Chapter 4
By late that afternoon, the contents from the collector had been divided and placed in two special evidence bags clearly marked with a large 'B'. Those samples then joined a pair of identical bags marked 'A' already in two different normal USPS boxes. Each box was mailed from a different location with clear instructions about what testing was expected in an unsigned note.
The first box went to a Pennsylvania address, while the second was forwarded to a post office box in rural Oregon. Both were private labs that Jackson and Rita had used countless times before. They were both well known for their accuracy, discretion, and lack of written records for anyone hoping to subsequently find them. Each was run by former agency forensic staff who sought a less hectic life selling their expertise to a growing niche market of lawyers and their suspicious partners.
The turnaround time would be about two weeks and that anxiety would only add to the burden that the next fourteen days were sure to bring. Due to the agency's change in engagement strategy, eight employees from Drawer 7 were voluntarily leaving. These were trusted, dependable, and experienced contributors who felt their expertise was no longer valued by their political overseers. Rita and Jackson weren't happy either, but opted for a gradual transition so the remaining staff could have the benefit of their advocacy in front of leaders increasingly hostile to keeping them on.
Luckily, five had gotten jobs with the same private security company. All were women which pleasantly surprised Rita. They were good matches for those kinds of positions though the hiring process was a tad bit unorthodox. Beside the usual string of interviews and marksmanship demonstrations, all were subjected to a gauntlet of real fight competitions with a mix of anonymous opponents.
The first, with someone smaller, went off with a lopsided win. The second, against a woman of equal size, took a bit longer, but was still a win. The third, with a partner much bigger, was a melee of fists, feet, and elbows effectively crashing into the body of the other. Neither seemed inclined to end it when one of the big shots in the audience told them they had seen enough. Apparently the first two matches were about a demonstration of skills, while the last was simply about endurance. The small group of onlookers must have liked what they saw because job offers were extended before any of applicants could wash up. All thought it was kind of odd to broach salary and benefits while they were barefoot and reeking of sweat.
The next week would be filled with the final exits for those lucky five. One a day was scheduled at different office parks within a two hour radius of their home. The places were vetted in advance, and cameras on that day experienced mysterious minor outages no one seemed too concerned about. Rita was good at that, while Jackson checked the room for any surprises just before the guest of honor arrived.
The meetings were mostly cordial. Past successes and a few comical moments were discussed without any rancor. The hard part was dealing with sad memories of colleagues lost or maimed often from events beyond their control. Contact often led to chaos where the best laid plans became moot. It was part of the job. Not a fun part, but a very real part nonetheless. When the remorseful nostalgia ran its course, an agency lawyer was summoned with paperwork to discuss the secrecy pledge they would now be bound by.
The meetings with the last three were slogs neither Rita or Jackson looked forward to. It was like going to wake though no one died. Their goal was to not take the bait for any rehash of grievances they had already espoused to anyone who would listen. The idea was to convince them to look forward. One thought a boat building hobby might turn into a modest repair business. The other two were going to milk their severance and hope their partners didn't mind their lack of initiative. Rita doubted that was a good strategy, but didn't voice that to any to them. When the lawyer came in, they took their leave with a hug and handshake and headed for the door without ever looking back.
The first lab report arrived on Saturday, but they chose to disregard it until the second showed up. It came three days later. That night, dinner was a quick affair. Neither had much appetite or interest in small talk. After clearing the table, they retired to their small front room with large tumblers filled with some rather good Scotch Jackson rarely opened. Each picked up an enveloped and opened it carefully. The plain sheet of white paper inside each had just a few lines on it. Both were dumbstruck to find both proclaiming the samples were not related. Jacks was not Castle's daddy - no matter what Martha said.
Jackson's immediate reaction was a string of profanity primarily aimed at Martha. Rita took a large gulp from her glass, said nothing, and thought 'WTF'?. When Jackson's tirade ran out of steam, Rita chimed in to say, "Well, this is a shit show. Do you intend to confront Martha? Can't imagine her face when you shove these in her face. Of all her youthful indiscretions, why the hell did she have to award you the fatherhood trophy?"
"Doubt that's wise", responded her husband. "No good comes from the seeing the very person we need to credibly disentangle from. We need to kill this myth and make sure no one is ever tempted to revive it."
Not many would see the complexities hidden within this brief exchange, but Rita would. She was a born planner, and her husband was a natural disrupter. It created an odd synergy of purpose that started in silence as Rita drafted ever longer specifics from an evolving mental picture of just how that might be accomplished. She then presented her outline to Jacks, and that's when the bantering started. It was done without any rancor because both knew the final product would be better for it.
The first to know about their plans were the neighbors when Rita has casually mentioned her giddy excitement at the prospect of going on a foreign trip. The destinations were fuzzy, but Europe and Asia were mentioned. The actual itinerary included Florence, Jerusalem, and Manila. All places with sympathetic, trusted, and discreet comrades who would carry out the misinformation campaign Rita and Jackson had carefully concocted.
Jackson was buds with the group in Florence, while Rita had a kind of flirty thing going with the contact in Jerusalem. They would divide and conquer, and both left feeling quite happy with the cooperation they received. The party in Manila was the weakest link because his loyalties to them were not as strong as the others. They needed leverage and found it in one of his shaky younger siblings who could not afford to be outed. A natural quid-pro-quo for their silence insured their full cooperation, and the misinformation campaign could now be discreetly introduced with all three looking out for any noisy nellies kicking the tires.
On the home front, Rita would again become preoccupied with the beds that were now in sorry shape. The neighbors had noticed and hoped it was not a sign she was losing interest in the curb appeal of their new abode. Her kneeling presence for hours on end assured them that was not the case. Many began to engage her about her horticultural endeavors, and she was surprisingly much more forthcoming about what she termed 'tales from the beds'.
Those spontaneous chats grew into budding friendships particularly with Gert, who with her partner, Jerry, lived just next door. On many mornings, Rita would happily withdraw from the beds for an open invitation from Gert for coffee and something very sweet. Gert was a natural baker and liked having company sample her latest sugary concoction. Gert was an open book about family and her work life and didn't seem to mind that Rita was not.
What Gert and the others did not know was Rita and Jackson were having what she called a 'quiet period'. The news about Castle had unsettled him far beyond anything she expected. His mind was preoccupied with what if anything to do next. Telling Castle was the plan in the morning. Afternoons, it was the exact opposite. Evenings, he was lost in a wave of ambivalence where even her rather blatant attempts at foreplay were not getting the lustful rise she expected.
Rita liked her husband's views in the afternoons. She wanted to encourage that line of thought but knew from past experience now was not the time. He was brooding, and that time would come soon enough.
