Sister-In-Law Surveillance

When Fiona married Paul, a man with brown hair, they produced a red-haired daughter and brown-haired son, as red hair also ran in Paul's family, his sister a redhead. However, if Paul also had red hair, then he and Fiona could not have had a brown haired child, only kids with red hair due to the recessive genes.

Then there were blood types. Mum was AB positive, Dad O positive, and Fiona and I were type-A blood, Daniel type B. By amazing coincidence, documented on one of Sammi-Jo's parenting blogs, her mother was also AB positive, her father O positive, and she and Lori-Beth type A and younger sister Jamie-Lee had B type blood. Neither the Burgess nor Maclean families could have produced an AB or O child, as the dominant A and B would always mask the recessive O, but each of us carried an O blood gene.

Sammi-Jo had posted about how her family was a perfect set of blood types, mother type A, father type B, twin daughters Heaven and Neveah having AB blood like their grandmothers, Zayden type O like his grandfathers. It seemed an odd thing to post - maybe Sammi-Jo was trying to convince herself of something - but still, Daniel could be Zayden's father with this genetic pattern.

Then there was tongue rolling. Daniel could never roll his tongue, but Fiona and I could. Heaven and Neveah, from observing the kids in the ice cream shop in Glenelg that day, were both unable to do so like their Dad, a recessive trait. But Zayden could, a dominant trait. However, I then recalled seeing Sammi-Jo this morning rolling her tongue when sucking off Tony. Zayden must have inherited this from his mother. Still no proof.

I looked further down the list of recessive and dominant genetic characteristics, some which proved nothing, and others which were too obscure to determine, until I came to earwax, where wet earwax was a dominant characteristic, dry flaky earwax recessive in Caucasian people. Looking at Sammi-Jo's online video, one of the older ones where she and her daughters fed their earwax to Mrs. Maclean's cat, the mother and daughters clearly had recessive dry earwax.

My mind went back further, way back to the year 1994. That year, Fiona, Daniel and I had all got the flu in winter, and subsequent ear infections that led to us needing our ears syringed out. The doctor had made a game out of it, saying that whoever produced the most wax would win a prize. We all had our ears washed out, and looked at all the wax in the kidney basins.

Daniel, then aged 7, had been fascinated by his dry flaky wax, which contrasted vastly from the wet earwax extricated from the ears of Fiona and myself. He asked if this was because he was a boy and Fiona and I were girls, to which the doctor had laughed and said no, it was just that most people had wet wax like most people were right handed, and fewer people were left handed and had dry earwax.

I then thought about the tram trip to Glenelg where Sammi-Jo had cleaned some wax out of Zayden's ear. Wet brown wax. A dominant genetic characteristic. His parents both had recessive dry earwax, this passed on to their daughters. Two recessive parents could not produce a biological child with a dominant feature like that.

The truth washed over me like a king wave, and it was hard to face it. I now knew for sure something I had subconsciously suspected for some time. Daniel may have been raising Zayden as his son, but he was not Zayden's biological father. Another man had impregnated Sammi-Jo and fathered Zayden. My brother Daniel was not the father of his own son.

*

After some sleepless hours that night, I knew what I was going to do on Saturday morning. Sammi-Jo drove over to Woodville with her kids, and deposited them to my parents' care for a day's outing at the dinosaur exhibition and show.

Sammi-Jo being Sammi-Jo, she could not resist posting online videos of her kids online dressed for their big day out. Heaven and Neveah wore pretty pink dresses, while Zayden wore a white jumper with a pink unicorn prancing amongst fairies, plus purple jeans with butterflies on them, the little boy leaving the house carrying a toy purse like his sisters, skipping out to the car.

I knew Dad wouldn't be happy about how his grandson was dressed for the day, but he would be even less pleased if he had seen what his daughter got up to when she thought nobody was watching. I drove to Sammi-Jo and Daniel's house, in my regular car and not disguised this time. I knew what I was going to do. Revealing this information was too much, doing nothing was not an option either, especially now I knew Daniel was not Zayden's biological father.

Approaching the door, armed with all my evidence, I rang the doorbell, which was answered by Sammi-Jo, dressed today in a white tee-shirt and very tight blue jeans, her feet bare and her blonde hair loose. She looked surprised to see me and not all that pleased, but was friendly.

"Hi Rachel, this is a surprise," she said.

I was equally polite. "Hi Sammi-Jo, I was just passing by and I thought I'd call in to say hello. I hear my parents have taken your kids out for the day."

