Emery Ward

Professor. Lover of the past. In search of a piece of history. 1x1 account. Sideblog to The Metro Court

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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Emery nods her head in agreement with his statement.  Someone you trust by your side.  She hasn’t really had that in a long time.  It’s not an easy thing to give — her trust.  Someone broke it and she has spent years putting it back together.  She figures that someday she will wrap her head around giving it freely again.  For now, it is guarded.  “You know, I am going to say the same thing at finally breaking through the academic world.  Not glamorous, but worth it.  Also, not giving it up.”  With any luck she will be teaching classes before long and enjoying every second of it. 

“Now you know who to call for stakeouts.  The fun kind though.  Real Dan Brown DaVinci Code type stuff.  I don’t want to wait outside of some sleazy motel just to confirm that some guy is cheating.”  She makes a face.  It is not just the ick factor — the idea hits closer to home than she wants to think about.  So instead she focuses on how easily they will find what they need.  “I have faith in us as well.  A historian and a private investigator.  We are a superhero to nerds.”  She nods her head as if she has to convince him of that fact. 

“Sometimes you just need to roam academically to figure out just where you belong.”  She gives him a small smile, glad that his nephew figured it out.  She realizes that she is probably taking up his precious time so she shakes her head quickly to his question.  “No, no, I am good.  I appreciate you letting me tag along.”  She stands and gives him one last look.  “Tomorrow, 9am, library, brownies, coffee and books — so much fun!”

He may not know Emery very well, but if he’s learned anything about her, it’s her determination. It’s a trait that can get easily crushed during the rough patches life is known for throwing out, so he’s learned to appreciate it when he sees it. “Your students will be lucky to have you,” he tells her, his voice even as it is genuine. The world needs more teachers like her. If he had more of them when he was in high school, maybe he would have gone to college. Unlikely, but… maybe.

Curtis laughs quietly through her comparison. “Those aren’t nearly as common as I wish they were.” Though his last one was just earlier this year, when he and Laura accidentally found international criminal Cassandra Pierce. He almost launches into that story, figuring that if anyone was going to appreciate it, it would be Emery, but he restrains himself. He should be focusing on working her case, not telling her stories about his old ones. “That, or the subjects of a good crime thriller,” he jokes right back with her. His day had been going pretty badly before she showed up.

Which is a little fact he doesn’t dwell on for more than a few seconds. It quickly dissolves from the forefront of his mind when Emery stands, and he mindlessly follows her lead so he can walk her out. “Any time! It’s your case, after all. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do.” He’s here to assist, not to take the lead. Even so, her enthusiasm has him donning a big, bright smile. It’s been a while since he’s been around someone so spirited. “Doesn’t get much better than that, huh? I’ll see you there.”

THREAD COMPLETE

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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Curtis chuckles, appreciating her humor in humorless things. He knows that climbing the latter up to your dreams is supposed to be a challenge, but stuffing new people in service closets and piling work on their shoulders has never felt right in Curtis’ book. Funnily enough, his realization that what is normal doesn’t always mean it’s right was a big part of what pushed him into private investigation. He’s no longer pinned down by doing things by the book. He’s able to follow his own instincts and bend the rules when need be. “It’s always good to have someone you trust on your side, that’s for sure.” He could never be sure who he could trust when he was in law enforcement, but he’s made a lot of loyal friends since moving to Port Charles. “Sure ain’t glamorous though, you’re right about that.” He laughs again. “It is worth it, though. Wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

He gets stuck with a lot of boring jobs throughout the year. Cheating spouses, low tier corporate espionage, and rampant baseless paranoia is the norm, but sometimes he’ll get a really good case that makes it all worth it. And sometimes he’ll get smaller, more personal cases like Emery’s that remind him that he really is making a difference in people’s lives. It doesn’t get much better than that. “Coffee and brownies? Hell, I would’ve invited you along a long time ago if I knew that.” He’s just teasing her, and the grin on his face gives that away. “Between the two of us, we’ll find that journal in no time.” Curtis doesn’t know whether or not they’ll find it tomorrow, but he’s determined to follow the clues wherever they take him.

When he notices the blush that spreads across the apples of her cheeks, Curtis almost feels… bad. Or maybe not bad, but somewhere in the realm of strange. Does she think he’s flirting? He tries to push forward and not overthink it, because maybe a small part of him was flirting. “Man, that’s funny. My nephew was one of those college kids until he figured out what it was he wanted to do.” That, and Molly’s encouragement, really led T.J. down a path that Curtis couldn’t be prouder of. “But, uh — while you’re here, is there anything else I can help you with?”

Emery nods her head in agreement with his statement.  Someone you trust by your side.  She hasn’t really had that in a long time.  It’s not an easy thing to give --- her trust.  Someone broke it and she has spent years putting it back together.  She figures that someday she will wrap her head around giving it freely again.  For now, it is guarded.  “You know, I am going to say the same thing at finally breaking through the academic world.  Not glamorous, but worth it.  Also, not giving it up.”  With any luck she will be teaching classes before long and enjoying every second of it. 

“Now you know who to call for stakeouts.  The fun kind though.  Real Dan Brown DaVinci Code type stuff.  I don’t want to wait outside of some sleazy motel just to confirm that some guy is cheating.”  She makes a face.  It is not just the ick factor --- the idea hits closer to home than she wants to think about.  So instead she focuses on how easily they will find what they need.  “I have faith in us as well.  A historian and a private investigator.  We are a superhero to nerds.”  She nods her head as if she has to convince him of that fact. 

“Sometimes you just need to roam academically to figure out just where you belong.”  She gives him a small smile, glad that his nephew figured it out.  She realizes that she is probably taking up his precious time so she shakes her head quickly to his question.  “No, no, I am good.  I appreciate you letting me tag along.”  She stands and gives him one last look.  “Tomorrow, 9am, library, brownies, coffee and books --- so much fun!”

