The Seeker

by Ronica Black

“Ma’am?”

  “I need to use the restroom.”

  He nodded and held the door for her. Then he followed her. The hallway was cooler and she breathed in the air, grateful for it. It soothed her lungs but it did nothing for her nerves. Her hands shook with fear.

  They reached the restrooms and he opened the door and walked in. When he returned he nodded and allowed her to enter. She headed inside and went for the sink, where she splashed her face and tried to calm herself.

  It didn’t work.

  What was she going to do? She had to do something. Should she call Kennedy? Call the Bureau? Ask them what she could do? Should she be out there helping?

  A knock came from the bathroom door.

  She sighed.

  “Coming.” She dried her face with a rough paper towel and pulled open the door.

  The security man was standing there but he had a strange look on his face.

  “What’s—”

  “Shut up.” A woman appeared from behind him. A gun was shoved into his back.

  Shawn covered her mouth, horrified.

  “Shut up.”

  The woman shoved them back into the bathroom. She dug in the man’s suit jacket for his weapon. After shoving it into the front of her pants, she pushed him into a stall.

  “Take off your jacket and shirt.” She nudged him with the gun. “Hurry.”

  He did as instructed and dropped them to the floor.

  “Turn around,” she said. “Now get on your knees.”

  She pointed the weapon at Shawn and said, “Don’t you move.” Then she gathered up the clothing.

  Shawn began to cry, and she hated herself for it. She should be strong and brave, but her mind said otherwise. She knew who the woman was. She’d seen the composite sketch and the ID photo.

  She looked to the door, thought about sprinting for it. But the woman saw her looking.

  “No, no, no. If you do that, I’ll do this.” She wadded the jacket and shirt into a ball and held it to the back of his head. Then she shoved the muzzle of the gun into it and fired.

  The sound was sharp but muffled. Like a low pop. Shawn jerked.

  The man slumped forward, a spray of blood running down the wall and toilet. Shawn’s hand flew up to her mouth. She cried into it.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  God, no.

  The woman turned. “Come on.” She waved Shawn toward her with the gun. “Hurry up.”

  She forced the gun against Shawn’s back and they left the bathroom and walked down the hall. Shawn hoped that maybe she hadn’t seen where they’d come from and she tried to walk past the door to the pool.

  “In here. Take me to the pool.”

  Shawn stopped. “No.”

  “Do it.”

  “No.”

  There was silence. “I could shoot you right here. Just like I did him. Or better yet, I’ll just go in there and shoot your kids.”

  “No!” Shawn turned. She met her hard blue eyes. Saw the chaos churning in their depths.

  The woman slapped her. Shawn cried out.

  “Then don’t fuck with me.” She grabbed Shawn by the hair and flung her toward the door. “Got it?”

  Shawn nodded, the tears coming quicker. Her world slowed as she was forced to pull open the door, gun rammed into her back.

  The heat of the pool caved in around them as they stepped inside. The other man, Keri’s security, saw Shawn’s face and ran up to her. The woman turned Shawn a little so he could see her.

  “Stop right there.”

  He slid to a stop on the wet cement. His face registered the danger and then went slack. The splashes from the pool stopped. Monty grabbed the girls and carried them to the steps. He hid them behind Larry and then did the same with the boys. He looked as terrified as Shawn felt.

  Keri began to gasp for air, shielding herself and the baby behind the lounge chair. The kids all cried out.

  “Shut up!” the woman yelled.

  The room went silent.

  The woman stepped out from Shawn and fired her weapon. The gunshot was loud and echoed throughout the tiled room. Another security man fell to the ground, blood oozing from his shoulder. Shawn winced, and her ears rang. Sobs shook her body. The woman urged her forward, yelling at Monty and Larry.

  “Don’t move! Don’t you dare move.”

  The man on the ground stirred a little but then stopped. Shawn wanted to help him but she was pushed into the lounge chair where Keri hid.

  The woman smiled.