Sammi-Jo looked at me. "Yes, that's right, a fun day out to see the dinosaurs." She opened the door, although I could see she wasn't happy about me turning up unannounced. "Come in."

"Thank you," I said, walking inside with her, and Sammi-Jo closed the door.

"I actually have to head out soon," said Sammi-Jo. "I wish you'd called me first."

"It was a spur of the moment thing, sorry about not calling first," I said, lying perfectly. "So are you going anywhere nice?"

"Oh, just to meet some clients who flew in from the Gold Coast," said Sammi-Jo, as we sat in the living room. "I promote their products online, I'm one of their most popular online influencers."

"That sounds interesting," I said. "And talking about interesting things, I was on a week's holiday this week, and I saw some interesting things around the place that you might like for your parenting blog."

"So, what did you see?"

"Well, on Monday and Tuesday I thought I might have seen something interesting," I said. "But I didn't really. Then on Wednesday, I took a drive up to Elizabeth, I haven't been there for ages. I saw lots of interesting things there. Have you been to Elizabeth recently?"

Sammi-Jo retained her composure. "No."

"Yeah, it is a bit of a drive," I said. "But so is Christie's Beach down south. That's an interesting place? Been there recently?"

Now I could see the first signs of worry on Sammi-Jo's face, but she didn't break. "No, Daniel and I took the kids to the beach there a few months ago, but not since."

"When I got back from Christie's Beach on Thursday, I went to the airport and it was amazing. I saw a girl who looked just like you. They say everyone has a double, and how amazing yours also lives in Adelaide."

Sammi-Jo was now clearly on edge. "Rachel, what is this? I wasn't at the airport on Thursday."

"I wasn't saying you were, I just saw a girl who looked like you. So where did you go on Friday, Sammi-Jo?"

"I don't see what I did on Friday has anything to do with you." Sammi-Jo folded her arms.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me. I'll tell you what I did. I went to Mount Lofty, I just love the views up there. And not only that, I went for a walk on a trail, and the things I saw in the bush, you'd have to be there to believe it. But you weren't at Mount Lofty on Friday morning were you Sammi-Jo? So you couldn't have seen what I did?"

"I think I'd like you to leave now Rachel," said Sammi-Jo. "This is weird, and you're making me feel very uncomfortable in my own house. You turn up without warning, start talking about strange things, and asking me questions about where I was last week, and it's none of your business what I do anyway."

"I agree 100 percent," I said. "It is none of my business. But you're married to my brother, and I think it most definitely is Daniel's business what his wife gets up to when he's away."

"Daniel and I trust each other 100 percent, and I would never have an affair, which is what you're implying." I had Sammi-Jo on the ropes now, she was flustered and red. "Get out Rachel, I don't know why you're trying to cause problems in my marriage, but it stops now. What do you think Daniel would think of his sister harassing his wife?"

"Not much," I said. "But I think that he would be even less pleased if we took a sample of his hair, and a sample of your son Zayden's hair and took them to the lab for a DNA test. I think that would be your worst nightmare come to life, wouldn't it Sammi-Jo? Your husband finding out the truth about Zayden."

I watched as Sammi-Jo went white and stared at me, clearly in a panic, tears welling in her blue eyes. She then clutched her stomach. "I need to go to the toilet!" she exclaimed, running from the room on her bare feet, crying as she did so.

I followed Sammi-Jo, and heard her slam the toilet door closed, lock it and put the seat down. Within a few seconds, a few things were proved. One, pretty girls do fart, I could hear the panicking Sammi-Jo breaking wind loudly on the toilet. And two, it is possible to literally scare the shit out of somebody.

Sammi-Jo's farting preceded the sounds of her having a massive shit, me able to hear her feces splashing into the bowl and going everywhere in the toilet, and she just kept right on pooing and pooing and pooing. If she needed a colonoscopy, this would be perfect preparation or the procedure. And if she had swallowed gum as a teenager, I think that she would have finally passed it today.

The sounds from Sammi-Jo's bowels abated, and I tentatively called out, "Sammi-Jo?"

I heard her tearful, indignant reply through the door. "I need to get some toilet paper and wipe my bottom. Please leave me alone!"

