Never Girl

by Ana Valen

  “Wait. You didn’t know?”

  He shook his head. “Kovalenko never tells me. He just gives me the target orders.”

  Shit.

  “I see,” she went on, forcing her cheer back into place. “Well, I ordered the hit because Susan was behind everything.”

  He remained quiet.

  “And now that she’s gone,” Claire continued, “I suppose everything is pretty much over.”

  “It’s not over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never carried out the hit.”

  Her cheer faded once more. “You didn’t?” She walked to the couch and sat. “What do you mean you didn’t?”

  He walked to the loveseat and likewise sat. “There was a security breach. One of the detectives showed up.”

  “Which one?”

  “The female.”

  “Raven,” she muttered. “Goddammit.”

  “Right. Detective Raven. I was inside the home and she arrived to speak with Susan.”

  “What did Raven say?”

  “That Susan wasn’t the prime suspect.”

  “Did Raven say who was?”

  “No. She never mentioned this.”

  Claire studied him. Was Harlan lying? It’s was hard to tell. His blank face gave away nothing.

  “Alright,” she went on. “Did Raven say anything else?”

  “Only that Susan was in danger. Because of this, Raven was going to enact precautionary measures. I didn’t know what that consisted of, so I cancelled the hit and regrouped with Kovalenko. Kovalenko ordered me to carry out surveillance. I’m going to do this until I figure out how to eliminate the target.”

  She took a breath to calm her anger. “How long will that take?”

  “That depends on how much protection the police put in place.”

  “You should’ve just killed her last night. You should’ve just killed her so we could be done with this.”

  “I only kill people when nobody can trace anything back to me. I accomplish this by closely studying my targets.”

  “It wouldn’t have fucking mattered.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” She took another breath, this time to get her head straight, lest her plan suffer. “I’m sorry. I’m just upset because last night didn’t go as planned. I really needed that target taken out.”

  “Again. Why?”

  “Because Susan is responsible for this shit. She’s the reason why my brother is dead. She needs to pay for that.”

  “She already is.”

  Claire narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “She’s suffering. She’s experiencing intense emotional ache. I’ve noticed that whenever I’m around her.”

  “And this bothers you?”

  “No. I don’t care.”

  She studied him once more. “It seems like you do.”

  “I don’t.”

  She slowly nodded. “Okay. Fine. But her suffering makes no difference. She’s still responsible. So you’re going to take her out. And you’re doing this tonight. You don’t have a choice in that.” She rose and started for the door.

  “Excuse me?” Harlan asked while rising.

  She stopped and turned back, fear creeping up her spine. She did her best to steady herself. “I said you don’t have a choice. I hired you for an investigation, and the investigation is over. I’ve learned enough. Now, I’ve hired you to kill someone. That means you work for me, not Kovalenko. I’m getting what I paid for—Susan’s death. And that’s happening tonight. Is that clear?”

  “I have to check with Kovalenko.”

  “No, you don’t. You simply have to follow my orders. That’s why I hired you—because you’re an emotionless robot who does what he’s told.”

  He stayed silent.

  “Do I have that right? Or have you changed? Have you fallen in love with Susan?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? She’s pretty, and she’s vulnerable. This is the perfect opportunity for you to swoop in.”

  “I haven’t fallen in love with the victim.”

  “Then why do you give a shit about her pain?”

  “I don’t. It’s just an observation.”

  “Is it?”

  He stayed silent once more.

  “I didn’t think so.” Claire crossed her arms. “There’s something going on with you. I can see that. And that’s perfectly fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with this assignment.” She took a moment and softened her tone. “Harlan, when this is over, I’ll help you assess your changes. We’ll work on this together. Until then, I need you to remain your old self. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Good.”

  She turned and resumed her route. While unlocking the door, Harlan’s footsteps tapped behind her. Another chill worked up her spine. Would Harlan grab her and stifle her screams until she went silent? Nope. She opened the door and stepped outside without incident. She then turned back.

  “Harlan,” she said. “What do you think of me?”

  “Nothing.”

  She smiled. “Had you mentioned this before, I would’ve believed you. Now, I’m not so sure. But please know that there’s a reason for what I’m doing. But everyone has a reason for what they do. I’ll bet that includes you, right?”

  He nodded.

  “I figured that was the case. I figured something extreme happened for you to become who you are. Well, something extreme happened to me as well. And I’m serious. Once we’re done with this, I’ll help you with whatever you’re dealing with. Then we can work on my stuff. And together, we’ll see if we can recover from our haunted pasts. How does that sound?”

  He let a long moment pass and nodded once more.

  “Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do exactly that. Take out Susan, and afterward, we’ll try to become human again.” She turned and headed for the stairs.