  “I’ve got you all right here.” She looked at Keri. “What? You don’t remember me?” She held up the gun. “Are you sure?” She leaned forward. “I’m your sick, twisted fuck.”

  Keri made a small noise. Like a mouse caught in a trap.

  “That’s right. And now I’ve got you all right here.” A sinister grin spread on her face. “Welcome to the jungle.”

  *

  “Kennedy, will you wait?” Allen was once again on her heels, trying to slow her down. She’d ridden with Gale and three other agents. They’d flown to a small airport a few miles from Shawn’s hotel.

  “I can’t, Allen. Shawn didn’t answer her phone. Neither did Monty. Or Keri. Hotel security says they’re not in their room.” She hurried across the parking lot. “I’m scared shitless.”

  He caught up to her and touched her shoulder. “Kennedy.”

  “What?” She stopped and glared at him, breathless. Gale and the others turned as well.

  Allen looked strange. Almost—sorry?

  “Kennedy, I have to tell you something.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “No.” He looked to Gale. She looked at the ground.

  “Will someone tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  Allen squeezed her shoulder. “The prints we ran from that envelope? They matched the prints on the table at the Williams house.”

  “Okay, so?”

  “We got a hit.”

  She waited. “They were Ashley’s.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Allen, what—”

  “Kennedy, her name isn’t Ashley. Her name is Abigail Perry.”

  “What—” And then it hit her. Her hearing completely left her.

  Allen spoke but he sounded far away. “Kennedy?”

  Then suddenly she was back and everything was on high speed.

  “She’s Abigail, Kennedy.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “It is.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “No it’s not.”

  “She—it can’t be. She—”

  “Was never found. The only one never found. It’s her, Kennedy. Abigail Perry. Missing eleven years. Blond hair, blue eyes. Type O positive. Taken from her own front yard.”

  “I—”

  “You need to sit down. Let us go in. I’m sure Shawn is fine. No one knows she’s here.”

  Kennedy refused. She shook her head. “I’m okay.” She walked ahead. Gale studied her.

  Kennedy kept going. “We have to find Shawn and Keri.”

  “She’s after you too, Kennedy. Why else would she be after Keri?”

  But Kennedy pressed on. They entered the hotel and drew their weapons. People saw them and hurried out of their way.

  Allen headed for the elevator.

  “Hotel security says they might have gone for a swim,” Kennedy said, turning toward the indoor pool. As they jogged down the hall, a woman emerged from the distant bathroom. She was screaming.

  “We’re too late,” Allen said. “She’s here.”

  Two agents flanked the door to the pool. They nodded. One kicked and the other covered. They caught a glimpse and retreated.

  “Suspect is armed,” one said. “Standing directly at twelve o’clock.”

  “Is there a back way in?” Allen asked. “We’re on it.”

  “They’re all in there,” Kennedy said to no one in particular. “Everyone I love and
care about is in there right now.”

  She looked to Allen. “I have to go in.”

  “Not without cover you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He tried to stop her but she went anyway. Gun in her right hand, she opened the door and stepped inside. She flinched slightly when she saw Abigail, expecting a barrage of bullets. But the woman had moved and she now held Shawn, gun trained at her head.

  “You’re more clever than I gave you credit for, Agent Scott. For years you had your head up your ass but now all of a sudden, you’re on to me.” She grinned. “Took you long enough.”

  Kennedy stood very still. Monty and Larry stood in the pool, faces ashen but set in stone. The kids were on the pool steps behind them. They were crying, but very softly.

  “You outsmarted me, Abigail,” she said, studying Shawn, wanting to run to her and take her in her arms. Then she saw Keri holding Natalie tightly. Tears were streaming down her face.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, you outsmarted me.” She held out her hands, a peace offering. “Abigail.”

  “My name’s not Abigail.”

  “What is your name, then?”

  Behind her, Kennedy heard more agents enter the room. Abigail backed up, frantic.

