In Search For Life, Part III

Participants:

faye_icon.gif rebecca_icon.gif

Scene Title In Search For Life, Part III
Synopsis Rebecca's investigation leads her to Cliffside.
Date January 27, 2010

The long hallways catering to the loft apartments could seem almost cold and unwelcoming in the winter weather. There seems to have been some recent tagging inside, to compliment the tagging on the outside, a line of spray paint that curves and twists, and a few smaller slashes that compliment it. It's not the most attractive or telling kind of tag, but at least it's not over done. The hallway itself could be a lot warmer, but the target loft doesn't take long to find.

302.

Hazy afternoon light finds it's way through a window in the stairwell that leads down to the other floors. It took research, but not a great deal of digging to find what happened to Faye Crawford. Helped she kept her name. Helped that her father remained an officer in the US Coast Guard. Helped that she joined up as well, until a retirement a few years ago. She even showed up on the Evolved Registry. And based on research, she doesn't work today.

And the research is correct. But that didn't mean she stayed in. A bag of groceries gets carried up to the top floor of the apartment from the stairwell, carefully carried as she moves through the hall to her apartment, shuffling the bag so she can get her keys out. She pays little mind to people in the hallway, though she could probably use the help.

The second most important piece of information that you could ever obtain is someone's name. With someone's name, unless they're John Smith, you can narrow your search down dramatically. The only bit that could narrow you down even farther is someone's social security number. Lucky for Becca, the number of Faye Crawfords in the state of New York was exactly two. The first was rather easy to rule out, considering the woman had just celebrated her 82nd birthday only days prior.

For three days, Rebecca staked out the second Faye Crawford, using the first two days to trace her to this apartment complex. The names were at one time listed next to doorbells at the front, but in light of increased security, they have been removed. Rebecca caught a break as Faye slipped from the apartment and walked down to the grocery store. The detective slips in behind her and approaches. "You look like you could use some help." The offer for assistance given, as Rebecca offers a warm, disarming smile. "May I?"

Hands carefully concealed by black gloves, the older woman seems surprised. And hesitant. Trusting people to hold groceries in this crime ridden part of the city might be difficult! But one lone woman doesn't seem as threatening as it could be, steadying worries. Somewhat. "Thank you," she says, voice more familiar than her face. It's been twenty one years since that moment she witnessed. A lot of the woman has changed. Faye's grown into her body and her face, the similar look mostly around the eyes and forehead.

With the groceries out of hand, she gets her key out and turns it much more easily than she could have while juggling the bag. "Are you a new neighbor? I heard that one of the lofts was opening up," she asks, politely as she puts the key away and reaches to take her groceries back.

Despite her knack for sneaking around in disguises, when it comes to one on one confrontation, Rebecca just doesn't have it in her to be dishonest. Even more so in a case such as this one. After the door is opened, the groceries are handed back to Faye. "I.. no. I mean, I'm not the one taking the apartment. I've actually come by intentionally to speak with you."

Rebecca has thought over exactly what she's going to say to the woman when she finally met her face to face, and yet all that seems to go out the window. "I've been hired to find you." She gives her nip a nervous bite, before continuing. "Your daughter is looking for you. She's hired me to find you." Typically, Rebecca might ask for some identification from the woman, but there is no doubt, standing before her that this is the same woman from her vision, only twenty one years older. She lifts a slim hand up motioning towards the door. "Can we talk?"

It's a funny thing how a person can expect to hear something for half their life and still not know how to react when it actually happens. The woman frowns visibly, looking toward the open door. Surprise? Definitely there in her eyes, but also another kind of tension. Apprehension. "Come on in," is the most Faye's able to say when she's recovered enough to speak, obviously trying to keep as much emotion out of her voice as possible.

Even if it shows itself in the change of tone to her voice from politeness to something else. Making her way inside, she walks across the primly decorated by simple loft apartment to the kitchen island, where she sets the groceries down and begins to put away the perishables. Going through the motions. Oddly enough she keeps her gloves on. "She should be in her twenties now." A statement more than a question.

"I'm certain you've seen pictures of her, if you read the paper at all." Of course, Rebecca has no clue how much about her Faye knows and how much she doesn't. The tabloids and social sections all talk about the socialite's exploits though they've diminished in recent months as the girl seems to have changed her ways. "Ms. Crawford, I was hired to find you for her. She wants to meet with you." Rebecca's eyes take in her surroundings, the apartment of the woman she speaks with.

"I can't make you meet with her, but I can pass on any message you might have for her." Her purse is slung over her shoulder, as she pulls out a photo. "I have a picture here, if you'd like to see what she looks like." Rebecca's trying to make this as pleasant as possible for the woman who surely had no clue she'd ever see her daughter again.

