Chapter 11
Liv nestled comfortably against Jackson’s chest, her fingers running through his fine chest hair as they lay in bed together. His consideration set off odd feelings inside her. She’d had sex before, but they… they’d just made love, hadn’t they? I’m in trouble.
Jackson pulled back. He was staring at her. “You seem a bit distant. Everything okay?”
Liv sighed softly. “Just... thinking about everything. The fires, the lives lost... the unknowns.” My feelings for Jackson. “What caused the murders to start now?”
Jackson gently pulled her closer. “Molly might have some answers. Any word from her yet?”
Her body tensed, and her eyes turned dark. “She identified the first body.”
“Livvy, what’s wrong?”
“It’s part of the investigation.”
“You can’t tell me, can you?” he asked.
“It will become part of public record soon enough. She identified the body as Robert Kendrick.” Liv watched his face.
“Kendrick, my adoption attorney?” Jackson met her deep gaze.
“Yeah. They had his DNA on record from a previous incident. I”m hoping she can identify the other bodies, maybe from dental records or whatever”s left... ashes or… maybe there’s a relationship between them.”
Jackson’s hand ran small circles over her belly. “You”re doing everything you can.”
Worry lines creased her brow. “I”m afraid there might be more. More fires, more injuries... maybe even more deaths.”
She shifted slightly. “I need to visit the Waverlys. See what they’ll admit to knowing. Sinclair Waverly lives with his son Silas and his wife in their home on the edge of Waverly Junction. Sinclair’s wife passed away. According to the deeds, they remain owners of the land the ruins sit on, as well as the Terrene Theater and Fiddler’s Restaurant.”
“They own half the town and have interest in the other half,” Jackson said.
Liv rolled in his arms and caressed his cheek. “I need to research the town history a little more. I know I’m missing something.” She looked at him. “Jackson, have you had any contact with anyone from the Ashcroft family?”
Jackson’s brows furrowed. “Livvy, where are you going with this?”
“Your mom died in that fire. Could someone on the Ashcroft side be looking for revenge? Hell, if anyone had a valid reason for revenge, it would be you,” she whispered.
Jackson’s muscles tightened. “No, I didn’t start those fires. And I certainly didn’t kill anyone. You can’t think I would. I didn’t learn all the details until I spoke with my mom.” He sat up abruptly, and she toppled over onto her side.
She wrapped her arms around him. “Jackson, I know you didn’t start the fires or hurt anyone. But I’m sure others are wondering if you’re involved.” She tried to pull him down. “You know how this town is. I want to protect you.”
Jackson stayed seated on the bed. “You don’t have to protect me, Livvy.” He kissed her forehead. “We need to find out who the dead are. Call Molly.” He got up. “I need a shower.” He walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Jackson saton the closed toilet. She wanted to protect him. From the town gossip or something more?
Why was Robert Kendrick dead? And why had his body been placed at the Waverly estate? His head was spinning.
He stood up, running his hands through his hair, and turned the shower on. Stepping beneath the hot spray, he rested his forehead against the tile wall. As the hot water beat against his shoulders, his tension began to circle the drain, along with his confusion.
How could she not ask those questions? She was right. Until they knew who the dead were and why a body was found where his mother died and he was found as an infant, Liv had to ask questions. He needed to let her follow the investigation to wherever it led.
The lingering scent of Liv”s vanilla bean body wash amused him, a faint smile lifting the corners of his lips. It was a small reminder of her and the night they just spent together.
Wrapping himself in a towel, Jackson inhaled deeply, steadying himself before reentering the bedroom. He needed to explain how he was feeling. He couldn’t let his fears lead him.
* * *
Liv stayed seatedon the edge of the bed, holding her head between her hands. With a deep breath, she reached for her phone and dialed Molly, seeking answers. She kept the phone pressed to her ear. “Mol, please tell me you made progress with the IDs of the other bodies from the fires.”
“I”ve just finished some of the preliminary analysis. The body from the theater... it”s not just a random victim. It was another town council member, from the time Dad and David Reynolds were involved. The DNA came back belonging to Harold Thompson. His DNA was in the system after he was accused of domestic battery in a paternity case. The weird thing is no one reported him missing.”
Liv slapped her forehead. “Another council member? Shit. What about the third?”
“The third body was also a council member from the same era. Edward Wilson. He was a former Army staff sergeant turned police officer turned council member. I was able to match the DNA from the army. His family only filed a missing person report with the Waverly Junction PD yesterday. My assistant said he was an enforcer for the council. And, Liv, they weren”t killed in the fires. They were already dead.” Molly sounded worried. “All from gunshot wounds.”
Liv blew out a harsh breath. “Tell me about DNA testing back in 1980. How reliable was it for determining maternity or paternity?”