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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“Ahh, got stuck in the service closet, huh? Been there.” That’s just about what he was shoved into when he made detective. Curtis was in his late twenties at the time, and had been expecting a lot more. It was a big wake up call — the first of many. He chuckles when she mentions his current office, and takes a glance around like he still can’t believe it. The truth of the matter is that sometimes he doesn’t. “Oh, absolutely. I was just barely scraping by when I first got into this business, and I’m still one of the lucky ones. My partner – the McCall to the Ashford – we built this business up together. She’s a good friend, and we’ve always been each other’s equals here.” Despite the complications concerning Drew, Curtis didn’t let that effect his friendship with Sam.

They work well together, which has him missing partnering up on cases. The last time he had a partner was when he was working with Laura Collins — which reminds him that he should really give her a call now that her son has come back from the dead. He puts that reminder toward the back of his head to focus more on Emery in there here and now. Her reassurance has him nodding, accompanied by a smile of relief. “That’s good to hear; I’m glad you think so. With that said, I could definitely use another set of hands to sort through who knows how many boxes tomorrow.” He chuckles, and maybe he would tease her about changing her mind before it’s too late, but Curtis believes her when she says digging through boxes of old books is something she’d genuinely enjoy. “I plan to be at the public library by nine. I’ll meet you there?”

Better to be early, after all. They’ll have an easier time getting in before all the afternoon and after school crowd starts to pile up. He laughs again when she brings up that her nose was the target of childhood bullies, but it’s more sympathetic. “Kids can be cruel, can’t they? Somehow they know just where to hit you.” Curtis knows just what she’s talking about, but he can hardly remember what kids used to tease him about. “I think they were wrong, if it counts for anything.”

“Yep.  I feel entirely safe in calling it a closet too.  There is no window.  Oh well, at least I never can see what I am missing,” she points out as if that is an upside.  She then shakes her head.  She knows she should keep her complaints to a minimum.  She has been given an opportunity many other scholars scream for.  “I am glad that it worked out for you.”  She hasn’t met this mysterious McCall, although she can see her touches around the office space. “And that you have someone that has your back.  I know it probably isn’t as glamorous as the movies make it out to be but I bet every now and then you need someone some backup.” 

Emery practically claps her head in excitement --- both at the prospect of finding her missing journal and to see what other gems are hidden in the boxes.  She is willing to bet that she will find some other things that would stand up to historical inspection.  If so, she can give the library some advice on how to authenticate them.  She will do her best not to be overzealous but if her initial reaction is any clue, she has a feeling she will nerd out.  “That sounds perfect.  I will bring coffee.  And brownies.  Because I have a feeling we will need some caffeine to start and some sugar to keep us going,” she insisted.  She is used to her weird eating schedule and thinks nothing of having brownies as a mid morning snack or even lunch if it comes to that. 

She finds herself looking at her lap and blushing a little at his insistence that the kids were wrong.  “I appreciate that.  I have been working at forgetting my child years.  Or at least selectively remembering them.  Besides, you’re right.  Kids.  They almost can’t help themselves.  I would much rather deal with young adults any day even if they are begging me for an extension on their term project because they were too hung over to finish it on time.”

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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“Yeah, yeah, I get it. There’s a big difference between relying on collaboration and taking advantage of people who can’t afford to say no.” Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people out there who use their platform of power to wriggle their way out of work and responsibility, but Emery doesn’t strike him as that kind of person. Curtis gives her another friendly smile, and nods like there is no doubt in his mind. “I think I will be. You’ve got ambitious written all over you. Just hang in there; it’s only a matter of time.” Every field requires a few years of grunt work. Curtis did his as a cop; he rarely enjoyed his days working the beat. He was a much better detective, and for a while, an even greater DEA agent.

But he’s never been happier than he is now, as a private investigator. Sometimes falls from grace and hard lessons are just a part of the journey to getting to where you are meant to be. He’s leaning back in his chair, happy that he was able to give Emery something to hold her over until he goes back to looking for the journal, when she offers to help him out. His brows raise in slight surprise. “Are you sure? It’s your case, so you’re more than welcome to come along, but I want to to know that I’m one hundred percent dedicated to getting this journal back to you and your father.” She does phrase it more like she’s more interested in the library hunt rather than worried about his progress, but he wants to assure her that he’s taking her case very seriously. “But if you do want to come along, I’m still planning on going tomorrow morning, if that works for you.”

He does like having a partner on investigations. It can make long searches like the one he’s prepared to go on tomorrow more fun and engaging, but Emery did come to him as a result of not having the time to look into this herself. He doesn’t want her spreading herself too thin when this is something he can handle on his own. “Your nose?” Curtis leans in a little like he’s taking a better look before he laughs. “I don’t see anything wrong with your nose. You’ve got a great nose.”

“Just hang in there.  I need to get that cat poster that says the same thing for my office.  Or my closet.  They are essentially the same thing after all,” she teases.  Not that she hasn’t been prepared all along to pay her dues.  She knows it is part of academic life.  She is ready to sling it in the trenches but she hopes that when it is all said and done and she is enjoying her own success that she doesn’t repeat the pattern.  Or at least, not so obviously.  She never wants to forget her days in her closet.  “I suppose you speak from experience too.  I doubt you get a corner office with a PI license right out of the gate.”

She realizes what her words sounds like and immediately shakes her head.  ‘Oh, of course, I know.  You are totally committed to this.  I never doubted that for a second.  I just...can’t help but want to dig through old books.  I think it’s in my blood.”  She is such a nerd for history.  She always is.  It is a wonder that she had a social life growing up.  She figures that she spent more time with her nose in a book than partying. “So my desire to come along is more for my own curiosity and is in no way a statement on how you do your job.”  She doesn’t want him to think that she is questioning his abilities.  He has proven himself thus far and she has no doubt that he will get his hands on the book one way or another.  “So if you don’t mind an amateur sleuth along for the ride tomorrow morning, I can totally be there.” She will make time for it.  Research can wait.  

