“And that’s it,” Eric said, putting his coffee cup back down on the table of the small but elegant restaurant where they had just finished lunch. “I talked to Jake’s boss, and his co-workers, and the people who were supposed to be his friends. None of them knew anything much worth while, except that he kept to himself. I got pretty sick of hearing that.”
“So what’s your next step?” Collins asked.
Eric shrugged. “His house. Unless you have any better ideas?” he asked Wes.
“Not really. What are we going to do, go to the local cops for a search warrant?”
“Nah.” Eric had a faint but definite smirk on his face. “We don’t need a warrant.”
Wes frowned. “We can talk to his neighbors, but if he kept to himself so much we won’t get much out of it.”
“We can check his house. Maybe he left a door unlocked.” Eric grinned and got to his feet.
A few minutes later they paused on the sidewalk, the beautiful columns of the state capitol and the park behind it in the background as they said their goodbyes.
“Bye, Dad,” Wes said. “I’ll be talking to you.”
“Let me know how things go.”
“We will. And...” he hesitated for only a moment, “thanks. For everything.”
“No thanks necessary. For anything.”
“Can I say thanks for lunch?” Eric asked, not quite standing at attention.
Collins smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “It was a pleasure. Good luck to both of you, and see you soon.”
Wes eyed Eric disapprovingly as his father walked in the direction of the capitol and his offices. “Even when you don’t salute him, you salute,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re practically his son-in-law.”
“God forbid.” Eric grimaced. “Can we go now?”
“Uh huh. What did that crack about Jake leaving his door unlocked mean?”
Eric gave him a bland look that did nothing to reassure him. “You’ll find out.”
“You picked that lock while I was looking around in front, admit it,” Wes was grumbling half an hour later as they stepped through the back door of Jake Walsh’s small and modest rented house in one of the less expensive suburbs of Sacramento, and paused to look around a none-too-clean kitchen.
“I could have gotten the key from his landlord. Or one of his friends at work.”
“But you didn’t.” Wes shook his head, doing his best to keep an amused smile from his face. “I thought I was supposed to be the irresponsible one.”
Eric rolled his eyes impatiently. “We’re in, aren’t we? Let’s take a look around, and then we can start knocking on his neighbors’ doors.”
“Oh great. Just what I love, knocking on strangers’ doors.”
“You’re the one who wanted to do this yourself.” Eric’s tone was absent as he looked into the sink, opened a cabinet, closed it again, and then flipped up the lid of the garbage can. “He’s been here recently; the top layer of dirty dishes and garbage is pretty fresh. And look at this.”
Wes stepped closer and glanced inside at a pile of empty cans, take-out cartons - and several liquor bottles glinting in the bright light. “Lots of drinking going on. And not much food.”
Eric let the lid fall. “My keen detective instincts tell me our pal Jake’s gone on a bender.”
“Was he drinking all along? Or did something set him off?” Wes wondered. Getting only a shrug in answer, he looked around again - and then upwards as something caught his eye. “Hey, what’s that?” he exclaimed.
Eric followed his gaze and then came closer to stand at his side. “Beats me,” he said finally, still staring at the almost square metal object, about a foot on each side, sticking a few inches out of the ceiling.
“Looks like a box or something.” Wes thought he could see the edge of a glass panel along one side before it met the ceiling. “Strange.”
“Maybe Jake’s into modern art. Come on, let’s check out the rest of the place.”
It wasn’t until they searched the bedroom that things got interesting again, as Wes lifted a lacy garment from a dresser drawer and poked at a small pile of similar underwear, neatly folded in contrast to the masculine clothing they had already gone over. “Hey, Eric. Unless Jake’s a little kinkier than we thought, I guess we need to cherchez la femme.”
Eric was beside him a moment later, taking the bra from his hand and lifting a pair of panties for a better look. “No, these aren’t his size,” he said seriously. “Yeah, looks like Jake’s got a girl. But there’s only a few things here.”
“Check the closet.”
As Wes went through the rest of the drawers Eric quickly searched and then reported, “No clothes, but there’s some empty space and a couple of old pairs of women’s shoes on the floor. Definitely not Jake’s size.”
Wes looked up. “More empty space here. I’d say this woman was living with him, but she moved out. Probably packed in a hurry, too.”
“Yeah. And recently, since Jake hasn’t gotten rid of the stuff she left or rearranged his things.”
“Hold on, what’s this?” Wes pulled out another, larger, piece of clothing that had been stuffed in the back of a drawer and shook it out. At first he thought it was a nightgown, until he held it up.
Eric whistled. “Well. I guess that complicates things.”