  “Stop! Hold it right there! I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her just like I did your other man.”

  Kennedy saw a man down to Shawn’s right. He wasn’t moving.

  “Your so-called security is a laugh.”

  “What do you want, Abigail? Tell me what you want. You’ve got our attention.”

  Agents surrounded the pool. The SWAT team came in through the back door.

  Abigail began to panic, walking backward with Shawn.

  It was too much. Kennedy wanted to tell them all to back off.

  “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her!”

  Kennedy stepped forward. She dropped her gun. “Slow down, just slow down.”

  “No. No. You back off, you all back off.”

  She tightened her arm around Shawn’s neck. She pushed the gun into the side of her head. Shawn tried to speak but couldn’t. She stared at Kennedy, mouthed the words I love you, and then a shot rang out.

  Agents dropped to the ground. Kennedy did as well. She dove for her gun. SWAT guys ran for Shawn, who lay on the ground along with Abigail. There was blood.

  “No.” Kennedy stood and ran to her. The men surrounded Abigail. Shawn was pulled up. She was bleeding. She fell into Kennedy’s arms.

  “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

  “You’re shot.” Kennedy searched desperately for the wound.

  “It’s not mine. I’m not hurt.” She hugged Kennedy tighter. Then she pulled away and ran to her girls.

  Abigail was disarmed and rolled onto her stomach. The wound was in her back but she was alive. SWAT members held her down. And the man who had been shot and lay motionless on the floor got up. He stared at his gun and dropped it.

  He was the one who’d fired.

  Agents ran to him and helped him out. Sirens wailed in the distance. Kennedy hurried to Keri and hugged her tight. They both cried. They kissed Natalie. The boys ran up from the pool. Kennedy squeezed them so hard they protested.

  Then she caught Shawn’s gaze. “Veronica?” she asked.

  Kennedy nodded. “She’s going to be okay.”

  *

  FBI Field Office, New York City

  “Allen, I love you, but I hope like hell I don’t have to see you again anytime soon,” Kennedy said, leaning back in a chair. She linked her fingers behind her head as he laughed.

  “I understand.”

  They sat at the same conference room table, files and notebooks neatly stacked. The lights buzzed overhead. Nearby agents laughed. Kennedy smiled. She actually felt like laughing herself.

  “You going to be okay?”

  “I think so. I really think so.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  She pressed her lips together in thought. “You know, I have no idea.”

  He chuckled. “Ever think you’ll come back?”

  “To the Bureau or to the job?”

  “Either.”

  “I might…if a case calls. But I need to heal. And I need to heal properly.”

  “It’s been a lot to take.”

  “Yes, it has.”

  “But you know none of it was your fault. You know that, right? I know we’ve been trying to beat that into your head, but will you ever accept it?”

  She contemplated her answer. “I don’t know.” She dropped her hands and sat forward. “You saw her. Heard her. Jesus Christ, Allen, he kept her for years. Molested her. Filled her head with nonsense. Kept her in a damn hole in the ground.”

  “Yes.”

  “He brought new ones home, made her take care of them when he was gone. Made her tend to them and pacify them. Tied them to that chair down there where she slept.”

  “It was horrible, Kennedy. There’s no denying that. But it’s not your fault.”

  “Isn’t it, though? If we’d found her—”

  “We didn’t.”

  “But if we—”

  “We can’t play what-if, Kennedy. I mean, what if he’d killed her? He killed the others.”

  “That’s another thing,” she said softly. “She would’ve almost been better off dead.”

  Allen cleared his throat. “What happened, happened. We can’t change it.”

  Kennedy felt like crying. “She sat down there. Sat down there and looked at the magazines he bought for her. She lived through them. Lived for Veronica. For years.”

  “She can get help now,” he said. “Real help.”

  “And then the obsession with me. He told her I was a demon. I was out to destroy what they had and what they did. That I was against God. She believed him. Tried to kill my family, for God’s sake.” She shook her head.

