Identity (7 page)

She left some money on the table and walked to Astral, one of the hot new restaurants in the Boston area. Tyler Frasier was enrolled in a culinary arts college downtown and was spending the summer as a prep cook at the restaurant. He’d agreed to meet Fina before the dinner crunch.

Fina tapped on the glass door, and a bartender motioned that they were closed. After a small game of charades, he admitted her to the space, which featured lots of bamboo and enormous hanging lanterns. The menu was a fusion of French, Vietnamese, and various cuisines from the Pacific Rim. The bartender directed her to a set of swinging doors that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen was spotless, with shiny stainless-steel prep areas and enormous multi-burner stoves. Fina walked around a corner and found about ten Hispanic men in chef’s whites seated around a table. They were eating family-style from large platters. There were bowls of tortilla chips and dishes of what looked like salsa in front of them. When she asked for Tyler, one of the men directed her to a counter at the other end of the room.

“Tyler.” He looked up when she said his name. He was wearing a chef’s coat and those baggy black-and-white-checked pants that you never saw outside a professional kitchen. A blue bandanna was tied around his forehead, and his feet were encased in black Crocs.

“Hey, Ms. Ludlow,” he said, pausing his chopping.

“Please, call me Fina.”

“Sure.” Tyler looked around and called out to the men in Spanish.
A conversation ensued with Tyler holding up his hands and knife. Fina stood there awkwardly, but after a moment, an older man with a bright smile carried a stool over to Tyler’s prep area and put it down next to Fina.

“Gracias,”
she said to the man. “I could have gotten that myself.”

“They just like giving me a hard time,” Tyler said. “I would have gotten it, but . . .” He held up his hands once more.

“Got it.”

“So, you wanted to ask me some questions?” Tyler grabbed a carrot from a heaping stack and began to julienne it. His knife moved in a flurry, and he was on to the next carrot before Fina could answer.

“You sure this is a good idea, talking to me while you’re doing that? I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

“No worries. I could do this with my eyes closed.”

Fina watched him produce a mini blizzard of carrot matchsticks. “Okay. Did your mom tell you about Renata Sanchez’s lawsuit?”

“Yes, but I already knew something was up. Rosie told me a few weeks ago.”

“She told you her mom was going to sue?”

“She told me that Renata had some plan up her sleeve.”

“That makes her sound kind of sneaky.”

“No, just that when other people might quit, Renata finds another way.” Tyler was accumulating a sizable mound of carrots. The orange color popped against the stainless steel and white of the kitchen.

“So you know that Rosie is opposed.”

“Yeah. We’ve kind of agreed to disagree on that one.”

Fina decided to change tacks. It was often a fruitful interviewing strategy. “How long have you known the Sanchez family?”

Tyler paused for a moment, his knife hovering over the cutting board. “I don’t really remember not knowing them, but I didn’t know Rosie was our half-sister until about four years ago.”

“You found out when you were fifteen?”

“Yup. I went on one of those donor registry sites and got a match right away. It’s cool that she’s our sister. Weird, but cool.”

“So how does your sister feel about Rosie?”

“Jess likes Rosie, but she doesn’t think of her as our sister.” A roar of laughter erupted from the other end of the room. Fina and Tyler both looked in that direction.

“I left a message for Jess.”

“Don’t hold your breath waiting for a callback. She wants no part of SMC drama.”

Fina nodded. “How did your mom feel when you uncovered the connection with Rosie?”

“Oh, she was pissed at first—not about Rosie, but that I’d been digging around.” Tyler grinned. “I’m not known for my carefully thought-out decisions.”

“Most people your age aren’t.”

“I stress my mom out on a regular basis. Nothing bad came from that particular decision, though. Rosie’s cool. I like having a second sister. Do you have any sisters?”

Fina paused for a moment. “I kind of had one, but not really.”

Tyler looked perplexed.

“I had an older sister who died before I was born. She was a toddler when she died.” Fina had grown up acutely aware that she, Josefina, was a poor substitute for her sister, Josephine. It didn’t take a shrink to see that much of the Ludlow dysfunction could be attributed to this tragedy in their family history.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”

Fina adjusted her butt on the stool. “But what about the lawsuit? Did Renata ask
you
how you felt about it?”

Tyler took his container of julienned carrots and opened a large refrigerator behind him. He slid it onto a shelf and pulled out another tray stacked with peeled carrots. He put it down on the table with a bang and reached for one.

“She didn’t ask Rosie; you think she asked me and Jess?”

“Well, that’s obnoxious.”

Tyler laughed. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

“Do you want to find out the identity of your donor?”

At the other end of the room, the men were pushing back their chairs and standing up from the table.

Tyler shrugged. “It could be cool.”

“What if he isn’t interested in being a dad?”

Tyler pushed down on the knife and a carrot crunched under its blade. “I’m sure it will work out. Rosie worries about stuff too much. Just like my mom.”

“I know your mom doesn’t want you to give me a DNA sample,” Fina said. “We talked about it this morning.”

“She told me, but I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

“Indeed you can.” Fina studied him. “So does that mean you’re willing?”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“There’s a lab in the city I’ll send it to that is connected to a DNA database. They’ll let me know if there’s any kind of a match. The odds aren’t high that your dad will show up, but it’s not unheard of for a relative to match. It would give us something to go on.”

“But then will they destroy my sample? It’s not like I’m planning on murdering anyone . . .” He smiled and the dimples emerged on his cheeks.

“They’ll destroy the sample, but not the test results. You have to agree to be a part of their database, which they can run other samples against in the future.”

He twisted his mouth into a small frown. “I don’t really like the idea that my info is on file someplace.”

