeth, she restrained herself from chewing him out for being such an annoying, whiny prick. At least he was talking in complete sentences now, instead of just grunting and glaring. It had to count as progress of a sort.

"Forget it! It was nothing important," she told him, sprinting the last few steps up the stairs.

"No way! What exactly did officer Franklin say? First you conveniently forgot to tell me he called and now you won't tell me what the call was about."

"Convenience has nothing to do with it. It just slipped my mind," she told him, shoving his shoulder to get him to give her some space.

"And you only just remembered about it five minutes ago?"

"Yes! Five minutes ago, when I saw Elliott dip Em's phone into his bowl of cereal. Is that so hard to believe?" she asked, feeling slightly offended at his obvious doubt. "Anthony was doing almost the precis same thing with the TV remote the other day while I was on the phone with Franklin."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Surely he must have had a reason for calling?"

"Surely, but if you keep this up you'll never find out what that reason was," she informed him before taking off again. This time she didn't slow down until she had reached the door where Edward's father was waiting for them.

Carlisle's tone was nothing but amused as he greeted them. "I see I was right about physical activity. It really does do wonders for a soggy brain. Wouldn't you agree Ms. Swan?"

"It seems that way. Two flights of stairs and he is starting to sound almost coherent," Bella replied, unable to keep a grin off her face.

"Hey, don't talk about me likeI'm not standing an inch away."

"I'm sorry, son. You haven't exactly been on your most pleasant behavior this morning. You're clearly more alert now though, so that's a step in the right direction. Speaking of steps, why don't you come inside and have a seat," Carlisle suggested, holding the door open wider. "Both of you," he clarified, when neither one of them moved.

"I hope this is alright with you Isabella? I was thinking we could have a little chat while I take a look at that arm of yours. You're entitled to privacy, of course, if that's what you prefer. "

"No, this is fine. I don't think you could make him wait outside even if you tried. He's impatient and stubborn that one."

"Those are family traits, I'm afraid," Dr. Cullen chuckled.

"Still right here!" Edward reminded them with a huff.

"We know Edward."

"Yeah, your presence is kind of hard to ignore, seeing as the fumes you're exhaling strongly resemble those of a toxic waste dump," Bella informed him, ever so kindly, as she rounded him on her way over to the examining table. "But since you're here and since we can't so anything about it, I suggest you close the door, so that we can get this over with as fast as possible."

"The lady is right. Let's get this over with. We have a busy day ahead of us," Carlisle agreed and then pulled out a stool, that he placed in front of his desk chair. "Here Isabella, come sit on this! Though, I think you'll want to remove some clothes first. I'll be needing full access to the wound."

"O-oh, " Bella felt her heart plunge to the pit of her stomach. She had not thought of that and she really, really should have. "There was a blanket here yesterday…. I don't know why, but I seem to be cold to the bone today."

"Ah…. Edward, could you…." Carlisle snapped his fingers and pointed towards the storage units that ran along the wall opposite the door.

"What am I? A dog or something?" Edward grumbled, casting his father an annoyed glare. "Shouldn't you be a little nicer to me, if you want me to fetch you things?"

Carlisle acted like he hadn't caught the remark or seen the look. Bella, however, had heard and seen it loud and clear. It was the opening she needed.

"As a general rule, you'll get back what you put in," she tsked, calling him out on his childish behavior, hoping to get on his nerves. Edward didn't disappoint. He took the bait easily enough.

"Ganging up on me? Gee,thanks a lot Swan." he sneered, turning his back to her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she laughed dryly as she watched him rummage through various of drawers and cabinets.

When he turned around again he held what appeared to be a brightly colored, giant, fleece poncho in his hands. He held it out for her to grab, but yanked it back when she reached for it.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want this?" he asked innocently.

"Children, children," Carlisle chuckled. "I sense some pent up frustration here. Do you want me to step outside and give you some time to work this through?"

"NO," they both protested in unison.

"Are you sure?" he asked quirking an eyebrow at them.