She can’t help but bring her hand up to cover the offending part of her face.  She must look absolutely ridiculous, sitting there with her hand over her nose.  She waits a beat or two and then lets it fall away.  “I can’t help it.  One kid told me it was big in grade school and now that is all I can think of.  You know how it is with kids.  They say the first thing that comes to mind and then you spend the rest of your life believing it because that kid said so.  It’s silly what sticks in our brains.”

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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Curtis is used to being vented to; it’s never bothered him. He’s been told a few different times that he has one of those personalities that makes it easy for other people to talk to him or trust him. If anything, it’s reassuring that he’s really found the box he belongs in as a private investigator. Being genuine and earning trust are two very important things to Curtis, so when Emery lets off a little steam, he listens. “I really can’t stand shit like that — people taking advantage of those lower down than them. I’m sorry you gotta put up with it.” He returns her sheepish look with a friendly one, hoping to put her at ease for opening up like that. He genuinely doesn’t mind. “But at the rate it looks like you’re going, you’ll be on top soon. It’s not fair, but hey, maybe it’ll be worth it.”

There’s a lot of bullshit that has to be waded through before you can get to where you want to be. Curtis knows that first hand, though his struggles had less to do with his higher-up coworkers and more to do with succumbing to personal struggles. As difficult as it was, it was the journey that got him here, and he can’t complain about that. He enjoys nothing more than being able to help people, especially on heartfelt cases like these. “I’m confident about that, too. If the journal was in one of those boxes, they’ll still have it. Shouldn’t be any issue getting it back from them if it’s there.” He can’t begin to guess what kind of information might be inside Dan Ward’s journal, but Curtis doubts the library will refuse to give it up.

It just has to actually be there, first. If it turns out it’s not, Curtis doesn’t know where he’ll go from there, but he’s determined to do this for Emery and her family. He’ll just have to dig deeper. When Emery looks up to him, incredulous over his comparison of her to Mary Mae Ward, Curtis chuckles. “I really think so. Especially the eyes — you both have the same kind eyes.” Sweetness and warmth radiate from them. He laughs as she compares their singing voices. “We can’t all be so lucky, huh? If only we could pick and choose what we inherit from our family. I’d be a whole other person,” he jokes. 

“Hey, one day I will be the one...” She trails off from finishing the idea of passing off her work to someone else.  “You know, when I get tenure, I don’t think I will rely on the underlings as much.  I mean, I know it is inevitable.  No professor is an island and all that but I am more interested in a community approach instead of a kingdom approach.”  She wonders if she is just dreaming of vision that she can’t actually pull off but she likes to think that she can pull it off.  “Hopefully you’re right though.  About being on top.  Or...at least, being on more equal footing.”

She hopes that he is right.  That nestled in one of those boxes is the one thing she can give her father before he...well, she doesn’t want to think about that at the moment.  She needs to keep looking at the good that can come from this.  Her dad will be happy.  She will have another chapter to add to her family history.  Both of these things are more than welcome.  “I can help,” she offers.  “I have lots of experience digging through boxes of donated items in hopes of finding that one tiny thing.  Plus...” And she shrugs her shoulders playfully.  “If I am being honest, I just love the smell of old books.  I’d apologize for that particular quirk but I am a historian --- I think that is expected of me at this point.”  

She can’t help but trace her fingers over the face of her great grandmother once more, wishing she could have more of her beyond pictures and her voice.  But she knows she will take what she can get.  “Thank you.  I like that thought,” she says quietly and then laughs at his joke.  “Oh gosh, you’re not wrong.  I would totally have my mother’s nose.  I am not sure what my dad has going on but it’s...not my style.”  She grins at him, glad that she stopped by.  She has got her update and perhaps a few laughs before she loses herself in her work.

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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The thud Emery’s bag makes when it hits the floor is almost enough to make the walls rattle. Curtis looks at the bag, then to Emery, to the bag again, then back to Emery.  His brows are raised in surprise, but that expression quickly turn into a chuckle. “Carrying the weight of the entire University on your shoulders, I see.” Her dedication and passion for her field is admirable. “But yes — perfect timing.” Especially considering the voice mail she might have heard through the walls if she was even just a few minutes ahead of schedule.

Thank god she wasn’t. Curtis has been trying to keep his marital issues as quiet as possible; he hasn’t even confided in Drew yet. His friend has too much on his plate for him to be dumping his marriage problems on him on top of everything else. But now that she’s here, Curtis distances his own issues from his mind and focuses on the reason Emery is here. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to give up on finding that journal so fast. They donated those boxes to the public library, so that’s where I will be going tomorrow morning. There’s a good chance they didn’t toss it out.”

Not in the garbage at least, but once a librarian realizes that it’s not a book, Curtis isn’t sure what they might do with it. It might be given to historian or museum to be analyzed, or they might just archive it. He’ll find out once he goes, but that’s only if the journal was in one of the donated boxes in the first place. It’s a pretty decent sized if.

Curtis is just glad he didn’t come up completely empty handed. He smiles as he watches Emery look at one of the photos within the folder. “When I took a quick look through some of those, I thought she looked familiar. I see why, now. You look just like her.”

“Seriously.  I am beginning to think that I am the only one holding that place together --- or at least the history department.  I say that with the humility of someone who does not have tenure but right now I have so much correcting to do I will be seeing double by the end of the night,” she mutters, and some of her recent bitterness shows.  She knows that she has to take her lumps on the road to getting that coveted contract but she can’t help but feel like she is being taken advantage of.  She still had to produce research for the university while trying to maintain a personal life too.  She realizes she is complaining to a near complete stranger so she gives him a sort of sheepish look.  “But hey, I guess you have to start somewhere right?”