“Sure does.” Wes frowned as he looked over the maternity shirt in his hands. “This looks worn, and it looks like it was sitting there for a while. But - no baby stuff around.”
“Maybe. Or maybe we’re not looking hard enough.” Eric stooped, and then knelt to look under the bed. He got up, glanced under the dresser and into the closet again, and then headed back out with Wes following. In the living room, after a similar search, he straightened from reaching under the couch and held out a small blue plastic object.
“A rattle. So there was a baby here,” Wes said.
“Looks that way.” Eric’s face was grim. “He left some of his girl’s stuff around-”
“-But he got rid of everything the baby used.” Wes exchanged a glance with his partner. “I guess Jake’ll come back sooner or later, but-”
“But neither of us feels like waiting around in this dump,” Eric finished.
“Yeah. And we need to find this woman and her baby, the sooner the better.”
“Right. So which neighbor should we start with, right or left?”
“This time let me ask the questions,” Wes said as they went up the walkway to the second of Jake’s next-door neighbors, after having gotten nothing useful from the first beyond the information - again - that Jake kept to himself.
“Why? What’s wrong with me asking questions?” Eric said.
“Nothing. If you’re interrogating hardened criminals.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you barked at the poor guy.”
“I did not.” Eric looked indignant.
“Did too. Shhh.” Wes grinned confidently as they heard footsteps from inside coming to answer the doorbell. “Just watch the master at work.”
Ten minutes later they were on their way, having learned once again that Jake kept to himself. This neighbor, like the other, had seen a woman with him and knew she had had a baby, but nothing more about her.
Wes had to give Eric credit, he kept quiet until they reached the sidewalk. “Okay, master. What now?”
Wes couldn’t help a snicker. “Okay, okay. On to the next one,” he said, giving Eric a smile and dropping a hand briefly on his partner’s shoulder. Then he sighed and turned to look across the street. “I guess we try over there next.”
“Makes sense. Maybe someone got a good look at the girl, at least.”
“Man. Why couldn’t Jake have been a friendlier guy?” Wes complained as he stepped off the curb. “Why couldn’t he have given parties every week and told everybody all his business?”
“Too bad,” Eric agreed. “But easy or not, we’ve still got to find him.”
Wes nodded glumly as he raised a hand to knock. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he greeted the woman who opened the door a few seconds later as both he and Eric flashed the badges they used as officers of the Silver Guardians. SPD used almost identical badges, and they had become familiar to most citizens of California. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if we may?”
“Has something happened?” she asked.
“Nothing you need to worry about, ma’am. It’s about your neighbor.” He pointed back towards Jake’s house.
“Oh, him,” she said disdainfully. “He kept to himself, mostly.” Her eyes lit with interest. “Is he in trouble?”
Wes repeated the story he and Eric had decided on. It had the advantage of being the truth, or part of it. “No, no trouble. His family needs to get in touch with him and we’re just trying to locate him.”
“Oh.” She looked disappointed. Not a Jake fan, apparently. “Well, I don’t think he’s home now.”
“He isn’t.” Wes slanted a look at Eric. “We already tried his house. Any idea when he’s coming back?”
She shrugged. “Who knows? Sometimes I don’t see him for days at a time.”
Wes sighed inwardly, although he kept a smile firmly on his face. “Have you seen a woman visiting him?” he asked. “Maybe she was living there too?”
“Oh, you mean Sherry.”
“Sherry?” Wes tried not to let eagerness show in his voice. “You know her?”
“Well, sort of. She used to work at a health food store I shop at. Nice girl.”
“Yes, I’m sure... What’s Sherry’s last name?”
To his disappointment, the woman shook her head. “I don’t know. Her name tag said ‘Sherry’; that’s all I know. We said hello when we saw each other here, but we didn’t really talk much.”
“Could you give us the name and address of the store?” Eric asked.
“Sure.” She gave them the information and shook her head again. “It’s a shame. I don’t know what she saw in that Jake Walsh. I don’t think he treated her very nicely after she got pregnant.”
Eric stepped in smoothly again. “Yes, that’s something we’d like to ask about, too. The family didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, and certainly not a baby. Could you tell us what happened?”
“Not much to tell. They were dating for a while, and she used to be here a lot - a few times a week. It seemed to be pretty serious. Then bang, they broke up.” Her mouth tightened disapprovingly. “I guess maybe Jake didn’t want the responsibility of a baby. When Sherry started coming around again a couple of months later, she was already showing.”
“They got back together?” Wes asked.