"We're sure, Dr. Cullen," Bella stated, more calmly this time. "I mean, you've seen how grumpy he is, right? I have no wish to be alone with him at this point…. or anytime soon."

"Yeah, she's right. That wouldn't be productive at all," Edward was quick to agree. Too quick…

Bella glared at him from the corner of her eyes. What was he up to now? This did not bode well…

The fleece garment was dropped in her lap. "She's all yours," Edward told his father and then stepped back until he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a sinister smile across his face. "Maybe you can get her to talk. She's obviously up to something. She's prone to picking petty fights as a mean of stalling. She does this every single time there is a conversation she wants to dodge."

"I don't think it's my place to…." Carlisle started, but Bella had already fixed Edward with a blazing look, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

"If anyone is stalling it's you!" she snapped. "Don't think you have me fooled one bit. I know damn well you made sure I overslept on purpose this morning."

"You obviously needed it," he pointed out, not looking the least bit guilty.

"…and Emmett's hangover? I willing to bet that was your handiwork too. Actually, Edward, at this point I'm not sure I believe any of this is pure coincidence… not even the snow on the drive way. "

"I think I've heard enough," Carlisle cut in, plucking a pair of surgical gloves from his desk and snapping them on. "How about you save this conversation for later," he suggested, in a no nonsense tone of voice. "I think it's time you let me have a look at that wound now," he added, motioning for Bella to unbutton her shirt.

Crap! She was running out of time. She still needed a diversion; a good one… Goading Edward to lose his temper had seemed like the obvious route to take… unless… suddenly another, less manipulative idea came to her….

"OH-MY-FREAKING-GOOD! What was that?" she squealed, using the highest pitch of her voice. It was abrupt, it was sudden, it was deafening, and both men turned to stare first at her, then at each other.

"What?"

"There, in the corner, behind that box!" She pointed and then made a big deal out of bolting out of her seat. Taking a few steps back she acted like she was trying to put some distance between herself and the object of her sudden outburst. "I swear there was something running across the floor."

Carlisle reached for his overhead desk lamp. "It was probably just a mouse," he suggested, letting the light sweep across the floor.

"Not a mouse. It was a big, fat rat! That's what it was!" Bella insisted, letting her voice waver a little. She could have had so much fun with this had it not been such a delicate situation. "Actually, I think it's behind the bookcase now," she added to keep them distracted.

All she needed was half a minute to slip out of her shirt and long sleeved top …err… Edward's shirt and long sleeved top….and cover herself with the fleece thingy.

How difficult could it be?

Very, apparently. Her pulse had gone from normal to racing and now she had the shakes. Her fingers were not cooperating and there were buttons that needed to come undone. Some agent she was…. sigh…

It took another ten, fifteen seconds before she finally got the shirt out of her way.

"There it is again!" she squeaked, the nerves in her voice only partly pretend.

"Where?"

"To the right! Can't you hear it? It's moving again," she half-whispered, half- hissed, as she hurriedly wrapped the poncho around her like a very lumpy, very odd shaped towel. It wasn't pretty, but it was the best she could come up with under the circumstances.

"I can't hear a thing." Edward grumbled, getting down on his knees to look under the row of furniture lined up against the wall. "Hand me a broom or a mop or something," he demanded, rolling his sleeves up like he was preparing for a fight.

"Aww, my hero!" Bella snickered, unable to keep a straight face now that her own crisis was seemingly averted.

"I mean, hurry up and squash that filthy, disease-spreading vermin!" she amended when she saw him scowling at her over his shoulder. She threw in a shudder for effect. Apparently it wasn't convincing enough or maybe it was too convincing…She could practically see the moment his mind clicked and he figured it out.

"Wait! Hold on a second! Since when are you afraid of a harmless rat, Swan?" he asked, springing back to his feet again.

"Harmless? It was the size of a squirrel," she protested.

Edward was glaring at her suspiciously "There was no rat, was there? You're just trying to get back at me for… well…everything."

She laughed then, a low, dry laugh, because really, what else could she do? "You caught me. I'm totally messing with you," she admitted, secretly high-fiving herself for a well executed diversionary maneuver.

