The Seeker

by Ronica Black

  “I need you to tell everyone I’m not involved.”

  “That’s the FBI’s job, not mine.”

  “But you know I’m not!”

  “I don’t know anything, Sloan.”

  “They’re still following me. They’re taking my picture, searching my house. Everyone stares at me like I’m some, some killer.” She tugged at her hair. “God, I just can’t take it.” She looked around, paranoia evident on her face. “They’re probably here now. Watching from a distance. I can’t go anywhere. Do anything.” She fingered her eyebrow piercing. Tugged on it in a painful looking way. “I need it to stop. I need this to stop.”

  She stared at V like a desperate little mouse begging a hawk for its life. She blinked profusely, fingered her hair again.

  “What are you on?”

  “What?” Sloan narrowed her eyes.

  “You’re high.”

  Veronica quickened her pace.

  “Fuck you. I’m dying here, V. Going insane.”

  “Go home and go to bed.” Was anyone watching? RoboCop was close behind. It comforted her a little.

  “I can’t! I won’t!” She stopped and held her head. Then spoke softer. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” She jerked her head around. “They’re watching me. They’re in my house planting bugs, looking for drugs. I think they found my crank and switched it out with something else.” She blinked again rapidly. “I just, God, I fucking hate you.”

  “You’re still upset. That’s what this is all about.”

  “You think so? I guess being stalked by the FBI does that to a girl. Or maybe it was having my house thoroughly searched that got to me. Oh, no wait. It was that tiny story in every major tabloid. Yes, that was it. That did it. Not to mention the fact that every human being alive looks at me like I’m a killer.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Sorry? Fuck you, V. This has been a nightmare.”

  “We had to be sure you weren’t involved.”

  “We? What are you, an agent now? How could you even think I was involved? After what we shared—”

  “I don’t know you that well, Sloan,” Veronica interrupted without emotion. “We messed around a little, that’s it.” She had to make this clear. They weren’t going to be all buddy-buddy.

  “Messed around?” she whispered angrily. “It was way more than messing around. It was the best goddamned sex I’ve ever had. And I know you felt the same.” She expressed the latter part loudly, causing Veronica to look around hurriedly, hoping no one heard. But thankfully the set was huge and most folks were just doing their own thing.

  “I miss you,” Sloan said.

  Great. Not this again. Veronica sighed with impatience. How had she not seen this coming? Who knew this sassy little punk rocker would’ve been so goddamned needy? She had to take care of this. But not outside.

  They slowed their walk as they approached the trailer.

  “I don’t have much time,” Veronica said quietly. “Come on.”

  RoboCop spoke up.

  “Ms. Ryan, we have been instructed to—”

  “No. I want to speak to her alone.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t allow that,” he said, almost as if he knew he would regret it.

  “Try and stop me.” She threw the door open and walked inside. The trailer smelled brand new and there were three vases with fresh flowers arranged inside. The little fridge would contain bottled Fiji water, Diet Sierra Mist, and Perrier, along with plenty of salad and fresh fruit. The bed would be made with 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets and the carpet would feel soft and lush on her bare feet. She suddenly couldn’t wait to sit on that bed and just relax.

  Sloan was ruining everything.

  She told RoboCop to give her five minutes. Then she closed the door and looked to Sloan.

  “Now, what do you really want?”

  “I want you to tell these guys,” she motioned with her hands, “to back the fuck off.”

  “I can’t do that. They’re up my ass too. Now, what else? Really?”

  Sloan pulled at her hair and glanced nervously out the windows. Her face seemed to quiver, especially her lips.

  “I miss you.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  “I do. I can’t help it. God, can’t we just go back to like we were?”

  “No. It’s over, Sloan. Move on.”

  “How can you say that? How can you be so calm?”

  “Sloan. It’s over.” She walked closer to her. She could smell the strange odor coming off her body. Like weed and something sour. “Go away.”

  A quick knock came from the door just before it was pulled open. Flo entered.

  “I brought you your coffee and blueberry muffin.” She set them on the table. “Am I interrupting?” She smiled at Sloan. They knew of each other but had never formally spoken. She played it up. “I’m a huge fan. And that new video of yours is hot.”

  Sloan smiled slightly and fingered her piercing. “Thanks.”

  “You’re very talented.”

  “Yes, she is. She was also just leaving.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll leave you to your good-byes, then.” She gave a wave and exited the trailer, leaving the scent of her perfume swirling in the air behind her.

  “I see you’re busy as always,” Sloan said staring after her.

  Veronica didn’t respond.

  “So how long have you had her?”

  “Long enough.”

  Sloan laughed. Everyone knew Veronica couldn’t keep assistants. Her moods and fiery temper kept the turnover rate high.

  “I give her another week before you either fuck her or scare her off.”

  “Thanks for the optimism.”

  “You’re never going to change, are you?” She stared at Veronica with contempt. It almost oozed from her pores.

  “I’m not your concern.”

  “No, you aren’t anyone’s concern, are you? You just do what you want when you want.”

  “Did you really come all the way out here to win me back?”

  Sloan’s entire body shook. “Yes. I mean, now that Shawn knows, why can’t we be together?”