"Okay Sammi-Jo, I'll leave you in privacy," I called out, listening as Sammi-Jo advanced the toilet roll, getting toilet paper to wipe her bottom. The dirty bitch had to unwind nine lengths of toilet tissue to finish cleaning herself up, before I heard Sammi-Jo flush the toilet. Sammi-Jo then sprayed toilet freshener around, the little skank obviously unable to handle the stench of her own shit. She emerged still pulling up and adjusting her jeans and panties, went into the bathroom and washed her hands, then came out still weeping, clutching a handful of tissues to wipe her eyes.

Sammi-Jo regarded me tearfully. "I knew I should have been more careful around you. You're a private investigator and an ex-cop. But why did you follow me on your week off from work? Why are you trying to make trouble for me and my son? Do you get a sick pleasure out of this?"

"Let's go and have a chat," I said to the clearly terrified Sammi-Jo, both of us going into the living room, where we sat on the couch.

"Please don't tell Daniel about Zayden, he thinks Zayden is his son and he loves him, it would break his heart if he knew the truth. And Zayden's just a little boy, he doesn't have anything to do with this," Sammi-Jo pleaded.

"So you admit that Zayden isn't Daniel's son?" I said.

Sammi-Jo shook her head. "No, Daniel isn't Zayden's real father. But how did you find out?"

"Genetics," I said. "Earwax to be honest. You and Daniel both have dry earwax, as do the girls, and that's recessive. But Zayden has wet earwax, and that's dominant, so he cannot be Daniel's son. It's like two parents with red hair, their kids have to have red hair."

"I never knew that about the earwax," said Sammi-Jo. "But Heaven and Neveah are Daniel's kids, I swear he really is their father."

"I never doubted that for a second. With Zayden, personality was also a bit of a clue that made me suspicious. Zayden and Daniel are nothing alike, I mean my brother is a professional sportsman, and Zayden doesn't seem to like sports. It's like Daniel had nothing to do with Zayden at all."

"Zayden is starting to look like his father, his real father," said Sammi-Jo. "I mean, there's the blonde hair and blue eyes which we all have and nothing too obvious, but subtle things are showing through. Plus his personality is so much like his real father."

"Who is Zayden's real father?"

Sammi-Jo looked sheepish. "Chris."

"Chris?" I was shocked. Not only had Sammi-Jo been knocked up by her cousin, but this cousin was openly homosexual. "Your gay cousin Chris?"

Sammi-Jo nodded. "Yes."

"How? You're kidding."

"Chris was always gay, really camp gay," said Sammi-Jo. "When he visited when we were kids, I always used to let him dress up in my clothes, he came out when he was only 13 not that anyone was surprised, and he's only ever dated other men. Then one day about four years ago, Chris came to me and said he was doubting that he was fully gay, that he was thinking he might be bisexual, and recently was noticing women sexually. Like he was in the city and this pretty girl's skirt blew up showing her knickers, and Chris was turned on by it. We were talking about sex, one thing led to another, the next thing we knew we were naked in bed together, screwing. We forgot about the condom, and nine months later along came Zayden. I hoped he was Daniel's son, I really did, but it's becoming more obvious Chris fathered him from that one time we were in bed together. Chris isn't a sports person, he doesn't like sport at all. He never has, and he hated PE and was always last picked for teams at school, and this seems to have carried through to Zayden."

She again pleaded with me. "I can pay you money if you want Rachel, to make this go away."

"Sammi-Jo, I'm not here to blackmail you," I said, still trying to process how this had taken a turn into incest, with Sammi-Jo's gay cousin Zayden's real father. "So does your gay cousin know that he is the father of your son?"

Sammi-Jo shook her head. "No, he doesn't have a clue. It's only me who knows, and now you. Are you going to tell your brother?"

I didn't answer Sammi-Jo directly. "It's one thing to make a mistake and get pregnant to another man while you're married, and I'm not going to comment on him being your cousin. But why are you still screwing around with other men now? Didn't you learn anything?"

Sammi-Jo looked directly at me. "Because I'm a sex addict."

"A sex addict?" I was cynical about the claim. "Seriously, that's the best you can come up with?"

"Yes, it's like being an alcoholic or a gambling addict," said Sammi-Jo. "I think about sex most of the time, and want to have it with lots of different people."

"Sammi-Jo, I saw Tony your personal trainer paying you for different sex acts in the hills yesterday," I said. "I saw you with those three New Zealanders on Thursday afternoon and you were boasting about how you would do anything for the right amount of cash. And I can't say for sure because I didn't see any money change hands, but I'm pretty sure you didn't visit that rich guy Derek and dress up as a schoolgirl and let him suck your toes for free."