  “She was completely brainwashed. She didn’t even know that he had killed the others. She thought he just took them home.”

  “I’m not sure she knows now. We’ve told her, but her mental state… It will take years to get her thinking straight. Years. Maybe never at all.”

  Kennedy blew out a long exhale. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t see how she was hurt.”

  Allen rose. “It’s over, Kennedy, finally over.”

  She nodded. The DNA from the letters matched up. Abigail had confessed to it all.

  “But she still hates me,” Kennedy said.

  “She hates us all.”

  Kennedy stood to follow him out.

  Epilogue

  One month later,

  Hilton Head, South Carolina

  Shawn pedaled leisurely down the winding bike path through the pine forest. The girls followed close behind, Rory on her purple bike with white wheels and Kiley on her pink one with training wheels.

  The wind blew and she inhaled deeply. The path led them past one of the island’s numerous posh golf courses. The day was pleasantly cool and beautiful and the trees thinned out as they continued along, the path leading to the thick dunes and eventually to the ocean. She stopped her bike and the girls fell in behind her, walking their bikes through the sand.

  “This sand’s hard to ride in,” Kiley said. She grunted as she pushed on her bike. “Look how strong I am, Mommy. I’m pushing it all by myself.”

  “Yes, I see that. It must be all that milk you drink.”

  Once they hit the firmer, wet sand, the girls climbed back on and resumed their afternoon biking adventure, this time riding near the lip of the water. Shawn smiled after them, enjoying the sea breeze. She thought back to the last few weeks.

  Upon Veronica’s release from the hospital, they’d sat up all night long at the house in Scarsdale talking and crying. Veronica had been shook up and surprisingly honest, telling Shawn she loved her but she couldn’t love her like she needed. She’d faced death and she knew the right thing to do. She wanted to do right and she wanted to do right by Shaw
n. So they’d decided to go their separate ways, and while Veronica hated that, she also confessed that she needed for Shawn to find happiness.

  The separation had happened slowly, mainly so the girls could gradually adjust. She had taken her time packing and she’d thought hard about where she wanted to live. Veronica had helped. She’d come to her quietly one evening, handing her a large envelope full of legal forms. She had given Shawn and the girls several million dollars. Through tears, she’d smiled and urged Shawn to find the home of her dreams. She’d also promised to always look after the girls financially. Shawn agreed to let Veronica have visitation. She could see the girls whenever her busy schedule allowed it. Veronica had thanked her.

  Out of all the years she had known Veronica, she’d never seen her so humbled, so sincere, and so devastated. The kidnapping had changed her. Truly changed her.

  Shawn offered to be there for her, but Veronica politely declined. She’d said Shawn had suffered enough. She found her solace in the arms of Marion Grace. The two were seriously seeing each other. Shawn liked her. She seemed down to earth and understanding. Just what Veronica needed.

  She walked on, content with hearing her girls giggle as they rode their bikes through the dunes. She loved this island, and she had purchased a house on the beach three weeks ago, winning shrieks of joy from the girls. She felt at home here, and relaxed. But as she walked into the breeze she glanced at the sea, knowing that something was missing. The island brought her warmth and security and comfort, but it didn’t bring her what she longed for. Love.

  The sea churned gently, sending its waves of greeting gliding toward shore. She stopped and stared, almost wishing that the water would bring her what she truly wanted. It had been a few days since she had last spoken to Kennedy. They spoke frequently, but Kennedy had been busy, closing up the investigation, making sure it was tied up from every angle. While Shawn had missed her, she had failed to tell her how she truly felt. After the shoot-out with Abigail, she’d retreated a little, a little uncertain about bringing it up with all that Kennedy had to face.

  She was in love with her, of that she had no doubt. But was Kennedy in love with her? Would she want a life with her and the girls? She longed for her presence. Wanted her. Needed her. Ached for her. And now they were free to be together. Truly free. So what was she waiting for?