Carlisle cleared his throat. "Uhm…I hate to interrupt, but we still have a wound that needs medical attention," he reminded them with a somewhat odd expression on his face. Poor thing kind of looked like he had just watched something he couldn't quite wrap his mind around.

"Of course," Bella nodded and carefully placed herself back on the stool she had been appointed to. "I've kept my T-shirt on. I hope that's okay?" she asked, holing out her arm and pulling back the sleeve to give him full access of the bandaged area.

"Yes, I can work around it. Are you comfortable, or would you rather move over and lay down on the padded table?"

He sounded odd. No, more than odd, he sounded concerned.

"No, this is fine," Bella insisted.

"Don't hesitate to let me know if you feel dizzy or lightheaded, alright?"

"Gee, doc. You sound like you're about to chop my arm off or something," she tried to joke but it fell flat.

"Ah no, I can almost guarantee that your arm will still be attached when I'm done with it," Carlisle replied without as much as a hint of a smile. "There might be blood though," he warned, rolling his chair over to her and then gently started tugging at the dressing on her arm. "In fact, son, why don't you stop sulking for a few minutes and make yourself useful. I'm sure Isabella wouldn't mind some distraction right about now."

Edward looked like it was the most ridiculous thing he had all morning. "Excuse me, but I think I'm entitled to sulk! She just played me for a fool and laughed at my expense. And then there is the whole secrecy thing… She's keeping things from me. I know it as sure as I know the snow will thaw."

"You're doing yourself no favors here, son," Carlisle interrupted somewhat abruptly. "If she's keeping something from you, she probably has her reasons. You're making it damn hard for anyone to trust you with anything at the moment."

Edward looked like he was about to protest, but then thought better of it. "Fine, I can take a hint. I'll back off, for now," he sighed. "Just tell me one thing, is it bad news? Franklin's phone call? Are you keeping it from me because you think I'll react badly to it?"

"Edward!" his father sighed. "I'm at the end of my patience with you this morning."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Cullen. We've been acting like bickering little children and it's just as much my fault as it is Edward's," Bella hurried to apologize on Edwards behalf. "It's only natural that he has questions about that phone call; questions that I have every intention of answering. I didn't want to get into it until all the involved parties were present, that's all."

"All involved parties? What does that mean?"

"I think she's saying that she wanted both of us present for this. I suspect she wants my professional opinion on something. Is that's right, Isabella?" Carlisle guessed.

"Something like that," Bella nodded. "You're not going to like hearing this, but the police have decided to close the investigation. That's the reason behind officer Franklin's call the other day."

Edward made a miffed sound, but before he could say anything, Bella went on retelling the rest of the phone call. "He knew very well you weren't going to be thrilled about that decision, so he threw us a bone. I guess you could call it a peace offering of sorts. He gave us fingerprints."

"Fingerprints?"

"Yes, fingerprints. They were retrieved from pamphlets found in the church where Anthony was abandoned. It appears as though the priest tried to persuade Anthony's mother to change her mind by giving her a few folders about Catholic group homes and supportive groups for single mothers and their children."

"How were these pamphlets not covered in zillions of fingerprints?" Edward questioned with a dubious frown on his face.

"Conveniently for us, they were freshly printed. Came straight out of the box, it seems..."

"And this woman held them? Touched them? Before threw them in the trash. No wait I bet she told the priest to shove them up his robe covered ass. I bet this is when he learned she wasn't God-fearing, church-going catholic."

"She held them, before she handed them back. I don't know how the conversation went."

Carlisle cleared his throat. "Did the police know about these fingerprints all along, without sharing?"

"It appears that way," Bella replied. "Franklin says he wanted to run them through the appropriate state records before he did anything else."

"Of course that's what he's saying," Edward interjected, somewhat impatiently. "He had no interest in keeping the investigation alive or else he would have passed them on to us straight away. Surely he knows that you have access to all kinds of federal resources he could only dream of getting his hands on."

