Con Job (16 page)

Jacob pushed back the Con Ops door and dropped into a chair, but not because he wanted to. His body seemed to acting on auto-pilot and without his consent. He didn’t want to be in Con Ops. He didn’t want to be near anyone he was working with, people who liked him and maybe respected him and maybe, maybe would have given him good references when he was up for Academy admission.

But his body wasn’t listening to him, and it sat in Con Ops and stared at the photoshoot schedule as if it mattered.

“You okay, Jacob?” someone called, but he barely registered the words, much less who had said them. His phone buzzed — had been buzzing at irregular intervals — but he ignored it.

And then the door burst open. “Jake!” Sam stepped inside, scanned for him, started toward him. “Jacob, I just saw — I can’t — I can’t even….”

“Hey, is this for real?” Paul asked, staring at his tablet. “Our feed is going crazy with tweets about you being Little Jakey Tarston. Is that true?”

Jacob whirled, jolting the chair from beneath him. He started toward Paul, ready to tear the tablet from him and smash it to the floor, grinding the pieces into the industrial carpet.

Sam flung her messenger bag to the floor and took a step to reach the folding table of snacks for the Ops team. She swept the table surface, scattering pizza boxes and energy bars across the room. “What is wrong with all of you? Why are you in here talking about Twitter when there’s a creeper out there creeping on innocent kids?”

The room went quiet, and Jacob froze with the rest. Then Paul said, “Now just calm down a second. What are you talking about?”

“The same guy who was getting pictures of me is also getting pictures of minors. I think the con’s in enough trouble already, right? And that’s not going to sit well with anyone.”

“No, it’s not,” Paul said. He turned his head to Daniel. “Does Con Aid know about this?”

“We do,” answered Daniel, “although we’d be very interested to know what new information Sam has for us. Sam, Jacob, will you take a walk with me to the staff suite?”

They followed him to the other room. Jacob glanced at Sam and then looked away before their eyes could meet. She reached out and tightened her fingers briefly about his wrist.

Daniel held the door as they entered the staff suite and then shut it behind them. He turned to face them. “Okay, get it out, whatever it really is.”

Sam turned and pulled Jacob close, her arms squeezing about his shoulders. “I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I just saw.”

His arms rose mechanically to embrace her in return.

She held him a moment and then let him go. “You okay?”

“In there….”

“Yeah, you had a bad look on your face. I figured it would be better for everyone if we didn’t find out where it was going.”

“Yeah. Probably. So, thank you.”

She shrugged. “Meh. What’s the point of being a hysterical female if I can’t use it to somebody’s advantage once in a while?”

“While I appreciate what you did,” Daniel interjected gently, “you might want to go back and help with the cleanup. Also, is what you said about the minor true?”

“Yep. I just talked to another girl from the voice contest, who was all excited that he’d approached her with the same skeevy line about keeping in touch and he could drop her name to the right people.” Her jaw muscles tightened. “I hope his pants get dry-cleaned and shrink while he’s still in them.”

“Detective Martin will be glad to know about the minor — not glad, per se, or not glad about the creeping, but glad that it’s a lot easier to do something about that.” Daniel nodded. “I foresee an unpleasant few days in Brazil’s future. In the meantime, do you mind if I have a word with Jacob?”

Jacob’s stomach sank. The numbness was fading from him, and it was a horrid first sensation.

“Sure,” Sam said with only a hint of reluctance. She looked at Jacob, and he gave her a weak smile. She deserved one.

And then she left, and he was alone with Daniel, the weight of unspoken questions hanging heavy over them.

Daniel took a few steps away to straddle a chair. “So, what about this?”

“I’m… not Jacob Foster.” He sat down and looked at the floor. “I started using my aunt’s name when I went to live with her. She and my mom were half-sisters.” He was just delaying, he knew it. He glanced at Daniel and then looked away. “My real name is Jacob Tarston. And yes, I really was Little Jakey on
Cougars and Cold Ones
.”

There was a silence, and at last he looked again at Daniel. The big policeman was still, just looking at him. “Wow,” he said finally. “You just kind of forget those might be real people, I guess.”

“They’re not,” Jacob said, “not by the time the reality TV machine is done with them. My family was paid to be even crazier than they started, which was plenty. Mom wasn’t allowed to see her therapist while we were shooting, they used to tell different people different script scenarios to confuse us, they used to leave cases of beer outside the door just to make sure…. So much of that stuff was staged, but not in any way that felt like — we weren’t actors, you know? We were set up. We were one long prank being played on ourselves, only Mom signed us up for it and rolled right along with all of it.” He shook his head. “That was all fine for her, I guess, but I was a kid. I had no say in it, and she sold off my identity and any future I had.”

Daniel nodded once. “But you got out.”

“Aunt Lydia did all that. She knew I was going to be stuck under that forever — Little Jakey Tarston, the Beer Boy whose butt got pixelated out on daytime television. How would I ever get a decent job with that on my resume? What about college? And….”

“And the Academy.”

“The psychological exam. Now you know why I was worried.” Jacob swallowed. “A stable background, they want. No history of mental illness or irrational behavior.” He threw up his hands helplessly. “And I mooned old women in syndication while my mother threw beer cans at her boyfriend-of-the-week’s car. It’s a career-killer before I even start.”

Daniel drew a slow, audible breath. “Yep, that one would require some discussion with the shrinks.”

Jacob rested his head in his hands. “Aunt Lydia’s the only reason I’m out of all that. As soon as the show got canceled and the family wasn’t backed by the network lawyers, she tore into them with tooth and nail. She hit them with neglect, endangerment, something about lack of education, I don’t even know, she was a lawyer on fire. The rest of the family was hating all over her — I think now they were hoping to get picked up by the network again — and she pretty much didn’t care.

