fandomtownies | Empire Records and Bidet: [4/18]

Nadia had agreed to fill Marty in on some of the things he'd missed in the last two weeks today while he was working, so once she was done with classes and such, she headed on over to Empire.

He would have to be playing that "cat getting kicked" music again, wouldn't he.

[ooc: sloooooooooow play? I'm to be packing and shopping and laundrying and such this afternoon before booking it on up to PA for business. (I got a rented PT Cruiser!)]

"Hey Nadia," Marty said with a wave as he turned down the music. "How do you like my choice of music?"

"Hey Marty, it . . . ." Nadia made a face. "Still sounds to me like someone doing something very, very wrong with cats."

"That's a pretty accurate description," Marty agreed. "But the bass line is pretty catchy."

Marty leaned back on the counter and started to sort through some of the new music shipment that had just come in.

"So... what happened to you after the whole thing we did here the other night? You looked pretty uncomfortable talking about it last night."

Nadia sighed and cast a glance around the store. Seeing that she was the only customer about, she finally just shrugged. It wasn't like most of the folks at school hadn't heard hints about what had been happening to her on the radio already, anyway.

"Remember when I mentioned that I thought I knew someone I could stay with until everything blew over? He turned out to . . . not be such a great person." She frowned. "Sort of. It's actually kind of complicated."

Marty frowned. "What happened?"

Nadia looked down and rubbed at the inside of her arm. "He, um, he drugged me." There. Keep it simple.

"I'm okay, now, though."

Marty let off a stream of curse words and got a scary look in his eye. "Where is this fucker?"

Nadia's head snapped up at the curse words and smiled ever so slightly and ironically. "No idea. And if I did, I wouldn't tell you. He kept referring to his 'connections', which, I think, might go a bit further than yours do."

Marty cocked an eyebrow at that. "Who was this guy? A spook?"

"Spook?" Nadia shook her head. "He said he used to work for the CIA before going freelance." She paused, took a deep breath, then continued. "He also said he was my father."

"Spook is a slang term for spy," Marty explained after letting out a long whistle. "And your dad drugged you? That doesn't say much in the paternal department."

"Yeah, well, like I said. It's complicated. It turns out that, like a lot of people at Fandom, I'm actually about three feet to the left of 'normal'."

"What exactly... I mean why did he do that to you?"

And, well, that was the 64000 dollar question wasn't it. "You know how Angela is actually from 1996? I think he was . . . I don't know, from some time in the future. He had already met me, but I didn't know him. He said that I . . . the future me . . . had gotten . . . hurt? And that it was only by drugging me that he could find out how to fix her."

Marty shook his head. "If that guy ever comes back, you let me know. I don't care what kind of connections this guy has."

Nadia shuddered. "If he ever comes back, you'll know by the fact that I'll be either gone somewhere far, far away, or be hiding under my bed. Don't worry."

"I'll always worry about you Santos," Marty said trying to lighten the conversation with a little humor. "Someone has to watch your back. Might as well be me, right?"

Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Between you and Walter I might as well have an army."

"Yep. While he's serving your enemies tea? I'll be calling their voice mail and leaving offers of 'Ferret Sex'."

That got a full-on grin. "My enemies are quaking in fear already. If they're not planning to show up at your dorm room in lingerie, anyway."

Parker's not looking forward to this conversation at all. But maybe Marty can help, or have some kind of useful suggestion. At the very least, it'll take any pressure not to talk about it off of Angela.

"Hey. You busy?" She blinks around her. "And what the hell is this?"

"Not really busy at the moment, just making sure the button pile is well stocked," Marty said walking out from behind the counter. "And the music is from another planet. Literally. I'm not sure which one. So what was the big deal with going to Delaware the other week? I was so sure that you were just a 'Jersey Girl' in disguise."

"If only you weren't wrong. That might actually be easier." Parker squinted at the speakers, then decided that no one was getting through the opera. "I asked the Library Aides to go with me to Delaware to sort through some stuff of my mother's. Last week was the seven-year anniversary of her death." Parker paused for a second. "Everyone told me it was a suicide, when it happened. Three weeks ago, a friend of mine found evidence it was murder."

Marty's face grew grim. "I'm sorry Parker, I had no idea. Do you have any idea who might have done it?"

"Specifically, as in pulling the trigger, no. I do have a general idea of who might have ordered it done." Parker took a breath. "We found information at the summer house in Delaware that led to a safety deposit box that had medical records of my mother's from the year before she died. She'd been beaten, badly. I remembered it happening later... But it also lead to a place she used to stay in Maine, and things she had stored there. Which is where it gets complicated."

She shook her head, then braced herself for the next part. "Please believe I had no idea about any of this beyond the fact that she didn't shoot herself before I invited Angela and the others on the trip. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked them along."