"Maybe so, but he has been very thorough. I doubt these fingerprints will be the breakthrough we're hoping for."

"They could prove very valuable later on though," Carlisle pointed out. "Fingerprints are actually considered one of the most reliable forms of identification, more reliable than DNA even."

"That's true." Bella agreed. She was turning her head to nod at him when she caught sight of the freshly changed bandage on her arm. "Hey, you work fast! You nearly done?"

"I'm just going to secure it with a couple strips of tape, but once I'm done with that you're good to go."

"This was a breeze compared to the torture you put me through when you cleaned it the first time."

"That's because I didn't have to dig for glass shards this time. It's a nice clean cut, with no sign of infection," he explained, pushing his glasses a little further up on his nose. "Now, seeing as we're already touched on the subject of blood and gore, I have a DNA related question…"

"Alright… shoot!"

"This is going to sound strange, but are we sure that the woman, who brought Anthony to the church that day, was in fact his biological mother?"

Edward's head snapped up in surprise, Bella however, didn't as much as bat an eye lash.

"That's not a strange question at all. Feel free to elaborate."

"I think you're both aware that I've been calling in some favors, right?" It was a rhetorical question and he didn't wait for them to respond before he continued. "I've spoken to a few selected friends with high up positions in the medical field. One of the people I've been in contact with is the head supervisor of Seattle's inner city EMT service. He called me back a few days later telling me that one of the EMT drivers remembers an incident involving a child suffering from an allergic shock and a woman with a butterfly tattoo on her neck."

"When was this?" Bella questioned with piqued interest. "…and where was it?"

"Judkins Park area, sometime around June last year. He drove them to the ER of the UW Medical Center. The child went by the name Tony."

"Have you been able to verify this?"

"No, I haven't received any confirmation that the boy in the ambulance was in fact our Anthony. I doubt we'll ever find out for sure. The interesting part is that the driver claims that the woman with the tattoo was NOT the mother of the child; that she was merely a sitter, or a nanny, or family member or something to that extent. According to him, she spent the entire ambulance ride on the phone arguing with someone."

"Uh... this all sounds pretty vague to me, "Edward interjected, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning on.

"No, please, let me finish before you say anything," his father suggested, pulling the latex gloves from his hands throwing them in the trash. "Here's the thing; the EMT driver says it stuck to his memory because of the nature of the phone conversation that he overheard. The child was clearly in need of medical attention, displaying a number of alarming symptoms like facial swelling, discoloration and severe wheezing, yet the woman had to spend a better part of the ride defending her decision to call 911. The rest of the call was spent arguing over money."

"Because the boy was uninsured," Edward guessed.

"It appears that way," his father confirmed. "I'm thinking she might have a roommate. She could be living with a family member, or a friend. Or she could be moving from place to place,like a nomad,with no fixed residence."

"That fits," Bella agreed. "We know she has been having a rough financial situation. She's been forced to cut costs on a lot of things since the child was born. Her splitting rent with someone does certainly plausible given the circumstances. There is also a strong possibility that Anthony has never been enrolled in any type of day care or childcare service."

"Ah, I see where you're going with this," Carlisle nodded. "If that's the case, then there might have been times when this woman has been forced to rely on family members, friends, neighbors, maybe even strangers, to look after the boy."

"Which brings us back to your original question. What if it wasn't Anthony's mother that brought him to the church that day? What if she convinced someone else do it for her?"

"You think she paid someone to do her dirty work?" Edward asked, sounding confused. "Because didn't we just agree that she has no money to speak of?"

"It could have been someone who genuinely cared for the child," his father suggested. "Someone who didn't do it for money. Someone who stepped in and did what he or she thought was ultimately the right thing Anthony. This of course means that the mother could have been long gone by the time you got to the boy and the letter."

"Long gone? How far can she possibly have gotten with no money?"

"Actually, I think your father means long gone, as in dead. Am I right Dr. C?" Bella asked for clarification.

"I…okay, now you lost me," Edward frowned.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Isabella. I'm not questioning your intelligence or professional competence in anyway, but…."