“I guess so. They’d see each other off and on while she was expecting. Then things seemed to get better after the baby was born. Cute little thing, a boy. She showed him to me once. Maybe Jake changed his mind when he got to know his son a little. That happens sometimes, you know? Anyway Sherry moved in with him after a while.”
“But - she’s not there now?”
“No. They seemed to be doing fine - but all of a sudden, bang again. I guess they had a big fight because she moved out, and he threw all the baby’s furniture and things out for the garbage.”
“When was this?” Eric asked.
“Um... About two weeks ago. Or more like three. Haven’t seen Sherry since, and not much of Jake.”
“One more thing,” Wes said. “How old is the baby now?”
“Must be close to a year. Time flies, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Eric said, nudging Wes. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to get going.”
“Glad I could help, officers. I hope you find him. And make him take care of that poor girl and that baby!”
“Well, there it is,” Eric said as he switched off the car engine. They both peered out at the house they had tracked ‘Sherry’ - Sharon Michelson - down to, with the cooperation of the store where she had worked up until a little over a year ago.
“Let’s get started,” Wes muttered, and opened his door. Outside, he paused on the sidewalk, watching the house which sat behind a spacious lawn dotted with trees, as Eric joined him.
“Nice place,” Eric said.
“Yeah.” Wes shook his head. “I guess now we know why Jake started acting funny a year or two ago. Must have been when he found out Sherry was pregnant.”
“He couldn’t take Sky being different. What if it was his own kid who might be a freak?” Eric’s voice was soft and quiet. “He knew his DNA was affected by the accident, just like Nick’s. After the way he acted at the idea of having children that aren’t ‘normal’, I’m surprised he even took the chance of getting anyone pregnant.”
Wes smiled as they started for the walkway leading to the front door. “You don’t plan on these things sometimes.”
“He could have gotten a vasectomy.”
“I guess he’s not that smart, or he doesn't like the idea of knives near his equipment. Anyway, Sherry got pregnant and apparently he didn’t take it very well. But they kept on seeing each other. Maybe he cared about her enough to try to work things out.”
Eric nodded. “And after the baby came, he let them move in.”
“But then - something happened a few weeks ago?” Wes caught his partner’s eye as he raised a hand to ring the bell. “Maybe the baby started doing something unusual?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. If this one is like Sky, Bridge, and Syd...”
Eric’s voice trailed into silence as the door opened to reveal a petite middle-aged woman with brown hair, her smile wobbling and fading as she took in their uniforms, then reviving with an obvious effort. “May I help you?” she said faintly.
“Mrs. Michelson?” Wes asked.
“Yes, I’m Donna Michelson.” She looked apprehensive.
“Good.” Wes hesitated. ‘We’re looking for your daughter and her illegitimate baby by a man with mutated DNA’ didn’t seem like the right way to approach it. “Uh - we understand your daughter, Sharon, knows a man named Jake Walsh,” he said.
“Well, yes, she used to. Why, has he done something?” Now she looked almost hopeful. Another person who didn’t much care for Jake.
“No. I mean, we don’t know. We’re trying to locate him, and we were told your daughter was - er - involved with him.”
“Involved. I guess you could call it that.”
Eric gave him an impatient glance and cut in. “We were also told your daughter and Mr. Walsh have a baby.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with finding him.”
“Do you know where Sharon is?” Wes asked.
Mrs. Michelson’s chin came up with protective defiance. “What do you want with her?”
“We want to make sure she’s doing all right,” Eric said. “Mr. Walsh used to work for Bio-Lab, so we feel responsible for whatever he’s done. If he has a baby he’s not taking care of financially, maybe we can help out.”
Wes almost smiled. It was a clever ploy; hinting at an offer of money in hopes of information. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
“We’re taking care of our daughter, and her baby, just fine,” Mrs. Michelson said with an insincere smile. We don’t need help from Jake, and with no offense, we don’t need help from you.”
“Understood,” Wes said soothingly. “But we’d still like to talk to Sharon. We need to find Jake because of a family situation - I understand his father isn’t in good health, and both his parents are very worried about him.”
The appeal to sympathy worked where the one to greed hadn’t. Wes gave Eric a quick but triumphant glance as Mrs. Michelson hesitated, clenched her hands together, and finally nodded. “All right. Come on in, and I’ll see if she’s up to it.”
“Thank you.” Wes stepped inside.
Sherry Michelson turned out to be a blonder version of her mother: petite, pretty, fragile-looking, and nervous. Maybe most of the nerves were due to finding herself being interviewed by two uniformed Silver Guardians in the living room of her parents’ house, but Wes got a feeling of shyness and perhaps even timidity from her. He found himself wondering if that was what had appealed to Jake - a woman who he thought would never challenge him.