“Mom caved, finally. I think she saw that the court was probably going to grant custody to Aunt Lydia if it came to their decision, and if that happened, Mom would have no say over me and she couldn’t drag me back if the show ever got picked up again. So she stopped fighting and I went to live with Aunt Lydia. We’re still working on changing my name legally, because of the way the trust was set up, but I can use another name for everything that isn’t legal stuff. So I call myself Jacob Foster most of the time. My driver’s license still reads Jacob Tarston, but it’s not like I have to show that to everyone.”

“So your aunt got you out.”

“She got me away from them, and she got a share of what we were paid put in trust for me. Which was really smart, because Mom and them of course blew through it all in a couple of years, and every once in a while I get a phone call or an email about how they need money and it’s not fair that I have an account full of cash I’m not even using. Like it doesn’t matter that it’s paying for my education, so I don’t have to live like that.” He shrugged. “I’m just telling you this now because I know I’m lucky that I got out. I am. But… I wanted to make it a little further. To take my fresh name out and make it my own, prove that I can be what I want to be without that following me.”

“And you’re worried that it won’t happen.”

“Now that everyone knows who I am? Who I was?”

“Not everyone,” Daniel corrected gently. “Some people, at one event.”

Jacob tried to smile and couldn’t manage it. “You say that like Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr don’t exist. Little Jakey Tarston appears at a geek convention with multiple murders? You think no one’s going to grab on to that detail in a news story? I guess I can hope for a nuclear strike or something to draw off attention, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

Daniel sighed. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right. It’s not news unless it has a celebrity name in it.” He folded his hands. “But — I know my perspective on this is different than yours, but that’s an advantage right now. I know this seems like the biggest thing in the world, like it’s your whole life. Because it
is
your whole life, so that only makes sense. But it’s not everyone else’s life, and I don’t think they’re going to look at it the same way.”

Jacob eyed him warily. “What do you mean?”

“I mean people are selfish, egotistical little entertainment-seeking missiles, and if it’s not about them or amusing them, they forget about it like absent-minded goldfish on meth.” He shrugged. “So even if the story breaks, you sit tight and keep your head down, and don’t give them any drama. Don’t fight, don’t argue about what they’ve done, don’t talk about your new plans. Just, don’t. And with no news about what you’re doing, no hype about what you’ve done, not even any controversy over whether they should be focusing on you, they’re going to get bored and go watch the next Kardashian wedding or Hollywood rehab failure.”

Jacob stared at him. “I don’t think you get it. We’re talking the exposure of my life’s biggest horror, the secret I’ve tried to hide for years. The thing that could keep me out of the Academy.”

“And that’s a legitimate concern,” conceded Daniel. “It’s like taking one of the
Toddlers and Tiaras
brats and giving her a patrol car, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon. But remember, they’re evaluating you, not your television history. And if you’re calm and stable while this explodes around you, and you roll through it like a boss, that’s going to say a lot more.” He tipped his head in the direction of the Con Ops room. “Your friend did you a favor in there, but you can’t count on her to save you again.”

Jacob looked away. “I don’t know that I can just stand there while everyone’s watching old clips of me pulling my pants down.”

“Well, that might be a challenge.” Daniel sighed. “I’m not pretending it’ll be easy. I’m just saying that’s your best bet, if you want to ride this thing out and look good on the other side.”

Jacob propped his head in his hands.

“You and your aunt kept a tight lid on this thing for a long while,” Daniel said. “How’d it come out now? Where did all those episodes in the panel rooms come from?”

“I have no idea. But they didn’t connect to me, not directly. Not like this.” He clenched his fists. “That was Ryan Brazil.”

“What?”

“He got wind of the Facebook thing with Sam. Figured I was the one who had reported him, probably since I’d asked him about the pictures. So he checked in my wallet when I had it out on the table, looking for dirt. All he found was the driver’s license, but that was enough. And that was his revenge, blowing it up for the entire freaking convention. He gets caught creeping on girls, so I get to lose everything I’ve worked for over the majority of my life.” Jacob shook his head. “Figures he’s the kind of low-life who would even watch something like
Cougars and Cold Ones
.”

Daniel snorted. “He’s a classy fellow, all right. If it helps, just think of him as paying for your college education.”

Jacob smiled weakly. “Yeah. Kinda hard to think of him putting me through school.”

“You should thank him for it.”

Jacob turned to look at Daniel, incredulous.

“No, you should. Right to his face. Let him know that because of him and people like him, you’re finishing your degree with no overhanging student loans.” Daniel’s teeth flashed. “Be very sincere.”

Jacob snorted. “Okay, yeah, that might be funny. Right after I get done punching him repeatedly in the face.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re going to have to work a bit on that ‘ride it out’ thing.”

They were silent a moment. Jacob sighed and dropped his head into his hands again. His head hurt, and the movement pulled at taut muscles across his neck and shoulders.

“So your aunt Lydia made it,” Daniel mused. “She got away from the family sphere and made it into law school. How’d she do it?”

“She worked her freakin’ butt off,” Jake said.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Good for her.”

“Yeah. There’s a reason she collects superhero figurines. It’s like her real family album.” Jake grinned tiredly.

“She say that?”

“Nope. Just me. It’s true, though. Nobody’s tougher than my Aunt Lydia.” He tipped his head to one side, stretching his neck.

“What would she do if her connection with the family was exposed?”

Jacob turned an exhausted glare on him. “Now you’re cheating.” He exhaled. “There isn’t a psychological interview for practicing law. It’s a lot more academic than profiling.”

“Not for clients.” Daniel shifted in his chair. “It’s personal for clients. Really personal. They need to connect with their attorney, they have to trust her. Right? So what would she do if suddenly that got around, and all her clients and potential clients learned she was part of the
Cougars and Cold Ones
family?”