Music City (22 page)

“That’s what I grew up with too, but it sure seems early now.” Brandy replied. “Are you sure you don’t mind having supper with my folks? We could do
it some other time, if you want.”

“No, not at all. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

Brandy didn’t say anything in response, but smiled at the thought of bringing Tracy home to meet her parents. She had certainly had her share of dates, but no one that she particularly wanted to introduce to her folks. Tracy was just so easy to be with. There were things about him that reminded her of her father. And she dearly loved and respected her Daddy. She knew they were going to hit it off.

“Momma, Daddy, this is my friend I told you about, Tracy Shepard. Tracy, these are my parents,
Guy and Greta Anders.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, sir.” Tracy said as he nervously greeted Brandy’s father. “It’s nice to meet you
, too, Miss Anders.”

Tracy wasn’t short, by any means, but
Guy Anders towered over him. He must have been six foot five in bare feet. Tracy felt like a child, at six feet tall, standing next to him.

Greta
Anders was nearly as tall as Tracy and very pleasant. “Well, come on in here and sit down. Supper's just about ready. You want a glass of tea while I put the food out, Tracy?”

“Tea would be nice Miss Anders, thank you.” Tracy immediately felt comfortable with her.

Brandy hugged her father and Tracy noticed that the hug was not far above the man’s waist. Brandy truly looked like a child next to him. His warm smile and loving embrace told him that Guy Anders was not as intimidating as he originally seemed. It was the protective father that Tracy first saw.

What Tracy also noticed was that there seemed to be no family resemblance between Brandy and either of her parents. He studied all their faces and body structure and found no similarities. He decided his imagination was just being overactive, what with all the baby switching talk around the office.
  He knew enough to know that genetics was a complicated science and one he knew little of.

“So, have you been too busy to come by and see your old man? It’s been what, three weeks since you came by and more than a month since you’ve eaten supper with us,”
Guy chided his daughter, “and where’s that Mila? I haven’t seen her in a month of Sundays.”

“Oh she’s got more going on than I do. She’s been singing a lot lately and of course she’s still going to school. She keeps me busy just watching her schedule for her and finding dresses for her to wear. Do you remember, a few weeks ago I told you about her singing at a party at Shelly Shepard’s house? Well that’s where Tracy and I met,” Brandy murmured.

“Is that a fact? So, tell me Tracy, how did you wrangle an invite to a fancy party at Shelly Shepard’s house?”

Tracy looked a little embarrassed and was about to speak when
Greta spoke up. “Didn’t you say your name was Tracy Shepard? Are you related to Shelly?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tracy answered. “She’s my
Momma.”

“Well, Shelly certainly raised a respectful young man. I bet she’s quite proud of you.”
Greta beamed.

“Thank you for saying so, I’ll be sure to tell her that.”

“Alright, supper’s ready. We’re having fried chicken, boiled potatoes, cornbread, butter beans and greens. I hope you like collard greens Tracy. The next door neighbor gave us a mess of ‘em this afternoon and they just aren’t as good if you don’t eat them right away.”

“I love
collard greens, Miss Anders. My mouth’s been watering since we came in the door.”

Guy spoke up, “I’ve
smelled them for over an hour, my stomach is growling.” He said as he rubbed his middle.

“You didn’t cook the
potatoes in there with them, did you Momma?” Brandy frowned.

“No honey, I cooked them on the side. I know you hate ‘em.”

“You don’t like the greens Brandy?” Tracy asked. “I guess that leaves more for me and your Daddy, huh?”

“I
suppose it does,” Guy answered smiling. He had quickly decided that Brandy’s friend was probably okay.

Alex, Derek and Tracy were having a late-morning cup of coffee and discussing their previous evening when the sound of the phone ringing startled all of them.

“Music City Investigations, Alex Howard speaking.” Alex answered
quickly.

“Detective Howard, this is Lieutenant Kirk at the Raleigh P.D. I understand you’ve been representing the Maye Harris family.”

“Yes, we are.” Alex responded.

“You probably don’t remember me, but I was a detective on a murder case back w
hen I was with the Annapolis police department a dozen years ago. We met then. You were on the FBI team that took over that investigation. Turned out to be some unsolved serial murders… but anyway, that’s not what I called you about.”

He continued without pausing, “We have the personal effects of Maye Harris. Since your agency represents the family, we can send them to your office, or if you like, I can send them directly to deceased’s family.”

Alex, wishing to keep Shelly’s contact information confidential said, “Why don’t you send them to the office. I’ll make certain that the family gets them.”

“I’m happy to, Mr. Howard, just give me your address. And if you’re ever up our way again, stop by. I’d love to chat with you sometime.”

The following day, the parcel deliveryman came in with a large box. “Delivery for Alex Howard.” He stated. Alex nodded. “Sign here please.”

Alex signed for the package and noticed it was from Lieutenant Kirk. “He must have sent that as soon as we got off the phone yesterday. These are the
personal effects of Maye Taylor, wow, sad to think that everything fits inside a box.  I guess she didn’t have much, rented apartment, cheap furniture... evidently this was all they found of any ‘value’.”

“Do you think we should look through it before we give it to Mom
ma?” Tracy asked.

“Since you’re family, Tracy, I think it’s perfectly fine. You may see things in here that could stir up some unwanted emotions, though. You realize that, don’t you?” Alex asked.

“I’m sure I can handle it.” Tracy assured him.

The box contained mostly pictures and some cheap jewelry. There
was the photo album that had several newspaper clippings of Shelly as she ascended in her career. There was a snapshot of Shelly during one of her performances with a handwritten date on the back that read 4-15-89. At the bottom of the box there was a tattered red, notebook sized book. On the front, in all capital letters, there was the word ‘DIARY’.

