Seals of Kinney

by C G Dalton

  “I know you think I’m losing it.” Fisk had a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. “But he was standing on the corner when I pulled back into the parking garage. By the time I got out of the car he was gone.”

  “So that’s why the food is cold, and you took so long?” Boyd asked, almost succeeding in making it sound like a joke. Doubts flooded his thoughts, and guilt for thinking them only compounded his poor mood. What would he do if Colwin was chasing the ghosts in his head? Was he becoming unreliable? Boyd had looked. After the first time Fisk insisted McMare was there, he had honestly kept his eyes open. But Boyd had not seen hide nor hair of the other selkie.

  “I’m not crazy,” Fisk asserted quietly. “His nose is ruined. There is a great big white keloid scar that runs diagonal through his left eyebrow, over his nose and down his right cheek.”

  “Sounds nasty,” Boyd agreed. The topic thankfully changed as a small crowd filed into the room and began grabbing food cartons.

  {{{

  A third week passed, and Boyd was even more worried. Everywhere they went his lover was looking over his shoulder. They were sitting on their deck, looking out over the Bay, watching the sunset.

  “Fisk, you haven't been in the water in ages. Back in Kinney didn’t you spend more time as a seal than a man? Don’t get me wrong, you know I love to look at you like you are. But isn’t that bad for you, don’t you need to put your skin on every so often?” Boyd questioned, watchingColwin as he stared out nervously across the bay.

  Fisk didn’t even bother to point out the head bobbing above the gentle waves. He knew it would slip under the surface if Boyd looked. “I’m okay,” he murmured, though the deep circles under his eyes belied his assurance.

  Boyd considered phoning Francine.

  {{{

  “Francine? It’s me, Cyril,” he spoke quietly into the phone. It had been hard finding a moment away from Fisk to make the call. A couple days had passed before he got himself alone in a deserted hallway at work and made the call.

  “Cyril, hi. I’m on set though. We are between takes, but I can’t really talk long.” Francine had put her time in Hollywood to good use, gotten talent-scouted and landed a couple high profile acting roles. Boyd was just thankful he and Fisk still had her private number.

  “Just give me a few minutes of your time. I’m worried about Fisk,” Boyd said quietly, eyes darting down the hall to be sure he was still alone.

  “Oh my god, Cyril, what’s wrong. Did McMare find you?” Francine asked, panic suffusing her voice.

  “Fisk thinks he saw him. I haven’t, but he says he has,” Boyd offered, only mildly surprised that the girl had leapt straight to that conclusion. She had always feared reprisals more than they had.

  “He was here. In Hollywood. About a month ago. Oh god, I am so sorry. I should have called. But I know you already think I’m paranoid, and I thought I might have imagined it. I just told my manager I had a stalker and the studio got me a security team. I am sorry.”

  Boyd couldn’t really be annoyed with her. Not when he knew he and Fisk had actually been dismissive of her panics after they had first fled Kinney.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Do your guards know who they are looking for?”

  “Yes. I did a sketch. It’s mostly from memory, but I added the big scar.”

  “Did you say scar?” Boyd was cringing. A feeling of being a monster for doubting his boyfriend’s sanity mentally slapped him in the face.

  “Yes. It must have been from when we ran him over. It runs kitty-corner right across his face. Messed his nose up bad.”

  “Thanks, Francine. You keep yourself safe, alright?” Boyd cautioned. “You call us if you need anything.

  “Thanks, Cyril. I appreciate it.”

  {{{

  They were in the car heading home when Boyd broached the subject. “I called Francine today,” he informed his partner, glancing Fisk briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

  “Oh? How is our favourite starlet these days?” he said, sarcasm bleeding into his words.

  “Fisk—”

  “To what end, Boyd,” he interrupted, “...what did you achieve?”

  “She saw him too,” Boyd admitted. “He was out there watching her about a month ago. Her studio hired a security firm, so I assume he decided he couldn’t get close enough to her. Too high profile maybe.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “She mentioned that scar. Described it just like you did,” Boyd shared, wishing the hardness would leave Fisk’s voice.

  Fisk sagged in his seat. He had known he wasn’t seeing things. He had no idea why McMare allowed Fisk to see him and not Boyd. Was he trying to drive a wedge between them? If so, it had halfway worked. Not to mention the toll it had taken on Fisk’s nerves. He had spent the better part of the last month afraid to go in the water, afraid to sleep, and afraid Boyd believed he wasgoing insane. “So now you know I’m not losing my mind.”

  “I never said you were,” Boyd offered apologetically.

  “It seemed implied,” Fisk murmured. He had been avoiding reacting to the hurt that caused him, because he’d been unable to prove what he was seeing to Boyd. Now that he was vindicated, he wanted his lover to know the doubt was painful.

  Boyd pulled the car over, turned to Fisk and reached for his hand. He didn’t even try to justify his prior worries. They had more concrete concerns, so he just wanted to make amends. “I am sorry, so sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you and I swear I won’t do it again. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I just want to keep you safe.”

  Fisk took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love you, and…apology accepted.” He leaned across the space between them to press a kiss toBoyd’s lips. “I love you too.”

  When they arrived home, Fisk fetched his last letter from his mother and handed it to Boyd to read. “She hardly ever writes back. But she thought it was important to give me advice on this.” He crossed his arms over his chest nervously as Boyd read the note.