"There is a specific someone you think I might have overlooked."

Carlisle nodded, "Yes, Angela Weber. She was ruled out early, but on what grounds? If you don't mind me asking."

"Whoa! WAIT? Crazy Angela? Stalker Angela?" Edward screeched, but no one around him took any notice of his outburst. In fact Bella was already answering the question. "Firstly, she had been dead for several moths when Anthony was found abandoned. Secondly there was nothing in her records indicating that she had birthed a child. And finally, the handwriting and the way the letter was worded. We found no resemblance between this letter and the many handwritten notes that Ms. Weber was kind enough to leave on Edward's doorstep."

Edward crossed his arms in an angry fashion. "Most importantly, I think I'd know if it was Angela," he stated with firm conviction. "I would have remembered. Meeting her again would have triggered something."

"I don't disagree with you," Bella paused, choosing her next words carefully. "But in the light of this recent development, I suggest we run a DNA test to settle this once and for all."

"Can you really do that, post mortem?" Edward asked looking at his father for answer.

"I don't see why not. Standard procedure would be to go through the family of the deceased to get access to the DNA needed to conduct the test."

"That's where her possessions went after her passing, yes, but these people did not take the news about their daughter's suicide very well. There is something not quite right about that whole family if you ask me. You don't want them anywhere near Anthony. You'll have to trust me on this one."

"I see," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "We'll need to get the DNA elsewhere then."

Edward, sighed. "Isn't that kind of hard to accomplish when the woman is six feet under?"

"Hard but not impossible. It's only been three or four months since she died. All it takes is a hairbrush, a pillowcase, a toothbrush…. ONE nanogram of DNA can be extracted from as few as 200 skin or saliva cells."

"Don't look at me! I don't have anything that belongs to her, neither does Anthony as far as I know."

"Angela Weber was Elliott's nanny. Alice was technically her land lord and she visited Emmett's gym quite frequently… I don't think we'll have to go all that far to find something we can use." Bella paused and offered him a small smile, a sad one, that didn't reach her eyes. "Don't you see, Edward? This is yet another reason why it's important for me to get back to New York."

And with that conversation turned sour again in a matter of moments. It didn't surprise her, she had predicted that much… Edward storming out of the room with an angry scowl on his face, didn't surprise her much either.

It was quiet for a few moments, before Bella sighed and turned to Carlisle, mentally preparing herself to apologize. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

"He doesn't know does he?"

"Know what?"

Instead of answering Carlisle reached for his desk lamp. "There are several mirrors attached to this thing, magnifiers too, did you know that?" he asked, angling the lamp so that Bella could see for herself what he was talking about. "There are virtually no dead angles."

"Oh…." Bella felt her blood run cold.

"I had my suspicions, but I wasn't sure until I saw for myself."

"I don't know what you think you saw, but it isn'twhatitlookeslike." She realized she must sound like a royal bitch, but it couldn't be helped. Doctor or not, she wasn't about to confirm anything to this man.

"So the reason you haven't told him is because it doesn't concern him?"

She swallowed and blinked, the lie was on the tip of his tongue, but she couldn't go through with it. Suddenly she felt tired, exhausted, and so sick of all of it.

She said nothing, and the room was silent for a brief moment until Carlisle spoke again. "Listen, I take the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing very seriously… but…"

"But he is your son and family comes first."

"I'll give you some leeway, but he needs to be told."

"And he will be. He'll know everything he needs to know. I have no intention of hiding anything from him. It's just a matter of timing. It's complicated, alright?"

"I've guessed that much.

"I'd like to get through this without having my blood pressure skyrocketing. Also, I'd hate to see Anthony get hurt by any of this. Their relationship is so fragile."

"I'm not ruthless. Family comes first."

"Family comes first," Bella agreed, feeling like the world had just tilted and nothing would ever be the same.

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AN: So...Carlisle knows... the baby reveal is fast approaching. I know I've said that for a while, but there are still a few plot details that needs to be resolved before we get there. In the next chapter Alice will arive at the scene.