+18 - eps 28-32 - On the sixth installment of the Blackbird series, Cassidy sends Gillian and her team with Brock and Russel to Tampa, Florida, to look into the death of a girl while winter storm Jonas beats the East Coast. But this seemingly ordina...
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Russell, Ron, Aldana and Fred came to the house exhausted, yet happy they'd gotten Bennett and Poole to confess. They were discussing whether having a coffee or going straight to bed, when they noticed most of the lights were on at the ground floor. Even so, the house was oddly quiet. Until they heard the quick murmur of typing from the 101.
They headed there, curious, to find Tanya, Gillian and Brock at the table.
Gillian looked up from her tablet with a mild smile. "Hey, lads, great job."
"Slumber party?" asked Fred, walking in.
"I'm taking a literal rain check," said Ron from the door. "Night, guys."
"Me too..." Fred trailed off, seeing the new information pinned to the board. "Closing in on the baby?"
"Trying to," replied Gillian. "We've found enough to try the other way around it. But you lads go to sleep. We can tell you about it in the morning."
"Make it noon," said Fred, strolling out.
Gillian's words seemed to hook Aldana to the board.
"I'm going to bed, babe," Russell said to her.
"Night..." she replied, eyes moving over the board.
He scoffed, kissed her cheek and winked at Gillian. A moment later he was gone.
Brock didn't bother to pay attention to the talk around him. Gillian had given him access to Irene's 'official' accounts, and he was busy comparing them on one tablet with the alternate accounts on another.
Gillian refilled her mug from the thermos bottle and stood up to give it to Aldana by the board.
"Thanks," murmured Aldana, accepting the mug. "You're trying to find the baby in Tampa's records."
"Yeah. Somewhere in this town, a woman who wasn't pregnant inscribed a newborn as her own."
"Lydia Ross," said Tanya behind them.
They spun around as Brock looked up. Tanya turned the TV on to show them a Facebook bio. The profile picture was a young couple holding a baby that looked only a couple of weeks old.
"Lydia and Aaron Ross with their just-adopted son, Daryl," said Tanya. "They were listed in several adoption agencies over the last three years, but dropped all waiting lists in August."
The girl showed them a post from mid-August. It was a picture of the couple kissing with bright smiles and it read, 'It's the happiest day of our lives! Today we got confirmation about our son! He's coming for the Holidays!'
Next, Tanya showed them a whole photo album about the preparations at the nursery—the cradle, the wallpaper, the buckets of soft toys. On December 29th, Lydia Ross posted another picture of her and her husband toasting with champagne glasses. 'Welcome, Daryl! Our son was born today and we can't wait to meet him and bring him home!'
Tanya scrolled to a post from New Year's Eve. It was Richmond's weather report. 'So happy it's not cold for Daryl!'
"Tell me they're local," said Gillian.
"Yep."
"You sure it's them?" asked Brock.
"I think they qualify, sir," Tanya replied. "They're a Tampa couple who adopted a boy from Richmond born on December 29th."
"Enough for me to pay them a visit," said Gillian. "Tomorrow morning, of course."
"Sounds fair. Night," said Aldana, and left.
"Turn it all off and let's go to bed, T," said Gillian.
She tried to keep her eyes away from Brock, or they'd turn her words into an invitation she didn't dare to make—or she might need a priest and a golden band in the morning, two things she'd sworn to keep out of her life for good fifteen years ago.
Brock would've liked to say, "Good idea," and stretch out his hand to take hers and lead her upstairs. Instead, he stood up with one of the tablets and just said, "Good night."
"Night, sir," Gillian and Tanya replied.
He left the room without looking back and commanded himself upstairs, into his room and back to bed. He turned off the lamp with a heartfelt sigh. He could only hope he wouldn't remember any of the embarrassing dreams he was bound to have as soon as he fell asleep.
At the 101, Tanya watched him walk out and shook her head with a mild smile. "What's with those pajamas?" she murmured.
Gillian shrugged. "He can't sleep in his suit, can he."
"Guess so... He looks good in them, though. I mean, classy."
"Yeah..." Bet he looks even better outta them. "Night, T."