  “Shawn is my wife, Sloan.”

  “You don’t love me?”

  “No.”

  “Do you love her? Because if you call that love—”

  “It’s not your business.”

  “If you love her so much, then why did you cheat? Why do you cheat? You’re—”

  “You’re absolutely right, Sloan. I need to focus more on my family.”

  A knock came from the door as RoboCop pulled it open.

  Sloan laughed again at Veronica’s words. But before she walked out she faced her and pulled her in for a deep warm kiss. When Veronica didn’t fight it, she lingered just a moment and then pulled away. Her face was flushed and her gaze full of wickedness and pain.

  “If it’s one thing I know about you, V, it’s that you can’t give all this up. All this glitz and glamour, all the women. You can’t. It’s in your blood.” She walked down the steps and gave her one last look. “It’s who you are. It’s who you’ll always be. Good luck.” And then, without another word, she walked away.

  *

  Hilton Head, South Carolina

  Shawn leaned back in the lounge chair, grateful for the warm sun, even if it was covered in haze. She let it soak into her skin and hoped it would somehow seep into her bones. She felt dead inside. Deader than dead. Like there was nothing left, not even her organs, much less her cells.

  She watched her girls splash in the pool. It was heated and they were happy, playing with Monty in the shallow end. Rory had on Swimmies and Kiley had on a life vest. Both were dog-paddling, grins on their faces.

  In the distance the sea churned onward, waves collapsing and sweeping up onto shore and then retreating back out. It just kept on and on, despite all the craziness and heartache in the world. Just like the beating of her heart. It continued on, almost as if mocking her.

 
; She closed her eyes behind the protection of her sunglasses. She still felt groggy from her drug-induced sleep the night before. She’d gone forty-eight hours without much sleep or food, and Kennedy had finally insisted on her taking something. Two Xanax later, she’d fallen asleep and hadn’t awakened until noon.

  Kennedy and Monty had cared for the girls and she was grateful, promising to make them dinner sometime soon. As soon as she felt like it. As soon as she felt like living again.

  Her shoulder ached dully as she removed the sling and tossed it aside. She’d promised to let Kennedy look at the wound. She’d also promised to eat something and take better care of herself. She had yet to do either. But she was about to.

  From the sliding glass door, Kennedy emerged, carrying a plate and a glass of iced tea. With a smile, she handed both to Shawn and then sat next to her.

  Shawn thanked her and noted that Kennedy was back to wearing her dress slacks and a button-down shirt, firearm attached to her belt. Shawn decided she looked striking in anything she wore. She looked at her and decided to be frank.

  “I’m filing for divorce.”

  Kennedy didn’t even blink. “Okay.”

  “I called my lawyer and it’s settled. He’s drawing up the papers. It will be released to the public the day after tomorrow.”

  “You’re sure, then?”

  “After those tabloids? Do you even have to ask?” The articles had been devastating to her. Both in content and presentation.

  “Not only did she cheat on me, but she’s been abusing drugs too? She told me she gave that up years ago. I can’t have that around my kids.”

  Kennedy rested her elbows on her knees and linked her hands together. “They’re tabloid stories, though. You know you can’t count on them to be a hundred percent truthful.”

  “No, but I can count on Agent Douglas. I called him before I spoke to my lawyer. He confirmed it all to me. He also confirmed the other women. The numerous other women. She’s been cheating since before we wed.”

  Her voice cracked on the last statement.

  “Mommy, are you okay?” Rory asked, climbing from the pool.

  “Yes, I’m fine, my love. Come here.” She waved her over and kissed her wet cheek and lips.

  “Where’s your sling?” She stood dripping, arms out wide from the orange Swimmies.

  “I don’t need it anymore.” It was a slight fib, but she didn’t want her to worry. “Go swim, sweetie. I’m okay.”

  Rory smiled and waved at Kennedy. “Look, Kennedy, I’m gonna jump from here!” She curled her toes around the pool deck and bent strongly at the knees. Then she jumped as high as she could into the water.

  “Good job,” Kennedy said as she surfaced, clapping. Rory coughed and grinned.

  “Very good job,” Shawn said, proud. Her girls were so happy here. And they adored Kennedy almost as much as they did Monty, if not more.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear all that,” Kennedy said softly, watching as the girls continued to play.

  “I needed to hear it. It was the only thing that would get me to leave. I could and have forgiven her so many other times over many different things. But this—this is too much. I’m just not enough for her. Neither are the girls. We aren’t enough.” She fought back the burning tears and toughened up, as she promised herself she would do. “I always knew and suspected, but actually hearing it from a reliable source, it’s, I don’t know, life altering. I can honestly say that I’ll never ever be the same. I’m changed. I’m different inside. And I know it sounds crazy but I almost want to laugh. At the craziness of it all. At realizing that I have never truly known her. That all of it, all of it was a façade. Just something to amuse her.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Do I have a reason not to?” She paused as she thought. “She said she loved me and maybe in her way she did. Maybe that’s all she’s capable of. But love means more to me than that. And now I’m going to laugh, because you know what? I’m done. It’s done. No more. I’m not going to have to deal with her anymore. No more worrying, second-guessing, questioning her, begging her for her presence. Nothing. And that feels good.”