“I totally get that. It couldn’t be accessed by law enforcement, though, not without a subpoena, but another half-sibling may use the service someday and get a match with you. They’d have your name. If you aren’t comfortable with that idea, then don’t do it.”

Tyler put down his knife and walked around the table to Fina. “Renata is like a runaway train: better to hop on than stand in her way. And I like Rosie; might be cool to have another sister or brother.”

Fina reached into her bag and pulled out the test kit. She ripped open the package, Tyler opened his mouth, and Fina swiped the inside of his cheek. Nearby, one of the other cooks eyed them suspiciously.

“I’ll tell them that you’re my baby mama,” Tyler said, grinning devilishly. “That should get tongues wagging.”

“I’m old enough to be
your
mama, but thanks for the compliment.” Fina put the swab into a plastic test tube that came with the kit and dropped it into her bag. “I’ll let you know if I get a match.”

Tyler gave her a loose salute, and Fina threaded her way back through the kitchen.

Walter took his time filling his mug from the cappuccino maker in the kitchen. He had splurged on the machine, but good coffee was a necessity in life as far as he was concerned. Most of the staff seemed to appreciate his generosity. He carried the froth-topped mug into his office, where Ellen Alberti was sitting in front of his desk, engrossed in a conversation on her cell phone. He put down his coffee and sank into his large leather swivel chair. He tapped his wristwatch and looked at Ellen.

“I’ve got to go,” Ellen said, “but that sounds terrific. Let’s get a meeting on the books.” She listened and then laughed. When she tipped her head back, a small gold charm fell into the hollow of her neck. Ellen was very attractive.

“That was Kevin Landry,” she said after hanging up. “He’s running the NRM conference this year.” As a board member, Walter always attended the National Reproductive Medicine conference. It was an opportunity for him to hobnob with the other movers and shakers in the specialty and stay informed about the latest medical advances.

“Hmm,” Walter responded.

“He has an idea for a panel. I think it’s a great opportunity.” Walter sipped his coffee as he listened.

“I’d be happy to participate. Just check my schedule with Jenny.”

“Actually, Walter, he’s asked me to participate.”

“Really?” Walter’s tone implied his doubt.

“Really.” Ellen smiled at him. He could never tell if she was being genuine with her bright smiles. Sometimes they struck him as mocking punctuation she added to the ends of her statements.

“So did Margery fill you in on the brochure?” he asked.

“She did.”

“Good.” Walter had led a meeting the day before to discuss Ellen’s newest project.

“I was concerned about something, though,” she said, and looked at him.

Walter knew what she was going to say: that she was upset he had held the meeting without her.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, but I was concerned when you convened the meeting yesterday. Since you’re well aware of my schedule, I wondered if you got mixed up?” She tilted her head. “Perhaps had a lapse?”

Walter stared at her. “A lapse?”

“Yes.” She winced. “You wouldn’t have purposely excluded me from my own meeting, so I wondered if you were feeling all right.”

“I’m just fine, Ellen, but I appreciate your concern. Since Margery filled you in, let’s move on to other business.”

“Of course.” She adjusted in her seat. “A private investigator stopped by earlier today. She’s representing a Heritage client who is threatening to sue to reveal the identity of her donor.”

Walter sipped his cappuccino. “That’s absurd. No court will even hear a case like that, let alone rule on it.”

“I agree, but it could stir up some unwanted attention, and the climate is changing. I’m sure there are other parents who share her frustration with anonymous donation.”

Walter puffed out his chest. “They all signed the papers. They knew what they were getting into. Seems ungrateful to me.”

“I don’t think we want to broadcast that sentiment.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that we should. What did this PI want from you?”

“Nothing. I think it was just a shot across our bow, but I thought you should know.”

“Good luck to her. It will rack up legal fees on our end, but I suppose that can’t be avoided.”

Ellen shrugged. “The cost of doing business, but I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her.”

“No?”

“You know Carl Ludlow, right? It’s his daughter. They’re known for being bulldogs.”

“Well, there’s nothing for them here,” Walter said brusquely.

“I know, Walter, I’m just saying that I think she’ll be back.”

“We have better things to do than fend off frivolous lawsuits and overzealous investigators.” Walter drained his coffee. “Let’s discuss the new FDA recommendations, shall we?”

Ellen nodded her assent and consulted the notepad on her lap.

He was quite sure that he was irritating Ellen, and that was just fine.

•   •   •

Fina stopped at an office building in the Longwood Medical Area and submitted Tyler’s swab to a private lab that promised results within forty-eight hours. The general public assumed that DNA tests took an extraordinarily long time, but that wasn’t true. The testing itself was expeditious, but expensive. Police departments and district attorneys didn’t have the money to run the tests, which explained the delays and backlogs. That was one of the benefits of working in the private sector: Fina didn’t have to work hard to stretch her dollar.

She continued on to a modest ranch house in Newton, a home that would be considered comfortably sized in other towns, but was downright small by Newton standards. A collection of thirteen villages, Newton was a much coveted suburb of the city that offered strong public
schools, parks and lakes, and prime marathon viewing. Houses went for millions of dollars, but there were also starter homes in the range of half a million. The street Fina turned onto was a mix of retirees who’d bought their homes decades ago and young families bringing in six-figure salaries. The small front yard of 56 Wellspring Street was tidy, and a welcome plaque hung next to the front door. Fina knocked on the screen door frame before letting herself in.

“Hello?” she called out.

“In the kitchen,” a voice responded.

Peg Gillis was standing at the sink, looking out the window into the backyard. Her hands were covered in suds. Fina stood next to her and followed Peg’s gaze. The freshly cut lawn sloped down to dense woods and was bordered on either side with rhododendrons.