Marty frowned a little at that. "Coming from a guy who just endangered some of his friends and family members because of my past? I don't have room to judge you on that Parker. What did you find in Maine?"

"Thanks, Marty." Parker sighed. "We found fake birth certificates. Photos. A ton of information. Evidently, my mom was involved in getting kids out of bad situations, making new fake identities for them, then placing them with new families." She pushed her hair out of her face. "It seems pretty likely that's why she was killed."

Marty shivered a little and then shook it off, concentrating on what Parker just said.

"So you have some information on the kids involved and the situations they were in before she was killed? And you think either one of the parents or even may be one of the kids might be the murderer?"

Marty tapped his fingers on the counter and rubbed his fingers through his hair. "I'm not sure how much I can help here. If it was a hired killer or related to some government agency I might be able to have my friend Marcella check into some sources who were around back then, but I'm betting you've either had Jarod or Broots check into that already."

Parker looked disturbed. "I hadn't considered that it might be one of the kids, but... I think there is one possibility." She shuddered. "He'd be about sixteen or seventeen now, and -- I met him once. Kyle was disturbing at ten, God knows what he's like these days. The parents-- maybe? But then again, maybe not." She paused, studying Marty. "Jarod was one of the kids she was trying to save. We found a photo of our mothers together, we had no idea they knew each other. He's still looking for them."

"Jarod's checking. Broots knows nothing, and I want to keep it that way. He's good at what he does, but he's on the FBI radar and spooks easily." She took a deep breath. "There's a man in Blue Cove, who should know something. But Jarod made me promise not to go after him. Not yet, anyway."

"Blue Cove? I'm not familiar with that place," Marty responded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not yet. But-- some of the kids my mom tried to get out might still be in those situations." Angelo. The other Pretenders. "We might need the help of someone with your training to get them out, if we find out they're in immediate danger. Would you be willing to help with that? The guy who got us the security tapes that show my mother's death is keeping an eye on a couple situations." Parker clenched her hands, feeling grim. "I hate to think she died to protect kids, and people are still getting away with this."

Marty shivered a little. Apparently the thought of kids being in a "bad situation" hits a little too close to home for him.

"Yeah. Count me in."

Parker relaxed, and sighed. "Thanks. With so many of the heavier hitters graduating soon, this is going to get harder if we have to do some kind of covert operation. It's a relief to know you'd help. You might want to talk to Jarod if you want more details about some of these kids, and our source. He knows more about it than I do." Her lips thinned. "I just wish my mom could've gotten him out of where he was before she died. But at least he's not there now."

Marty blinked a few times at that. "Jarod was one of the kids? He never told me anything like that. He seemed pretty guarded about his life before fandom, so I never pushed the topic before."

Parker looked away. "Yeah. He was. He just got out of there in November. A mutual friend of ours, an older guy we've known a long time-- he managed to fix it so his foster parents don't know where he is. Jarod's 18, they have no legal right to be looking for him, but they still are." She bit her lower lip, then blurted, "He's looking for his real parents. If any of your contacts *could* help on that, I know he'd appreciate it. But we really don't have any information on them, aside from one photo. Jarod has it up on a masked website."

Marty nodded. "Marcella can find a needle in a haystack in Paraguay on an overcast day blindfolded. You want me to go talk with him sometime about it?"

"Please? He's great at hacking, but he doesn't have the real-world contacts. I'll warn him that I told you about it." She smiled, finally. "That's about it, I guess." Without bringing the Centre into it, anyway. "We're going to keep looking for info, but carefully. Whoever did this got away with murder for seven years. Alerting them that we're onto them would be a very, very bad idea."

"Alerting *them*?" Marty said with a cocked eyebrow. "As opposed to just to one person? Or is there something you are leaving out of this conversation?"

Parker looked bleak. "I don't know who got paid off, or frightened, but Marty-- my mother was shot four times. And they classified it as a suicide. And no one's ever asked any questions." She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "It can't be just one person. Even if all they did was lose the paperwork and bury her too quickly, it goes beyond one shooter and one person telling them to pull the trigger."

"A cover up like this either takes money, multiple people or both," Marty said thoughtfully. "Write or send me all the details you know and I'll have Marcella get to work. Don't worry, she's very discreet."

It couldn't hurt, to have the other end of the string, and know who the Centre paid off outside its walls. "Don't let her risk anything. I have an idea of the guy who organized it, and he's one scary bastard. But the more evidence against him, the better."

"She's already in hiding because of what I used to do," Marty said with a grim look. "I'm not going to let her risk her safety for anything. Don't worry. She'll know what to do."

"Cool." Parker rubbed her face, then sighed. "Thanks for listening, Marty. And for your help. Talk to Jarod, he can tell you more, probably." She checked her watch. "I should get going, I've got class in a bit. Call me if.. . well, if you hear anything."

"I'll do that."

Empire Records and Bidet: [4/18]

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