  After descending the steps, she walked back to her Acura and climbed aboard. However, she didn’t fire up the engine. She sat there looking up at Harlan’s room. Was he back on track? Maybe. Maybe not. Just in case he wasn’t, she needed to enact some safety precautions of her own.

  Chapter 28

  Susan walked out of Dr. Donna Hayward’s office. She and Dr. Hayward just wrapped up their therapy consultation, and now they headed back towards reception. The meeting took about an hour, during which Susan relayed her situation. Dr. Hayward responded with how she could assist. Susan appreciated this and eagerly accepted. That instilled an odd sensation—hope.

  “Should I just…” Susan said, as they reached the reception desk.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Dr. Hayward responded. “Jessica?”

  The receptionist looked to her. “Yes, Dr. Hayward?”

  “Susan Wright will be going on my caseload. How do my Thursday afternoons look?”

  The receptionist punched at her keyboard. “You have clients up until 3:00pm. You’re free after that.”

  Dr. Hayward turned to her. “Does 3:00pm on Thursdays work?”

  Susan nodded. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

  “Fantastic. We’ll start next week. And Jessica has your contact information. She’ll send you a reminder. If you need anything before then, you have my work cell. Feel free to call me any time.”

  “Great. Thank you very much, Dr. Hayward.”

  “You’re very welcome. I look forward to working with you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Smiles all around, Susan started for the door. While walking, her sense of hope deepened. Maybe she could recover from this.

  Susan stepped into the early morning sunshine and cut across the parking lot. She reached her BMW, climbed aboard, and narrowed her eyes. Another unfamiliar sensation took hold—hunger.

  Lately, her appetite had been sporadic. And when it arrived, it was only good for a few bites. That might have stemmed from her pregnancy, but maybe not. It could’ve been her immense stress. Whatever the cause, hunger
had arrived in force. She needed to celebrate this with an enormous breakfast.

  She got on the road and left behind Santa Monica. While heading back towards Brentwood, she scanned the street for eateries. There were numerous options, and they all seemed like winners. One restaurant stuck out amongst the rest.

  She pulled into the Starlight diner, parked, and climbed out. After heading towards the entrance, she stepped inside and approached the hostess.

  “Hi, there,” the hostess said. “Just one?”

  “Just one. And could I sit out front? I want some more of that sunshine.”

  “Absolutely. Right this way.” The hostess grabbed a menu and started walking.

  Susan followed her into the seating area along the street.

  “Is this okay?” the hostess asked, stopping at a table.

  “That’s perfect.”

  The hostess sat her down and handed her the menu. “Someone will be right over.”

  “Thanks.”

  The hostess smiled and walked off.

  Susan scanned the menu, stopping when she spotted the California omelet. The thought of bacon and avocado made her mouth water. Damn. She really was getting better.

  The waitress arrived and took her order. When the waitress departed, Susan busied herself by checking her phone. A short while later, someone approached her table.

  Susan eagerly looked up, ready to dig in. She furrowed her brow when a man sat down.

  “Can I help you?” she asked with some alarm.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said with a flat tone.

  “That’s not helping.”

  “Please. I’m not here to harm you. I’m here about your boyfriend.”

  She immediately made to leave.

  “No,” he replied, reaching out and grabbing her arm.

  “Let go of me!” she hissed, drawing some stares from the nearby patrons.

  “Please, Susan,” he continued. “I only want to speak with you.”

  She parted her mouth. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know a lot more than that. I also know that you’re in danger. But you’re not in danger from me.” He released her arm.

  “How can I believe you?”

  “Because if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t do so in public. In fact, that’s why I met you here—so you would feel safe.”

  She processed this. It made sense. “Are you working with Detective Raven?”

  “No.”

  “Then who do you work for?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  She pinched her lips.

  “I also can’t say who I am,” he continued. “Nor can I say what I do. Just know that I’m investigating the same case as Detective Raven. Also know that I believe her.”

  “Believe her how?”

  “That you’re innocent of any involvement.”

  “Good. Because I wasn’t involved. I loved Jessie. I never would’ve hurt him.”

  The man nodded.

  “So,” she went on, “do you also agree with Detective Raven about who was behind this?”

  He shook his head.

  “Seriously? It makes perfect sense.”

  “It makes sense to you and Detective Raven. But not to me. That’s because I don’t think like both of you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t experience emotions. That changes how I process information. Detective Raven reached her conclusion through emotion, specifically through intuition. I can’t do that.”

  “Then how do you reach conclusions?”

  “Through evidence. And the evidence says that you were involved. But I know killers. That’s not you. That means something else is going on. I need to find out what.”

  “To what end?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Fine. You don’t have to tell me. It’s not like I can stop you from whatever you’re doing. But why are you updating me in the first place?”

  “Because I need your assistance.”