Molly grew silent for a moment, then replied, “DNA analysis wasn”t used as evidence until 1986. Establishing parentage was even harder.”
“But if someone needed to confirm their parents or lineage back then, how would they do it?” She watched the closed bathroom door.
“Blood typing was commonly used, along with other methods like HLA testing. But without DNA testing as we know it today, the accuracy wasn”t high. It could provide definitive indication of who was not the parent, but not definitive proof of who was.”
“HLA typing?” Liv’s head ached.
“In the early 1980s, Human Leukocyte Antigen typing was used in tissue matching for organ transplants rather than for establishing paternity or maternity. What are you thinking, Liv?” Molly spoke in her business tone.
Liv”s heart pounded. Her sister”s voice crackled over the phone, waiting for a reason for her curious questions about HLA typing in 1980.
“Molly, I need to tell you something... something about Jackson.”
Molly’s voice turned deep, “What”s going on?”
Liv took a deep breath. “Jackson was born in 1980. There”s something I found out... He was the miracle baby found beneath a dead woman at the site of the original Waverly mansion fire. She was identified as Rainey Ashcroft and as his birthmother. At the time, Chris Waverly was seeing her. He died that night too, right after he had an argument with the city council.”
“The baby found by Dad and David Reynolds?” Molly asked.
“Yes. David and Martha Reynolds adopted him. And Robert Kendrick was the adoption lawyer.”
There was a pause on the line. “Wait... Rainey Ashcroft was his birthmother? I guess it was confirmed by blood type and HLA testing?” she grunted. “Liv, are you saying Jackson might be blood-related, not just to the Ashcrofts, but possibly to the Waverlys too?”
“I don”t know what I’m saying, but the pieces... they seem to be fitting together in a way that”s hard to ignore. The bodies from the fires and Jackson”s past... It”s starting to feel like there might be a connection.”
“This is a lot to take in. Are you implying Jackson is an Ashcroft?”
“Not implying. The timing, the circumstances... they”re just too coincidental. And with the information you provided about DNA testing back then, it”s making me wonder.”
Molly groaned. “I understand. Liv, be careful. Investigating something like this could lead to unexpected truths. And the big problem is you’d have to find an Ashcroft. Lore says there aren’t any living Ashcrofts.”
“Thanks, Mol. And... keep this between us for now.” She hung up with a shaking hand. No, she needed more information. She stared up at the ceiling and dialed her sister again.
Molly answered after a few rings, sounding concerned. “Liv, what”s going on? Something else?”
As Olivia thought about Jackson”s parentage, her brow furrowed in thought. Her gaze was distant as she weighed the possibilities. Internally, her mind raced with questions and uncertainties. “How can we find out for sure about Jackson”s paternity and maternity? Is there any way to confirm it definitively?”
Molly’s voice broke through her reverie, pulling her back to the present moment. “With the advancements in DNA testing now, we could certainly reexamine the evidence,” she suggested, her tone thoughtful and measured. “Modern DNA analysis is far more accurate than the methods used back then. It might give us a clearer picture. Does Jackson know what you”re thinking?”
“So, how?” Liv inquired, her eagerness palpable.
“We could explore other ways, like finding any stored samples from the case or locating potential relatives for comparison,” Molly talked through possibilities. “Does Jackson know?”
“And what if there”s no direct evidence or living relatives?”
Molly”s response was steady and reassuring. “Look into historical records, family histories,” she suggested. “But first talk to Jackson.”
“Would that give us a definite answer?” Liv was starting to sound frantic.
“It might not provide absolute certainty, but it could certainly narrow down the possibilities. It”s a complex process, Liv, especially with the time that”s passed.”
“What if we exhume the bodies from the original fire?”
“First, it’s me who does the exhumations.” She sighed. “That would be a huge step, Liv. You need to speak with Jackson first. If you don’t believe me, run it past Michael. And if not him, call Brad.”
Liv stayed quiet.
“Are you listening to me? You used to get like this when you wanted Mom to give you something. One-minded. YOU NEED TO TALK TO JACKSON.”
Molly’s raised voice brought her out of her frenzy. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Jackson. I’m stymied. I’ve got dead council members. I’ve got cryptic notes about a phoenix. Jackson was found at the site where the first body was discovered. The connection between Jackson and those deaths, his true parentage... it might all be tied together.”
“You’re sure there’s a connection?”
Liv didn’t answer.
“Liv, there are a lot of cogs in this. You need to figure out, was Rainey really an Ashcroft? Why did she use the Bradshaw name? Who was Jackson’s birth father? And you need to prove it.”
Liv stayed quiet.
“Just promise me you”ll tread cautiously, Liv.
“Thank you, Molly. I”ll figure something out.”
“Just be careful. This could open up a huge can of worms.”