She stills a little when he says that he is not giving up yet.  She had figured that as soon as that box was donated her journal was as good as lost. She knows what it is like to dig through thrift store finds.  She has done it before in hopes of finding something interesting.  She has never gone with one specific thing in mind.  When she hears it is the library, she nearly sags in relief.  “Oh I know they wouldn’t. One thing I have learned about libraries is that they can’t bring themselves to part with a book, even when they should.  Besides, anyone with any understanding of the history of Port Charles will know what they have in that journal.  I hope they don’t mind donating it back our way.  I don’t mind one day giving it back if they want to display it.”  She just needs to put it in her father’s hands before he dies.  

Emery’s head jerks up from the picture to look at him and then back down at Mary Mae.  She has an incredulous look on her face.  “You really think so?” she asks, and it is clear that his words mean something to her.  “She...well, she just means so much to this family. Did you know she could sing?  I have some of her records.  I can tell you that I definitely didn’t inherit her beautiful voice.  I am lucky if I can carry a tune in a bucket.”

[historiansward]

investigatorashford​:

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Curtis knows it’s a bad decision, but he does it anyway despite his own internal protests. He stands up from his desk at Ashford and McCall, setting aside one of the files of his cases while he fishes out his phone to call Jordan. He knows good and well that she won’t pick up and he’ll have to leave another voicemail, but he can’t just stop worrying about his wife any more than he can stop being frustrated with her. It’s been yet another week of radio silence, with not even a text to reassure him that she isn’t lying in a pool of her own blood in California right now.

But the dial tone just keeps on ringing, and he hears to all too familiar sound of his wife’s voice on the answering machine. It’s been three days since his last voicemail, so he leaves another, ending it by asking her to find just ten minutes to call him back. Curtis knows good and well how much Jordan’s job means to her, but he’s only asking for ten minutes. He doesn’t think that’s expecting too much from his wife. With a sigh, he just sets his phone on his desk and gets back to work.

No more than five minutes pass before he hears a knock at his door. About a month ago he might have tricked himself into getting excited that it was Jordan coming home early, but the thought doesn’t even cross his mind this time as he gets up to answer it, greeting Emery with a smile. “Hey there. C’mon in!” Curtis steps away from the entrance to give her plenty of room, and goes back to his desk where her case file is front and center.

“I was actually just about to call you. I checked out your grandparents’ last residence — it now belongs to a Mr. and Mrs. Howell. I told ‘em your story, and they were kind enough to let me inside.” Curtis watches her face for a moment before he delivers the important part. “Now I have some bad news… they told me that about a month ago, they donated a few boxes of old books they found in the attic. But…” He turns around in his chair to grab a manila folder, and hands it over to Emery. “They recently found this folder of old photos. There’s a couple dozen in there — I was thinking they had to be of your family?”

Emery moves in the office, letting her heavy bag hit the floor with a bit of a bang.  She has the good sense to look sheepish but then she shoves it aside with her foot.  She can’t help but roll her shoulder which is screaming in relief now that she has freed it all that paper.  

“I have good timing than!” She announces with grin before she sinks down into a chair. She has that feeling that she always gets when she is about to dive headfirst into a piece of the past.  She knows that he hasn’t said anything yet but she can’t help but picture herself looking over that diary (in between marking papers of course).  She knows that she will learn a thing or two and in the end, her father will be happy to have a piece of his legacy in his hands. 

Only it is not to be.

She can’t help but let her features fall when she hears the reality of it.  She nods her head.  “I suppose it is too much to ask to have it sitting there waiting for someone to snatch it up.  Too much time has passed...” She trails off for a moment but does her best to muster up some enthusiasm for the pictures.  Which turn out to be worth it.  

Her smile becomes more genuine as she flips it open to see the first one.  She traces a finger over the face looking up at her.  “It’s Mary Mae,” she breathes and then picks up the picture to show him.  “Mary Mae Ward.  One of a kind woman.  I never met her, she died before I was born.  But she casts a long shadow --- one of those that you actually want to stand in.”

[historiansward]

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Emery shifts the weight of her satchel from one shoulder to the other.  She is currently loaded down with enough papers to sink her should she accidentally fall into the harbor (a vision that she briefly has as she walks away from PCU’s campus).  She is trying her best not to let it get to her but in truth, she is annoyed.  

Yes, she knows she is only an associate professor at this point.  She is dancing around hoping for tenure and pulling up the slack of others in the department.  She wonders if twenty years from now when she is good and settled in her office if she will treat the newcomer like she has been treated.  She likes to think that she is better than that.  She hopes when that day comes she remembers how annoyed she is in this moment.  

It’s not really fair either because she loves Classical Greek history.  She would have enjoyed helping the professor put the class lectures together if he wasn’t such a jerk.  She does most of the work and he takes all the credit.  She is probably going to spend a good part of her night looking over one or two of these papers and he’s home watching reality TV (or at least that is how she is going to picture him). 

But first...

Emery thankfully avoids falling into the water and instead makes her way into Ashford and McCall.  She is hoping for a bit of an update from Curtis.  She lets go of her annoyance (or does her best to hide it) as she knocks.  “Hi there,” she begins with a smile as she sees him.  “How goes the battle?  It doesn’t even have to be mine specifically.  Just the battle in general.”

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

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“Trust me, I am not going to be a difficult client.  If there is another skeleton hiding in this particular closet…” She realized in saying that she had just hinted that there was one that came before.  She figured he was used to it though — he probably waded through family secrets on a regular basis.  “…I want it to come out.  The Ward family doesn’t hide.” Anymore.  She understood that her great-grandmother had lived in a different time.  She faced the implications that came with being a black woman who had a child with a rich married white man.  It hadn’t been easy for her.  Emery could have only imagined what was said to her. 

But she wouldn’t let anyone else drag her family down — the Wards deserved to be celebrated. 