  “How?”

  “I need your phone. I also need your cellphone provider information, your username and password for this account, and your usernames and passwords for your email addresses.”

  She leaned back slightly. “Are you kidding?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s asking a lot, especially from somebody I don’t know.”

  “I understand. Normally, I would acquire this information without your knowledge. But that takes time, and I need to move quickly.”

  “In other words, you would normally steal my information?”

  “Yes.”

  She huffed out air. “You are not making me want to work with you.”

  “Again. I understand. But that’s the truth.”

  She looked away and considered this. After a moment, she rapidly refocused. “Wait. Why do you need to move quickly?”

  He stayed mute.

  “Goddammit. You should at least tell me if—”

  “Alrighty,” said the waitress. “Here we are.” She set down the California omelet and turned to the man. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you before.” She pulled her pen and notepad. “Can I get you anything?”

  The man shook his head without looking to her.

  “Okay,” the waitress slowly responded. “No problem. If that changes, just let me know.”

  The man stayed quiet.

  The waitress put away her pen and notepad and started to leave. She stopped and looked back. “Ma’am,” she told Susan, “is everything okay?”

  Susan glanced at the waitress. She then looked back to the man. The man kept his focus on her, his eyes eerily inhuman. Susan turned back to the waitress. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. Thank you.”

  “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

  Susan smiled her appreciation. The waitress walked off.

  “So,” Susan continued, “why are you in a hurry?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Dammit. If I’m in danger, I need to know this. Am I? Is someone coming after me?”

  He hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Are you… are you serious?”

  “Yes. But I’m trying to help you.”

  She cupped her nose and closed her eyes. After a moment, she lowered her hands and refocused on him. He kept looking at her, his eyes still empty. But she could almost spot a thin thread of remorse in them.

  She huffed out more air, reached into her pocket, and pulled her cellphone. “Here.” She handed over the device. “My passwords are in my Notes app. That includes the passwords for my emails.”

  He took the phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “I’ll contact you later.”

  “Where and when?”

  “It’s better that you don’t know. I’ll just contact you.”

  She sniffed. “I’m curious as to how you’ll find me. But something tells me you can’t explain that either.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can I at least ask why you’re helping me?”

  He again stayed quiet. Clearly, he didn’t like to talk.

  “Look,” she went on, “it’s obvious that you’re helping me against your better judgement. So why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? You don’t know why you’re helping me?”

  “Honestly, I can’t figure this out. Normally, I wouldn’t have cared. But I’m starting to change.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m not sure. But I think it’s connected to your stomach pains.”

  “My stomach pains? How do you know about that?”

  He paused for a moment. “I’ll contact you later.” He rose, scooted the chair forward, and walked off.

  She continued sitting there, looking where he went. When he disappeared down the sidewalk, she refocused on her table, but she mostly stared through it.

  Damn. What now? She should ea
t. But what about afterward? Afterward, she would obtain some insurance.

  Chapter 29

  Claire observed the Starlight diner, her eyes glued to Harlan and Susan. Damn. If only she could hear what they were saying. She couldn’t, not from inside her car, which she parked across the street. Still, she could guess what their conversation consisted of—Harlan mentioning his investigative efforts, and asking for Susan’s assistance. Either way, it didn’t matter. Everything was coming to a close. She just needed to control things until then.

  Harlan stood and walked off. Susan continued sitting there. After Harlan disappeared down the sidewalk, Susan started on her breakfast.

  Claire hit the vehicle’s push-start button and got on the road. She drove passed Harlan, as she no longer needed to follow him. She already got what she wanted—knowledge about his involvements. Now she needed to deal with this.

  She tapped on the infotainment screen and dialed James. The call started ringing through the speakers.

  “Claire?” he answered.

  “Hey. I have a slight situation. Can I stop by?”

  “I’m on my way to work.”

  “It won’t be long. And I’m not far. Please, James. I need your help.”

  “Alright. When will you get here?”

  “Five minutes. I just entered Santa Monica.”

  “Okay. See you here.”

  “See you.”

  She disconnected the call.

  Five minutes later, she arrived at James’ place. She parked along the street, exited, and started up the driveway. The front door opened as she neared. James stood there wearing a dark-gray suit.

  “Hey,” he greeted.

  “Hey.”

  She reached out and hugged him, and he hugged her back. He started to let go, but she held on. She then pressed her face into his neck. James emanated surprise, his shock coming through his embrace. He quickly tightened his embrace. After a long while, they finally broke apart.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Can we speak inside?”

  “Claire, I have to get to work. I’m late as it is.”

  “Please, James?”

  He hesitated. “Fine.”

  She stepped inside and he closed the door. After walking into the living room, they remained standing.

  “I have a problem,” she said.