But timid or not, she was hiding something; he was sure of it within five minutes. And she didn’t intend to reveal it anytime soon.
“Do you have any idea why Jake would have stopped going to work?” he asked her.
“No. I don’t know what he did after I moved back here.”
“Why did you move out? An argument?”
“We had a discussion.”
“What was it about?”
Sherry shrugged. “Nothing.”
Wes put on his best sympathetic smile. “I understand many couples with a new baby have problems adjusting. Was that it? The baby?”
An even more guarded look came over her face, and she crossed her arms, hugging herself with shoulders slightly hunched. “My baby is fine. We just argued about - you know, the same stuff everyone does.”
“Maybe there’s some way we could help. If we can locate Jake, we could talk to him.” He tried to catch her eye but she avoided looking at him. “Unless he did something... Did he hurt you or the baby?”
“No.” Sharon shook her head. “Nothing like that.”
“Then help us find him and we’ll talk to him.”
“Honey, maybe they could help if you tell them what happened,” Mrs. Michelson said, wrapping a supportive arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
“Sorry, but nothing happened. I don’t know anything about what Jake’s doing now.”
“You were living with the guy,” Eric said, his voice just on the edge of harshness. “You must have some idea of what his problem is.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You had a fight that was bad enough for you to move out and leave the father of your baby. That’s not just ‘the same stuff as everyone else’.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Was it the baby? Did he do something? Did Jake get angry? Did he throw you out?”
“No, it wasn’t like that!”
“But he threw all the baby stuff out into the street. Why would he do that? What happened? What did you fight about?”
“There wasn’t a fight!” Sherry burst out. She hugged herself again and turned her face away.
“Then what was it?” Wes asked gently.
“I suppose - I suppose Jake’s not ready to be a father,” Mrs. Michelson said when Sherry didn’t answer.
“Yes.” Sherry looked at them again, her expression challenging despite the hint of tears in her eyes. “He’s not ready. And that’s all. Nothing happened. So leave us alone.” With the quick flash of a glare, she whirled and left the room.
“Sorry if we upset her,” Wes said as the rapid sound of her footsteps faded.
“Oh, don’t apologize,” Mrs. Michelson said in a resigned tone. “I was actually hoping she’d talk to you. Sherry’s father and I have been trying for weeks to get her to tell us what happened.”
“So you don’t know either?”
“No.” She took a few steps to the couch and sat with a sigh. “Sherry and Jake had some problems when she got pregnant. It wasn’t planned and - well, I think Jake wanted her to get an abortion, and she refused. They broke up - got back together - broke up again. Things got better after the baby was born, and she moved in with him. Everything seemed to finally be all right.” She gave a short laugh. “I was even hoping they’d get married. Then, almost three weeks ago, Sherry showed up at the door, half hysterical, with the baby and her things. Ever since, she’s not the same.”
“Not the same? How?”
Mrs. Michelson gestured vaguely. “She creeps around the house like she’s afraid. Won’t go out. Spends time with the baby but sometimes she looks at him like - like she’s afraid of him, too.”
“Ma’am - is anything wrong with the baby?” Eric asked. “Anything - strange that you’ve noticed?”
“No. He’s healthy.” She smiled wanly. “He’s the one bright spot in all of this.”
“Could we see him?” Wes asked.
The room they were using as a nursery was obviously a guest room hastily converted for the purpose. There was a crib, a scattering of toys, and various items of baby equipment, but also a rollaway bed and a desk. Wes followed Mrs. Michelson in and he and Eric looked into the crib to see a very normal-looking child in a blue and white outfit, sleeping peacefully.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Mrs. Michelson reached down to brush back a stray wisp of light brown hair, a soft smile on her face.
Wes repressed a grin as Eric rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “He looks perfect.”
“Our grandchild. No matter what his father is like, he’s still family.”
“Yes.” There didn’t seem to be much more to say. Wes took another, longer look, wondering what could have happened to make any father reject his own child like that. “Well, we’d better be going,” he said finally.
As they headed back to the front door Wes handed Mrs. Michelson his card. “Call us if you hear from Jake,” he said, “or if anything unusual happens.”
“Unusual? Like what?”
Eric answered her. “He means if you need any help with the baby. If anything goes wrong, call us.”
Mrs. Michelson looked confused. “Well, thank you, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will,” Wes said, holding out his hand. “Good night, and thanks.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
“By the way - we never asked what the baby’s name is.”
She smiled faintly. “Sherry gave him Jake’s middle name. Samuel. But we all call him Sam.”