“Also, judging by your comment on the size of my story, you’re an optimist.  Or at least have occasional bursts of it,” she teased with a grin.  Her hands were folded on her lap now.  She supposed he was right in a way.  The pages of her story were so well known to her that it was easy to skip over large sections.  Others wouldn’t do the same. 

“And of course I did my homework.  I work in academia.  I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t,” Emery chided with a raised eyebrow.  “Actually, I don’t think I am capable of jumping without doing a thorough assessment of the distance, wind speed and general ground conditions first.”  She couldn’t help herself. It was almost as if she was hardwired at this point. 

“Thank you for saying that.  My family…it means…well, I am sure you understand.” She hadn’t missed the pictures in the room (because she was always looking at things with an analytical eye).  “I should probably let you get to it. We’ll be in touch soon?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” From that, he gets the impression he’ll find something out about the Wards that wasn’t looked too fondly upon. Curtis isn’t one to cast judgment, especially with his own past mistakes and the skeletons his family has tried to bury. In fact, he finds it brave of Emery to want to come right out with those types of secrets. Not just anyone would be so willing to air their dirty laundry, even if it was in the pursuit of something greater.

As Emery calls him an optimist, Curtis chuckles. “So I’ve been told. I just like to put up a good fight and keep the faith.” He’s not a religious man these days, but he grew up around it to some extent. Then he climbed out of the pit that was his drug addiction, and that cranked up his determination. Even years of sobriety hasn’t chipped away that instinct.

He prefers to embrace it, anyway. It’s served him well in this line of work, and he hopes to prove that to Emery and her father. “I should’ve guessed. If I couldn’t tell you love what you do, I think you’d make a pretty damn good PI yourself.” It’s similar to the level of work a detective has to put in but with a lot less resources. Curtis has enjoyed the challenge ever since he stepped into the role.

Emery gets ready to leave, and Curtis stands to walk her out. “Yes, of course. You got all my contact information, and the office hours here. I look forward to hearing from you.”

thread complete

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

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investigatorashford‌:

“I appreciate that. It’ll help a lot in the long run.” Right now his questions are too basic to waste her time with. Most of them can be answered by a quick internet search and some archive digging. From there Curtis is sure he’ll draw up a dozen or so questions that he’ll need Emery’s help with, if she even knows the answers herself. As for her story in all this, Curtis shakes his head at her assessment. “I think most of us feel that way about ourselves, but I’m sure there’s more to your story than you think.”

What Curtis thinks are boring corners of his past have been interesting anecdotes to his wife and friends. Then there are the bigger secrets harbored underneath, chapters of his story he’d burn if they didn’t come with the lesson he needed to learn. Emery may not have such bad chapters, but Curtis doesn’t doubt she has good ones.

Which makes it interesting when she admits to have done a little bit of research on him before she came to ask for help. His brows raise in surprise, but more than that, he’s impressed. A lot of people rush out to the first investigator they can find, eager to get answers and less interested in the person they pay to do it. It makes sense when he thinks about it, given her commitment. “Did your homework, huh? That’s a good move. Just keep in mind that anything bad you read isn’t true. Only the good stuff,” he jokes.

He’s lucky to be involved with professionals like Sam and Spinelli, even if the latter can be a little bizarre. “I know a worthwhile case when I see one, and I don’t take your faith in me as an investigator lightly. I will do everything I can to find that journal for you and your family.”

“Trust me, I am not going to be a difficult client.  If there is another skeleton hiding in this particular closet...” She realized in saying that she had just hinted that there was one that came before.  She figured he was used to it though --- he probably waded through family secrets on a regular basis.  “...I want it to come out.  The Ward family doesn’t hide.” Anymore.  She understood that her great-grandmother had lived in a different time.  She faced the implications that came with being a black woman who had a child with a rich married white man.  It hadn’t been easy for her.  Emery could have only imagined what was said to her. 

But she wouldn’t let anyone else drag her family down --- the Wards deserved to be celebrated. 

“Also, judging by your comment on the size of my story, you’re an optimist.  Or at least have occasional bursts of it,” she teased with a grin.  Her hands were folded on her lap now.  She supposed he was right in a way.  The pages of her story were so well known to her that it was easy to skip over large sections.  Others wouldn’t do the same. 

“And of course I did my homework.  I work in academia.  I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t,” Emery chided with a raised eyebrow.  “Actually, I don’t think I am capable of jumping without doing a thorough assessment of the distance, wind speed and general ground conditions first.”  She couldn’t help herself. It was almost as if she was hardwired at this point. 

“Thank you for saying that.  My family...it means...well, I am sure you understand.” She hadn’t missed the pictures in the room (because she was always looking at things with an analytical eye).  “I should probably let you get to it. We’ll be in touch soon?”

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

Curtis chuckles a little bit, enthused in Emery’s determination. She might be a stranger, but he can’t imagine that she won’t meet her goals. When it comes to someone with that much devotion, he figures it’s only a matter of time. Port Charles has taught him a lot about that. This city, and the people in it, gave him a newfound purpose. He was able to run with it, and now he’s in a place he would have never seen himself in a decade ago.

“Alright, sounds good. I’m sure I’ll have some more questions for you by then.” The way she salutes makes him smile. He can’t exactly tells if she’s lighthearted, nervous, or something else, but he appreciates it nonetheless. As much as Curtis adores his wife and friends, most of them have serious jobs or lifestyles that often keeps them on high alert and hard focused. Emery definitely has the heavy weight of her father’s illness on her shoulders, but she appears to be keeping her hopes up.

It has Curtis all the more eager to start on this case. It’s made a little more difficult when Emery admits to not knowing who currently lives in the old Ward house, but this is nothing he hasn’t been through before. He isn’t too concerned about not being let inside the house to talk to the current residents or take a quick look around. “Nah, not creepy. Not to me, anyway. To others… who knows,” he teases. At least he’ll have some credentials to show that might inspire some comfort, though he’d like to believe that people would have sympathy for Emery’s story, Curtis knows better. “I should be able to make some headway with the people that live there. If we’re lucky, they might’ve kept what was left behind. If they found it at all.”