Sammi-Jo seemed indignant. "If people want to pay me money or buy me nice things for having sex with them, then who am I to stop them? Me getting paid for having sex with lots of different people - which I love anyway - doesn't make me a prostitute."

"Sammi-Jo, that you have sex with other men for money makes you by definition alone a prostitute," I asserted. "And what about that dickhead bogan Dwayne in the caravan park? I don't think he would have much cash to pay a prostitute. So what were you doing with him?"

Again, that sheepish, evasive look on Sammi-Jo's face. "He um, doesn't pay me for sex," she mumbled. "I'm just um, being unfaithful and playing around having an affair with him."

"Even you can do better than Dwayne, Sammi-Jo," I said. "I don't know what's worse, that you charge some men for sex or that you're having it off with South Australia's biggest loser for free."

"Don't judge me, Rachel," said Sammi-Jo.

"Somebody has to judge you Sammi-Jo," I countered. "Obviously, you're not capable of judging yourself. You are married, and you have three young children. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Like I said, I have a sex addiction," said Sammi-Jo, standing her ground.

"It's not an excuse," I said. "It's like an alcoholic who gets drunk, drives and causes a fatal accident, or a gambling addict who embezzles money at work to cover losses. It's a reason for behaving the way they do, but not an excuse. And you're having it off with married men. You could destroy their marriages as well as your own. What does that make you? A home-wrecker."

"I'm always really careful," Sammi-Jo asserted. "I'd never bring a person back to my own house to have sex with me, I always use condoms so I don't get pregnant or catch an STD and I have a separate phone so the calls can't get mixed."

"Yeah, the little flip-phone," I said.

"Yeah, how did you know that?" Sammi-Jo asked. She then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're a private investigator, you'd pick up on small things like that. But for lots of people I see, I'm doing them a service and really helping them."

"Helping them? By having affairs and putting their marriages at risk as well as your own?"

"Some people have needs and desires outside of their marriage," said Sammi-Jo. "Like there's this Japanese guy I know, he has a fetish about periods and his wife doesn't want sex at all when it's her time of the month. So when I have my period, we get in touch and he can live out his fantasies. I fuck him cowgirl style so I bleed all over him, I let him eat out my pussy and we shower together because he loves showering with menstruating women. I let him watch me changing my pads and tampons, sniff the used ones and he'll even buy my dirty pads, full tampons and the feminine hygiene wipes I use to clean my pussy. Everyone wins, my client gets to have his period fetishes satisfied, he doesn't bother his wife when she has her period and wants to be left alone and I get money."

I thought to myself that my brother wouldn't consider himself a winner had he heard any of what came out of his wife's mouth just then, but didn't say anything about that. Instead I said, "Your personal trainer has some interesting fetishes."

Sammi-Jo nodded. "Yes, Tony loves drinking breast milk and girls' piss. His wife obviously won't do that, and they've never had any kids so no breast milk anyway. That's where I come in, I'm happy to do it. Plus his wife won't suck his cock or let him go down on her, she says it's dirty and cheap. So it's me to the rescue, I love sucking dick and guys eating out my cunt, and again everyone wins."

"I don't know about the three young Maori guys at the airport hotel, so I'll just assume you went in there for a gang-bang and leave it at that," I said. "But what about that rich guy Derek, from the big house at the sea? What if his wife Leonie had come home, or if she'd gotten suspicious about what her husband was getting up to while she was out at work or away and set up a hidden camera? You'd have been busted."

"No, that wouldn't happen," Sammi-Jo asserted.

"I wouldn't be too sure," I said.

"It wouldn't, because Leonie was right there in the house the whole time," said Sammi-Jo.

Again, I couldn't believe this. "What? You mean his wife was okay with her husband having some much younger woman over dressed as a schoolgirl, her husband acting out foot fetishes with her then taking her inside to fuck her? That was all okay with her? I find it very hard to believe."

"It's true," said Sammi-Jo. "Sometimes couples have joint fantasies. Derek and Leonie like a situation where Leonie walks in on her husband fooling around with a much younger woman, and instead of being outraged joins in for a threesome. The school uniform you saw me in was just one of the costumes I've worn when I go over there. I've also dressed up in a fast food restaurant uniform, as a theme park ride attendant, a netball player, a ballerina and a cheerleader. The three of us really enjoy ourselves, and Derek and Leonie are very generous with their tips."