A lot can be learned of a person from their apartment. There's pictures on the walls, in frames on tables. An older man who looks like the stern individual she saw in the dream included, but others as well. None like the one being offered, though…

For a moment, there's a visible worry that crosses her face, as Faye starts to think on most of the young women she might have heard about in the newspaper recently. Most of the stories aren't good stories… "I don't know much about my daughter," she says, shoving ice cream far back into the freezer, before turning to face the other woman. "I only know that she was adopted into a well-off family. I…" She hesitates, then moves away from the counter to reach for the picture. For a moment, her gloved hands seem to be shaking.

"What's her name?" she asks, still looking down at it.

"Peyton." Rebecca only offers the first name. When she's certain that Faye's shaking fingers have a good grasp on the photo, only then does she release it. It's a simple photo that Rebecca was able to print off from the Internet on photo paper. "It seems she considered this long and hard before she decided to try and find you. I'm sure she has quite a few questions." Rebecca isn't going to push the issue of visitation, but wants to be sure she doesn't leave before she has an answer one way or the other. Rebecca is hardly the pushy type. "Her family has taken really good care of her, from what I gather."

Rebecca turns enough to look over the pictures on the wall, as she lets Faye have a moment with the picture. She recognizes the man from her vision as Faye's father.

There's another set of photographs, of the same woman with a young boy rather than a daughter. Unmarried as she may be now there were some holes in public record, perhaps indicating she'd moved elsewhere for a time, and changed her name. But… Faye moves around to settle into one of her chairs at the small table in the kitchen. Small, only having a set of two chairs. Not many guests, most likely. "Peyton…" Dark hair falls into her face for a moment, and then she looks back.

The face does look familiar, but it may take skimming old newspapers to figure out where from. At least she has an idea where to look. "She wants to meet me?"

The detective nods, her own black hair swaying against her face. "I thought perhaps it might be best to exchange phone numbers. Then you two could discuss where to meet with each other, or even if you'll meet at all. She seems eager to find you." Rebecca smiles at that. It must be nice to have someone out there looking for you, wanting to know you.

"If you'll accept a phone call from her, I'd be more than happy to give it to her and she can make the first move." Rebecca reaches into her purse and pulls out a notepad. "If you are uncomfortable with that, I can just report to her that I've found you and you'd rather not have her make contact. It's really your decision, since she's already made hers."

'Well off' takes away one fear. The search isn't about money or something of the like. Not that she'd have much to give, even if it were. The apartment is sparce not just because she doesn't entertain much… The television is an old style one, nothing flat or LCD. The electronics look very much ten years old. At least she keeps it clean. "No— no, I'll meet her." She stands up, still carrying the picture around as she walks over to a desk. No computer at the desk, but a pad of paper and…

She stops as she reaches toward the pen. "You probably already have my cell phone number," she says, catching herself there.

Shaking her head, she waits for the number to be written. "I don't." Rebecca could have. Probably easily enough, but this is not just about her. It's about mother and daughter, so choices need to be in their hands. "If you write it out, I'll pass it along to her." Rebecca will be on the phone to Peyton as soon as she leaves the apartment.

Rebecca smiles. This feels good. This is why she does what she does. She thinks of something then, "Would you have a picture that I can pass on to her?"

A phone number is quickly scribbled onto the sheet of paper, and Faye glances around at the photographs. The few of them that are of her are also with someone else… But she says, "Just a moment," and disappears toward another room in the loft apartment, returning a few minutes later with a dusty picture in a frame. "It's an older one, but I don't get my picture taken that often." It's also one of the few where she's not in a uniform of some kind. The picture and the small note with her number are held out, and then…

She switches the other picture into another hand. "Do you mind if I hold on to this?" Though it's possible she can find other pictures… "I don't even know your name."

Duh. Nice going, Becca.

Rebecca takes the picture with one hand and slips it into her purse. She pulls out a card and offers it to to the woman. "Rebecca. Rebecca Nakano. My number is on the card, if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call. Peyton is my client, but I'll do what I can to help." She reaches up and tucks some loose hair behind her ear.

"Thank you, Rebecca," Faye says again, taking the card in her gloved hand. "This— well I guess I have Peyton to thank for it as much. Part of the adoption deal was that I couldn't know anything… Seems like so long ago." A whole lifetime for someone. "But that doesn't mean I didn't think about her often…" And now she has a name and a grown up face to put to the child she had to give up. "I'll give you a call if I need anything."

Rebecca smiles. She nods her head and walks towards the door. "I'm certain you'll hear from her very soon." She opens the door and lets herself out. As soon as the door closes behind her, she stops and leans against the wall in that hallway, her hand moving to her chest. She hadn't realized her heart was beating so fast. But, it's a good heartbeat. Whatever this is, it certainly feels good, helping people reunite.

She finally pushes away from the wall and walks down the stairs, pulling out her cell phone and calling Peyton, leaving a message on her voicemail. "I have some news. We need to meet."


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