“Ask a way.  I am an open book.  Or at least my family’s history is.” The biggest thing she expected him to uncover (and therefore the easiest to find; it is not that far under the surface) was the news that Mary Mae had a child with Edward Quartermaine.  She had heard the edges of that scandal, and understood it well enough to fill in the rest.  A member of a prominent family had a skeleton in their closet.  Through in racial tension and you have a familiar story.  But it was still her family’s story and she was determined to make sure it saw the light of day properly.  “Trust me, it’s more interesting that way anyway.  My book --- is dreadfully thin.”  

Born. Raised by a loving dad.  Went to college. Spent her time with nose in dusty old records.  The end. 

Emery was actually looking forward to uncovering another layer of family history.  It would help her understand the complexities of where she came from and of course, above all, it would give her father some peace of mind.  He needed that.  She could see it on his face every time she visited him.  As the worst possible outcome loomed, he wanted his family as close to him as they could be.  She didn;t want to let him down. 

“Well, different strokes to different folks I guess, she told him with a hint of a smile.  She was glad that he wasn’t deterred by the idea of someone else living there.  “I really appreciate you agreeing to take this all on.  I know that this is your job but I did a little research...force of habit,” she quipped and this time she managed a grin.  “You could have your choice of cases if the reviews are any indication.”  There was a reason she showed up on his doorstep after all. 

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

“I’m a big believer of hard work pays off. I’m sure you’ll get that nameplate.” Curtis figures it’s what drew her to a private investigator in the first place. She can’t give work her all if she’s bogged down in chasing after an old family relic, especially on the sensitive timetable she’s on, and it seems that Emery is the type to want to give everything her all. She’s going through an awful lot of trouble already, and if Curtis had to guess, her looking for outside help was likely more of a last resort than it was a first stop.

He’ll do what he can to make sure she doesn’t regret it. Curtis watches as she scans over the forms, and lets him know they’ll be in by tomorrow. He nods. “I can’t go out knocking on doors until I get those forms in, but I’ll do some research in the meantime.” He’s got internet sleuthing down as an art form, but even that doesn’t compare to what Damian Spinelli can do with a computer. If there’s a question about the Wards he just can’t crack, he’s got no doubt that his colleague could find something within twenty-four hours.

Ashford and McCall has a damn good record of successful investigations, and he plans to keep it that way. Plus, the more work he can dive into, the better. Curtis writes down the address, the street name sounding familiar enough. It’s in the older part of town, though most of those areas are constantly getting renovated. Emery tells him that the house is still there, but has seen a few makeovers. That doesn’t surprise him, but luckily basements and attics are the last to be completely ripped out and redone. He’s got his doubts it could be anywhere else, if it’s still in that house. There may be some hope for that journal yet. “It’s a good possibility. Do you know who lives in the house right now?”

“From your mouth to the ear to the Dean,” Emery said, hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate.  She covered any hint of it with a smile.  She knew that Port Charles was not the last stop.  Her name was out there, circulating around academia.  If this place was only a temporary (but important) stop on her journey, she would accept that.  She knew the realities of the career paths she had choice.  It was a dog eat dog word (well, in between exhilarating discussions on historical matters that others would yawn at).

Emery nodded her head at his words, understanding the need to have all your I’s dotted and T’s crossed.  He had to look out for himself.  “You’ll have it asap, I swear,” she told him, holding three fingers up in a mock Boy Scout salute.  He could probably pass the time by doing a quick Google search on the Ward name.  That was bound to bring up some things.

“I don’t actually.  After Mary Mae died, the Wards kind of dispersed.  I think she was very much like a glue that held us together...” She said it like she had a chance to know her.  Truth was, she had very little memory of the woman but knew that she was larger than life.  “The house left our family.  I’ve been tempted to go up and knock on the door.  Sort of introduce myself.  But that sounds a little creepy.  Right?” She made a face, never quite knowing the line.  She was the kind of person that hungered for answers and often did what she could to get them.  But this was more personal and the last thing she wanted to do was scare off a potential lead.  

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

  investigatorashford‌:

“I didn’t get my name on this place for nothing,” he jokes right back. In truth, Curtis never expected to fall into being a private investigator. He had done well in the CEA for a long time, and he liked it there, until he started making some stupid decisions. It took him a while to climb his way out of the hole he dug for himself, but now that he’s out of it, he’s happier than he’s ever been. For the most part. “I don’t know if I buy that.” He doesn’t think she was hiding it, either. “But I’m happy to fill in where I can.”

The wheels are already turning in his head, and he hasn’t even officially accepted the case yet. He’ll have to dig deep into the history of the Ward family to obtain any information Emery doesn’t have, but Curtis always looks forward to the chase. “Then you got yourself a private detective. Here,” he starts, opening a cabinet to retrieve paperwork. “Client consent forms, and all that. Feel free to look it over and return it whenever’s convenient for you.” It’s all the legal jargon regarding payment and privacy.

But Curtis is more than willing to continue discussing the case, even without the forms turned in. He jots down more notes about the other Ward relatives, as well as the description of the journal. “No, no, those details are important. A general description is better than nothing.” Though he’s nothing if not thorough, and it’s likely that Curtis will skim through any book he finds that may have belonged to the Ward family, regardless of the color or texture. “So Mary Mae Ward is who we will focus on. Do you know where she was living, before her death?”

“I won’t begrudge anyone a nameplate.  I am working on one myself.  Only mine will have the word Professor in front of it.”  Fingers crossed.  Toes crossed.  Everything crossed.  She knew professorships didn’t come up that often and there would be a large number of candidates vying for the position when it came.  Now that she was in Port Charles, she found herself wanting to stay  Some of where she came from was within the city limits.  A part of her own personal history.  She figured that this was the perfect place to write her next chapter.