Derek opened the
diary to see what almost appeared to be code written on each line. The first line said ‘Morgan,’ then a line with an arrow on each end, and ‘Silverman’, then the date May 15, 1969. The next lines continued in this fashion, as they flipped through the book the other names were the same, two names with a line drawn between. ‘Jefferson’ and ‘Keenan’ July 7, 1970. ‘McConnell’ and ‘Brooke’ August 11, 1970. This format repeated on each line, on every page, and the diary was full.

“Check this out.” Derek said
in amazement. “What do you make of this?”

“
Oh no, you don’t think this could this be more baby swaps do you?” Tracy asked, feeling sick.

“If it is, she certainly lied to
us
, big time.” Alex offered. “There are literally hundreds of names in here… and you were worried that you wouldn’t be a good detective, Tracy. You picked up on that right away.”

Derek quickly thumbed to the back of the notebook. The dates went all the way to 1989. If what they suspected was true, Maye had done her dirty deeds over a twenty year period and
she had
not
just swapped her own children. This could be devastating for an untold number of families.

As Derek and Alex discussed how to proceed, Tracy poured over the book, looking for any details that might show a pattern or an anomaly. After a few moments of looking, he realized he was looking for Brandy’s name amongst the many. Somehow, he just couldn’t shake the stark differences
in appearance, between Brandy and her parents.

Alex, was thinking, hard. His experience with the FBI was shooting up red flags with every consecutive thought running through his mind. He knew this situation had the potential for disaster—wide spread disaster, for a lot of people. It wasn’t just a case of getting everyone together and sorting out the families per the birth records. They were families, and they still are families, in spite of what Maye’s book recorded. With this information, they could become broken families.
Along with their hurt and loss—anger, rage and lawsuits all loomed in the picture. Lawsuits that would destroy that hospital.

“Hey, guys, let’s think about this for a while,” Alex offered, “and maybe get together with Shelly and Dorothy for their feelings about this. We have absolutely no proof that this book of births, or whatever it is, means what we think it does. Tracy, see if your Mom and Dorothy can get together with us this evening or tomorrow morning. Maybe more minds can find a clear solution.”

Tracy already had the phone in his hand, dialing his Momma.

“Hi, Tracy, are you okay?” Shelly spoke into the phone, “How is
your day going?”

“Well, Momma...” Tracy proffered, “we need to talk, all of us, including Dorothy and it needs to be soon.”

“Sounds serious. How about breakfast out at the farm tomorrow around ten? We’ll eat and then talk. Does that sound okay?”

“It sounds great.” Tracy answered.

“Okay, see you then.” Shelly’s response sounded flippant, but to Tracy, it meant his mother wasn’t worried.

Everyone arrived within ten minutes of each other the next morning. The only serious faces were Derek, Alex and Tracy. The three of them carried the heavy burden of their knowledge, while the others, unaware of the magnitude of the problem, were lighthearted. The table where they sat was small enough that the six of them could eat and talk in an intimate way, to deal with this very intimate situation.

Alex tried to assemble some order and decorum out of the situation.

“Okay, so basically the police handed over all of Maye’s private possessions, which were few. One of the possessions was a book, a diary actually, that had many names recorded in it. We do not know for sure what the names mean, we can only speculate at this point in time. The bomb is that it covers a period of over twenty years; there could be hundreds of switched babies, or there could be none, but right now, we just don’t know. We have no proof of what that book actually means.”

The air in the room was still. A breath would have appeared as a roar in the silence.

“Oh my word,” Shelly remarked, “This could be terrible. How could she possibly do this? I really hoped this would end with our family.”

Tracy spoke up. “Mila’s r
oommate, Brandy, is one of them I think, I’m pretty sure I saw her name in the book.”

“Aw, Tracy, that’s just awful,” Vani commented, coming over and putting her arm on Tracy’s shoulder, “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes, Vani. I do. She adores her parents and they her, this would devastate all of them to find this out. Can we keep this from them? Morally?”

Alex resumed his train of thought, “
We need to take a step back and take a look at this from every angle.”  He linked his fingers behind his head as he leaned back.  “I mean, what right do we have to walk into someone’s life and drop a bombshell like this on them?”  He continued, “Just say, oh, by the way, your parents?  They aren’t your parents, your cousins, your siblings?  Nope, not them either, your life as you know it, as you’ve known it your entire life, well, sorry but it’s a lie.” 

Derek leaned forward toward the group, “
Can we, with absolute certainty be positively sure that Maye really did switch those babies? Or is that diary simply the fantasy of a lifelong alcoholic with illusions of power and control?”

Shelly and Dorothy
just looked around while the others were speaking, and occasionally they looked at each other.  Shelly spoke up, “Sometimes, we have to endure the family we are given and other times we get to choose for ourselves. Dorothy and I have had both, and we accept it.”

As she stood up, Shelly walked over to the photo of her husband, the man who helped her find her sense of self and family. She held the framed photo close to her. “Trent took me as I was and gave me my family. Dorothy found us, and we have chosen to be family, this was our choice. Who are we to interfere in the lives of the others? Some will be successful and some won’t be, just as in all families. If we walk in and tell them they might be in the wrong family since birth, it will cause a lot of pain, disruption, anger and loss. Do we have the right to do that, just on our own suspicions?”

“But,” Tracy argued, “I’m sure Brandy is on that list. She is so different from her parents, she looks completely different from either of them.”