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  Shawn knew Veronica had called the house several times wanting to talk to her. But she had refused. She’d also deleted her e-mails without reading them.

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should. Just to hear her out.”

  “To forgive her and take her back?”

  “No. Just to hear what she has to say about it. I know what she did was wrong. And very nearly unforgivable, but she had her reasons, warped as they may be. People behave the way they do for reasons, whether they be serial killers or liars or cheating spouses. Something drove her.”

  “What, me?”

  “No,” Kennedy said softly. “I’d be willing to bet that Veronica had a traumatic childhood, especially in regard to her parents. One was probably neglectful or absent, and the other may have been overbearing and poor at showing affection. She wasn’t shown a whole lot of attention, or love. So she seeks it now. And can’t seem to control herself in order to get it.” Kennedy looked out toward the girls, to make sure they were out of earshot. “I’d also guess that she’s probably suffered some sexual abuse, probably at or soon after puberty. And this person probably showered her with attention and material things. She learned early on that sex and being sexy would get her the attention she craved.”

  Shawn listened quietly and her heart rate began to slow. Kennedy was right on many points. “Maybe so, but lots of us had bad childhoods and went through terrible things. That doesn’t give us the right to do whatever the hell we want.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But it does explain a lot. Veronica herself probably can’t explain why she is the way she is. It’s probably very confusing for her. And she probably does feel some remorse at having hurt you over it.”

  Shawn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “I’m not trying to upset you.”

  “You’re not. She is. All you’re doing is making sense. Which is what you’re good at. But I’m just not in the mood for calm logic and sense right now.”

  Kennedy chuckled softly. She sat back in the chair and squinted up at the sun. “I understand.”

  “You’d think after all this time of her always being gone and my always questioning her whereabouts…you’d think this would be easier. That I should be able to shrug it away and say, ‘Oh well, not much is going to change.’”

  “It will get easier. The pain will dull with time.”

  She thought for a moment and clapped again as Rory did a trick off the steps. “I wish I could believe you, Kennedy Scott.”

  Chapter Six

  Lafayette, Louisiana

  “No, I’m fine, just a little tired,” Keri said into the phone to her mother-in-law, Miss Norma. “We took the kids to the rodeo today and had a good time. It was the first time we really have gone out as a family for more than an hour. And now I’m making Natalie some bottles. She started on formula yesterday.”

  She walked into the kitchen and retrieved two bottles from the cupboard.

  “Sha, baby. I can’t wait to see her tomorrow.”

  “I know, she misses her grandma too.”

  The house was quiet with the distant sound of cartoons coming from the living room where Tom and the boys lay sprawled out on the thick shaggy rug and soft sofa. They were all tired and tanned from their earlier adventure.

  “How’s everything else?” Miss Norma asked her. “You doing okay without Kennedy?”

  She dished out the formula with the tiny plastic scooper and tapped it into the water in the bottles.

  “For the most part. Everything’s been real quiet.”

  “Good. You know me, I worry. And I get up and check those deadbolts three times a night.”

  Keri laughed. “I know the feeling. I’m just now starting to sleep the night through.” After screwing the lids bac
k on the bottles, she held the nipples tight and shook them, then placed them in the fridge. Natalie was down for a nap but would be up at any moment.

  “Tom leaving tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” She hated it when he had to go, but this year it was especially difficult. “He’s missed a lot of the summer training, but the team’s been very understanding.”

  “You gonna be okay?”

  “I think so. Kennedy’s encouraged me to stay here with the kids. Our new security team will be with me and this house isn’t publicly listed. She seems to think we’ll be okay here. And hopefully, she’ll be home soon.”

  “Well, if you need anything, you know where we are.”

  “I do. And thank you.”

  “No need, sugar.” Keri heard her sip from a drink. After swallowing she said, “You heard about Miss Clarice?”

  “Miss Mary’s friend? No, what?”

  There was a click and Miss Norma’s voice was clipped. Then she came back.

  “Oh shoot, that’s her now. Let me call you back later?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. Bye, sugar.”

  “Bye.”

  Keri ended the call and set the phone down. She ran a hand through her hair, then poured herself a glass of ice water. As she sipped it she saw the stack of mail on the counter and flipped through it. Most were junk and she quickly tossed them in the garbage and placed the obvious bills in their place over the little desk near the corner. Then, grabbing the remaining one, she headed toward the living room with her water. She opened the envelope addressed to Mrs. T. Boudreaux with little bubbly feminine hearts drawn around it. Then she fished out the paper and opened it.

  Her breath rushed from her lungs and her glass fell and shattered on the tile. A cry escaped her. Tom sat up and rushed to her. The boys followed but Tom kept them back from the glass.

  “What? What is it?”

  With her hand shaking, she showed him the paper and sank down, letting out a terrified cry.

  She watched as Tom hurriedly read the letter. It was written in red, dark red. Smeared and thick, wrinkling the page. Blood. At once she’d known what it was and who it was from. Words like “gut” and “rip” and “miss you” and “is the baby out of you now?” told her all she needed to know.