If things worked out the way she wanted them too.

Emery reached for the forms, scanning them with the quick efficiency of someone who spent a great deal of her day surrounded by the written word.  It all seemed very concise and reasonable.  She wasn’t exactly rolling in the dough right now (come on professorship) but she would devote what she had to this.  It was for her father after all.  She’d make it work.  Even if she had to revert to her college days and live on rice cakes for awhile.  She placed them in her bag to fill out properly.  “You’ll have them tomorrow,” she promised.  She wouldn’t waste his time by filling them out in front of him.

“As for Mary Mae --- the Ward House. On Royal Street.”  She dug through her purse to find an old photograph of the place.  “I think the house that is there now is the same one.  It has its bones at least.  Just maybe had a face lift or two.  I wonder if what I am looking for it is tucked away in a wall somewhere.  Or hiding behind an attic joist, forgotten.”

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

Curtis laughs, and adds in a nod of his head. “I guess that’s why you’re here, huh?” It can be difficult for the average person to take on this kind of a scavenger hunt, especially when they have to balance it with their job and family. Meanwhile, he’s got all the working hours in a week to look into these special cases. Sometimes he’ll dedicate even more to them, depending on what it is or who’s asking.

He’s got a feeling this might be one of those times. With the very sensitive timetable this case has, Curtis already knows he’s going to want to give it his all. Besides, he could use such an interesting distraction. “Great. That should help speed up the search. It might even turn up other materials the Wards possessed.” If there’s one thing he’s learned since becoming a private investigator, it’s that there’s a lot to be found on the way to what you’re actually looking for.

As Emery tells him a few details about the Ward family, he jots down the dates and names. The older a case is, the more difficult things become, but he’s not deterred by the twenty years this journal has had to be tossed away among other old books. “That might make it more difficult, but there’s always a chance.” He’s searched for more of a long shot on less information with surprising success, so he’s still got plenty of hope. “Are there descendants other than you and your father who could have it somewhere? Even if you’ve already checked in with them, it’s possible it was forgotten in some box in an attic, or storage closet.” It’s the most likely place to start looking.

“Exactly.  Look at you, catching on,” Emery teased, with a short laugh.  She felt a bit like she was getting him to do her dirty work but she was also running out of options.  There was only so much she could do.  She was one person after all.  “One of us has to do it and I am glad it’s not me.” Her tone was loose, but she was sure that he could tell that she wanted to do the exact opposite.  She wished that she could dive in head first but life wasn’t always that kind. 

“Anything you find on top of that would be a bonus.  Trust me.” She thought of everything they had already pieced together about the Ward family.  In the back of her mind ,she had dreams of putting it all together into a book some day but that was another one of those pipe dreams.  Something that sort of bounced around the fog in her brain, popping up every now and then to tease her. 

“I realize I am sort of asking you to find a needle in a haystack.  I know the odds aren’t the best but I still have to try,” she reasoned.  “So I will take that chance.  However small.”  She took a deep breath to try and push back at any doubts that wanted to creep in.  “There are some.  My aunt Keesha --- she also lived in Port Charles for a time.  And my cousin Maya.  Another temporary resident.  They’ve searched through there things.  But Aunt Keesha...she remembers Mary Mae holding it.  It’s leather bound.  A dark burgundy color. I am sure that those small details aren’t important right this minute given you have a huge space to look for it in.”

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

“That’s a first.” Joking with people, even strangers, comes naturally to Curtis. He does what he can to skip right over the awkward meeting stage without even thinking about it  – especially with clients or potential clients. It’s important that they trust him. “Lurking around dark corners is a popular request.” He doesn’t know if he prefers it over getting to slap on an alias and cover story, but there’s no denying that he enjoys his job.

Curtis gets the feeling that Emery enjoys her job, too. He can’t help but smile as she launches into a bit of where she’s coming from, and what she’s used to. “Nah, you’re good. You seem to have a good idea as to what goes into a job like this.” Both of them are likely to get neck deep into research and details, even if they’re of a different kind. “The more information I have going in, the more likely I’ll be able to get something out of it.” A missing journal is one thing, but the missing journal of Dan Ward, still thought to be located in Port Charles, is a whole other story.

And… here is where the job gets hard. Private investigations are private for a reason. They are typically things close to the hearts of those who need the help, and the case appears to be no different for Emery. “I’m sorry to hear that.” It’s not his place to go into it, so he leaves his condolences at that. “I’d be happy to help you in tracking down this journal. I’ve gotten to know Port Charles pretty well. If it’s here, I think we stand a good chance of finding it.” But it all depends on the circumstances. “Now, do you have any known locations of Dan Ward, and the years he was in Port Charles? Where he lived, where he worked?”

“Better you than me,” Emery stated with a curl of her nose.  Although she had done her fair share of digging through dust and spiderwebs, it was hardly a match for garbage.  She loved history and she strove to put the puzzle pieces together.  But she drew the line at dumpster diving.  

She relaxed once more in her seat, lulled by his sense of humor and easy smile.  She supposed he would have to be a people person to this job.  He helped people when they were at their lowest.  She wondered how many people had sat in the very seat she was in and cried their eyes out.  She could do the same if she really broke down why she was here.  But it be a different cry than that of a jilted lover.  “I guess I seem some similarities --- although the misdeeds I usually uncover happened years ago,” she told him, returning his smile.  “I can help you with the information.  Give you as much as I can.  I want to make sure that I get my hands on this and at this point, I realize that more than one set of eyes is necessary.”

