Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 16: Part Three

       Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The office was quiet after Twilight's patient left and the clock was suddenly louder than all of his thoughts.

How many days had it been? How many hours, minutes, seconds? It seemed to have been an age since Twilight requested Franky to look into the Dempewolfes and he was itching to act on this bit of intel before he even had it.

And so, he had been at the school. Watching Anya. He'd been on missions. He had been here, being a psychiatrist. Keeping up appearances and slowly driving himself crazy with anticipation.

How long did it take to find one piece of information? Franky was decent at his job, how deep did he have to dig for this?

Twilight scratched notes into his notepad as after thoughts about his patient surfaced.

He glanced at the phone.

Looked back to his notepad.

Twilight was an excellent spy. He was a master spy. He was perfectly patient, happy to plan and ruminate and think and prepare—

Why the heck hadn't Franky called yet?! Didn't he know how important this was?! This was about Donovan Desmond. The biggest threat to all of Berlint and world peace!

No, no, no. Twilight chuckled lightly to himself and shook the thoughts from his head as if they were but an insignificant fly buzzing around his ears.

No, no. This was fine. Franky was doing his job. Twilight could wait if it meant securing—

Riiiiing.

Thunk. Twilight's chair fell backwards as he leapt for the phone.

"Franky?"

". . . Yeah. Loid? Is something wrong?"

"What? Of course not, why?"

"Oh, nothin' I guess, you just sound a little—"

"Did you find anything?"

Franky's silence on the other end spoke volumes. "Yeah."

"I'll be right over."

———————

Twilight sauntered casually down the street with his hands stuffed in his overcoat pockets, appearing deceivingly unprepared for any sort of sudden attack. With the attempts on the Forger's lives lately, he was on high alert whenever he stepped outside. Or when he was at home. Or at work. Or watching Anya. Or on an outing. Or driving, eating, sleeping, cooking, thinking, reading, walking, or talking. It wouldn't do to get too engrossed in any one thing and be taken by surprise.

He pulled down on the rim of his hat against the breeze trying to fly it off his head and glanced surreptitiously into dark corners and discreet ally's that blended with the shadows. With innocence plastered on his features, he lifted his face to the sky, enjoying the blueness of the sky while taking a scan of the rooftops.

Twilight nodded to Franky in greeting as he approached his booth.

Franky clicked his tongue. "If I looked half as good as you walking down the street, I'd be married by now."

"Franky." Twilight prodded. He didn't have time for this. Or rather he didn't want to have time for this.

"Yeah, yeah." Franky covertly peeked around and procured one single sheet of paper. He placed it on the counter.

"What is this?" Twilight picked it up and noted Franky's handwritten work divided into two columns.

On the left was a list of names, and on the right, a list of dates.

All the names were Dempewolfes.

Donovan was at the top.

"For the past forty years, Dempewolfes have been going missing. Donovan Dempewolfe is the most recent. Apparently he was around twelve." Franky reached over and tapped the date corresponding to his name.

Twilight wasn't sure what to make of this. What was this even supposed to mean? "Is someone targeting the Dempewolfes or. . ." No. That wasn't it at all. Donovan—" They're leaving on their own. And changing their identities."

Franky nodded. "That's what I think too."

Twilight mulled on this. What reason could they possibly have for this? One or two family members might be reasonable—being cut off from the family or leaving to make a new life for themselves, but thirteen? And how could Donovan possibly integrate into the Desmonds so seamlessly if there wasn't more to it? There were no records that Donovan Desmond was adopted.

"What else did you find?"

Franky sighed deep through his nose, thinking. "Not much. The Dempewolfes are spread all around the country and they all seem like pretty typical families. Just. . ." He shook his head. "Average joes." He shrugged.

"That can't be right." Twilight looked up at him.

Another shrug from Franky.

"And what about Donovan Desmond?" Twilight asked.

"Right. Well. Turns out, he was abroad during his childhood and came home years later. When he was around twelve."

"Oh. . ." Twilight understood. "I see.

But that still didn't explain why. Why he would leave his family at the age of twelve to become a Desmond, or why his family would let him. Was it just to become a politician? Did Donovan choose the Desmonds specifically or would any high status family have worked? And why did the Desmonds accept him into their family without records of an adoption and lie about his origins?

Twilight would have to do some more digging. He sighed and folded the paper, pocketing it. "Thanks Franky. Let me know if you find anything else."

"Don't I always?" He answered glibly.

Twilight ignored his tone and turned to leave.