(2018-10-23) Calvin's Case
Calvin stops by Grey Investigations with the details of his case for Vic.
Players:
calvin..vic..

Grey Investigations seems willing to make appointments at just about any hour of the day or night. That's because Vic hates trying to sleep. So she booked a slot for Calvin to come in with the information about his possible paternity case well after normal business hours. The gate is pulled across the door for security, but there is a buzzer that can be pressed to alert the owner to his presence.

The woman is settled in behind her desk, pecking away at the keys of her slim lap top. It's about the only item in the entire office that looks new-ish. She's in a black tee with a witty blurb on it, and jeans. Seems she also doesn't dress up special for clients. In contrast to the slivers of grey in her hair, her nails are painted a metallic black. The tattoos on her right forearm are visible.

*

Calvin would say he didn't need a special time but wound up appreciating it. He explains as soon as he's buzzed in. He wearing dark clothes with a hoodie, ballcap, and aviator shades. "I have a photog!" He exclaims. "I mean, can't I just be a has-been in peace!?" He drops into a seat and lays a folder on the desk. It's thin. "That's what my lawyer managed to obtain."

*

Vic gets up at the sound of the buzzer and rounds her desk to head for the door. She has motorcycle boots on, which probably means that battered old 1970 Triumph Bonneville in the alley behind the place is hers. She pulls a ring of keys off her belt and undoes several door locks, then the one on the gate, before sliding it open and giving Calvin a small smile. She looks like it makes her face hurt; as if she's not used to doing it. "Cal, come on in. There's coffee in the corner over there, but nothing fancy I'm afraid," she admits as she accepts the folder. She locks up again after he enters, closes the blinds to give them some privacy, and heads back to her desk. She has a coffee mug on it, ceramic rather than the paper cups on the table with the stained Mr. Coffee. There's also a faint whiff of whiskey mixed into her java.

*

It's just after Calvin's spiel that he realizes that there's coffee. He is quick to leap up abd makes a black cup of joe with a heaping helping of sugar. "My lawyer had his investgator on it but that's all he managed to get. His wife went into premature labor." He says with a sigh.

The file contains the most basic information about a 26 year old woman named Jenna Bethal. She has a five year old son named Flynn Bethal. No father is named the birth certificate. She's originally from Austin, Texas but recently relocated to Denver.

Blah, blah blah, what is of note is her credit score. It's in the tank. She owes everyone.

*

Vic takes a sip from her mug, dark eyes scanning over the paperwork in the file. "No photos, no school records. I'll work on getting those of the kid. I'll take a trip up to Denver, do some digging, follow her around a bit. She'll have talked to someone other than her lawyer; someone smart enough to remind her she had a fling with you back in the day, Cal," she notes, glancing up to meet his eyes briefly. "Birth certificates are forged pretty easily, especially if she's moved around in Austin and Denver, but school records, vaccinations and the like aren't easily faked. And someone she's friends with knows the story. I'll find them."

*

Calvin sits back down as Vic speaks. He breathes out a great sigh of relief. He seems to feel a bit safer as he begins to remove the layers covering his head and face. Avis, Hood. "Is this…I don't want to be a total fucking scumbag but—it's not just the music money." He begins. "I'm sole heir to the Shay and Starkweather assets. It's the fucked up thing about being the only child of only children." He sighs. "Tangent. The point is…that's all public knowledge like the rest of my fucking life and I really don't want this…long weekend fling to have a direct tap into that. If that makes me the asshole, so be it." He pauses, sips his coffee. "Sub-tangent. Am I the asshole for requesting pictures of her son? I mean…I have strong features." Beat. "Under all this." He gestures to his beard.

*

"You're not being an asshole at all. She's not talking about sharing custody or letting your alleged son get to know you. She is just asking for money, and that's just blackmail. The only asshole here is," she glances at the file again, "Jenna Bethal." She smirks a bit and sets the page down. "And if this is your kid, she's double the asshole for not letting you know for five fucking years." Her tee makes sense now. It states,

"I Know I Swear A Lot
1. I Am Very Sorry
2. I'll Try To Be Good
3. 1 & 2 Are Lies
4. You can Fuck Off."

*

"Okay, good…I just needed to hear it from someone else." Calvin says. "I-I'll be honest. I…don't really want a kid. I don't have it all together, you know? I'm in transition. No kid needs to come into my life right now. Maybe later…with the right woman but…" He just shakes his head. "All I know is this chick is probably a liar and I don't need any more scandal in my life."

*

"Even if he is your kid, all you need to do is pay back support, Cal. I'm pretty sure you're good for that, and you aren't at any legal fault, since she refused to notify you of the pregnancy or the birth, or anything until now," Vic points out. "So other than the scandal, which I promise can be turned on her to make her seem like a horrible gold digger or someone who kept a man from knowing his own kid, I don't see too many potholes on your road to being left in peace. I can head up there in a day or two and get to work." She looks over at him with a sad smile. "Evan and I had talked kids, but I didn't want them until after I made detective, so one of us wouldn't be on the streets daily getting shot at." She shakes her head and takes a deeper sip of her whiskey-coffee. "After he died I just," she headshakes. "Well let's just say I'm pretty sure I've got cobwebs in all aspects of dating." At least of what she remembers.

*

Calvin leans in. "My last ex, Lana Mars, left me to die of an overdose in the bathroom in Berlin." He grins. Lana Mars was a 22 year old Instagram model turned reality star. "I'm not sure I want to ever date again. As for kids? I wanted them sometimes. Hindsight is clear enough to see that it would have been an awful idea." He looks at his watch. Apple watch. Typical. "I should get out of here. I've been…well, I call it creative overdrive. I need to get back in front of the piano." He's standing and covering back up as he speaks. "I'm seriously thinking about an EP but…gotta clear this up first. Thanks, Vic. I appreciate it."

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