Emery dipped her head at his show of sympathy.  She wasn’t here to collect pity or be a sob story.  She was here, driven by determination and a daughter’s need to ensure that her father’s last months on earth went how they should go.  “The Wards have a long history in Port Charles.  They moved here in the mid-40s.  Dan and Mary Mae.  My great grandparents...” She had a few pictures of them in her temporary home in Port Charles.  She wondered if she should have brought them to this meeting.  If he needed them, she would make sure that she got them.  “I really think this case is going to be about Mary Mae.  She outlived Dan by some years.  I think the journal was probably in her possession.  She died in 1996.  Which means that the journal has had over twenty years to be misplaced...” She gave him a look, wondering if that changed the parameters of his interest.

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

As they get settled into his office, Curtis prepares himself for the worst. There is typically no case he will turn down unless it’s too far off the ethics he adheres to, or it’s just too much of a legal risk. Not even a licensed private investigator can get away with just anything. He will push the boundaries as far as they will bend without breaking, but having the police commissioner for a wife is a very stern reminder of what lines he should not be crossing.

“Well thank god for that.” He says that with a sigh of relief and a smile to match. “I don’t think I could handle another case like that.” But it’s typically only Drew who manages to rope him into the worst kind of situations. That man could talk him into nearly anything, much to Curtis’ dismay.

He leans back in his chair as Emery begins to fill him in on some of the background of what she wants some help with. He nods along, listening closely and jotting down specifics, such as the name Dan Ward. Curtis has done enough digging into the history of Port Charles to think the name Ward sounds vaguely familiar, but he can’t be certain.

“That sounds like something I can help you with.” A missing journal that should still be in Port Charles. He’s got about a dozen questions, so he doesn’t waste time in firing them off. “Now, how open is this case? Are you free to discuss more details with me, or is the less I know the better?” He can work with either situation, though it’s safe to say that the former makes it much easier for him to do his job. “And what are these time constraints?”

“I am hoping that despite what I think is an unusual request for a private investigator that it will be a more straight forward case,” Emery told him with a shrug of her shoulders.  “No dumpster diving and no lurking around dark corners.” She was just looking for something that had been misplaced.  She figured that it had been given to some archive somewhere.  Or it was tucked away in some corner of someone’s attic, forgotten about at the moment.  

Normally, she would do all the heavy lifting herself but she also had a job to do.  She had to pay the bills, hence her research for the university.  She usually only  took one thing on at a time; she liked to immerse herself into it all.  She was a bit of a history nerd (a title she wore proudly).  She enjoyed living, breathing and falling headfirst into whatever she was looking into.  She felt like she was being torn in two between duty to her family and her need to eat.  

“Ask me anything you want.  I know how the process works...” She trailed off, realizing it sounded presumptuous.  “I just mean --- well, I work in the history department at the University as a researcher.  I am have experience getting to the bottom of things.  The better launching pad you have the more likely you are to find the answers you want.  Although, maybe you work under an entirely different process than I do...” She made a face.  “I’ll stop babbling now.”  She gave him an apologetic look that was a little on the sheepish side.  

When he turned to the time constraint, her easy smile fell just a little.  “It’s for my dad.  That’s why I am doing this.  He wants the journal as part of his find all things Ward mission.  We’ve been collecting things for years but this is what he has been looking for since the beginning.  He doesn’t have much time left.” She figured he could read between the lines.

[historiansward]

needle in a haystack

[historiansward]

investigatorashford‌:

With a new potential client at the door, Curtis does his best to put Jordan as far in the back of his mind as he can. Hard focusing on the investigations he’s taken on is probably the only reason why he hasn’t done something too rash, like fly over to California and try to track down Jordan himself. Just the thought of that screams disaster, but he can’t pretend it hasn’t crossed his mind. He just wants to get to the bottom of why his wife decided to move across the country four months after they got married.

Since he can’t get to the bottom of that, he’ll have to focus on getting to the bottom of the everyone else’s problems. Curtis shakes this woman’s hand, offering her another friendly smile as she steps inside the office. He leads her down the short hallway to his office, opening the door and letting her in before he takes a seat behind his desk.

She’s a new face; that much he knows for certain. Not especially uncommon, given that Port Charles is a decent sized city. First impression looks like she’s in a rush, and with a lot on her mind. Hence why she’s here, if he had to take a guess.

He’s pretty good at those. Emery introduces herself, and he takes some mental notes to be written down later if she decides that Ashford & McCall is the right fit for her. She seems certain enough, though Curtis has to laugh when she suggests that her request might be strange. “You’ll have to try me. I’ve seen my fair share of over the top crazy cases. As long as you don’t have me dumpster diving with rats, I think I’ll be the detective for you.” The smile he gives her is teasing as he grabs a pen and notebook. “So what’s this request of yours?”

In many ways, his office reminded her of her corner of the university.  Although her was comparably much smaller --- the curse of the newest body in the door.  But still, it felt lived in.  Emery took a quick glance around the room as she sank down in the seat across from him.  There were files, remnants of his other cases no doubt.  A discarded coffee mug.  A picture of him and a beautiful woman, both of them smiling (and with that, she could not stop herself from spying the familiar gold band around his finger).  Hers was a little messier, because sometimes she got so caught up in what she was doing and forgot to actually organize it.  There was just something familiar about the whole set up.

That and the smile on his face seemed to put her at ease immediately.

“Oh trust me, if you have to go dumpster diving, the game is over before it actually got off the ground,” she told him with a shake of her head.  What she was looking for was lost to the annals of time currently.  

“I am not looking for a person but something that belonged to a person,” she began, hoping that she didn’t sound like some cliche.  She snorted to herself and then looped her bag over her neck so she could sit it on the floor.  “I guess I just better be straight.  My family --- the Wards, they used to be something in Port Charles.  A respected name.”  She was sure that even now if she went around throwing it out there, there would be some that would remember.  

“Of course that doesn’t mean the Wards are perfect.  We have our fair share of skeletons in our closet.  And I am looking for one of those --- my great grandfather Dan Ward’s journal.  I’ve been looking for it for awhile now and I am pretty sure it didn’t leave Port Charles like many thought it did,” Emery explained.  “And given time constraints, I could use some help looking for it.”