  My Dearest Fisk,

  Never let your guard down or he will kill you. I was quite dismayed to learn that he was following you, but I cannot say I am surprised. Even though you fled, you bested him after a fashion. You and your man defied his authority and left him broken. You undermined his status as the dominant bull. To regain the lost respect, he will do anything. Undoubtedly Dawsonwill continue to hunt you until he has destroyed you and proved his superiority once again. This will not end until one of you is dead.

  Part of me wishes that when I sent you away to school, you had never returned to Kinney. I had hoped you would not. But I know if you had remained on the mainland you would not have been there to meet Cyril. I take solace in that.

  Watch your back and guard your mate.

  Love,

  Mom

  The closing warmed Boyd’s heart even if the whole of the note terrified him. “She thinks you have to kill him. You can’t just kill a cop. Not even if he is stalking you. We should talk to Captain Davidson...”

  “No, Cyril. We can’t say anything to Davidson. Do you really want to try and explain why the Sheriff of my hometown is here stalking us? Make no mistake, that is what he is doing. Hunting. He’s just waiting for the right moment. Me getting in the water where he can come at me freely. Or the night we forget to set the security system.”

  “We can’t just kill him, Fisk.”

  “I’m not going to actively go after him. That would be unethical from a human standpoint and, frankly, probably suicidal. But we have to be prepared to defend ourselves if necessary.”

  “Fair enough. But even if we get backed into a corner, killing him is a last resort. You might spend half your time resembling one, but we are not animals.”

  Fisk just nodded his head.

  {{{

  Two nights later, right around dusk, Boyd came out of the bathroom to find Fisk peering through the almost closed blinds of their bedroom window.

  “Ba
be?” Boyd asked, coming up behind him and putting his hands-onFisk’s waist.

  “Don’t open the shade any further, if he sees any movement he will disappear. Just look over my shoulder.” Fisk nodded at the small gap he’d made in the window covering.

  Doing as he was asked, Boyd peeked. He gasped, then held his breath. The setting sun clearly backlit the large, dark head facing their home about forty feet off their shore. “Fuck,” Boyd murmured, feeling the charge of fear that Colwin had been running on for weeks and hating the sensation.

  “Yes,” Fisk murmured. The timer switched on the security lamps, flooding the darkening yard around their home and deck with light. The figure in the water dove.

  Boyd ground his teeth as the huge seal turned over and disappeared, seeming to mock them with a flip of its tail flippers. “I really can’t stand that guy.”

  Fisk snorted, spinning and kissing Boyd fiercely. They tumbled into their bed and made love with an intensity that, while amazing, worried Boyd. He didn’t like the fact that it felt as though it was a desperate act committed in case they never got another chance to share this. It made him lie awake thinking long after his lover was asleep.

  {{{

  “Boyd, Colwin, can I have a word?” Davidson asked shortly after they arrived at work, though it wasn’t really a request. With nervous looks between them, the pair complied.

  As they entered his office, Davidson waved them towards seats, waiting for them to get comfortable.

  “Are the two of you alright?” Davidson asked. “I don’t want to pry but Colwin, I noticed recently you look as though you’ve had no sleep, and now today I see you are dragging too, Boyd. I’m not the only who noticed. Everyone is worried about you both.”

  “It’s nothing. Really. I’ve been suffering some insomnia and last night my tossing and turning kept Boyd awake,” Fisk answered, too quickly. Davidson frowned.

  “Fisk, we can trust Davidson,” Boyd told his lover, frowning when Fisk shook his head no. “Trust me. Trust him. Please.”

  Heart speeding up from fear—not knowing what or how much Boyd wanted to reveal—Fisk thought about it a moment. When it came down to it, he did trust Boyd. And his coworkers were more like family than he’d ever had back on the islands. He nodded yes rather hesitantly. “Yes, okay.”

  “There is a guy in town from Kinney, Maine, which as you know is Colwin’s hometown. We’ve seen him around a lot. Too often to feel like a coincidence. He made life hard for Fisk when he was growing up. He is a total piece of shit. Having to deal with him being around hasn’t been easy on us.”

  “Do you feel threatened? We could have him checked out,” Davidson offered.

  “We both definitely feel like he is a menace,” Fisk said quietly. “But you aren’t going to find anything on him. He’s a cop.”

  “How do you want to handle this? We could have him picked up for questioning,” Davidson offered. “That might scare him off.”

  “For what, bumping into us in public? He hasn’t done anything that would let us prove a stalking charge. Yet,” Boyd replied.

  “Yet being the operative word? If you have any problems, you come to me with them. Understood?” Davidson insisted.

  “Yes, sir,” Boyd said, Colwin echoing the sentiment with a nod.

  {{{

  When they climbed into their car to head home, Colwin turned sideways in his seat to address Boyd. “Thank you for not telling Davidson the whole truth.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, Fisk. You should know I’d never share that. But he knew something was up and I wanted to clue him in.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if that bastard steps foot in our home he won’t walk out on two feet,” Boyd said with quiet intensity. “It helps establish a history in case we find ourselves having to resort to self defence.”

  “Oh,” Fisk murmured. That should have been obvious, but lack of sleep and stress were clouding his mind. There was a confrontation approaching and it worried him to the bone.

  {{{

  Boyd and Colwin came out of the supermarket, arms laden with a week’s worth of shopping. They were happy and laughing about the good outcome of their last case, at ease after a job well done. But the laughter died on Boyd’s lips, and Colwin walked into him when he stopped suddenly.

  “Boyd,” Fisk said quizzically, stooping to pick up the bag that had slipped from his fingers and hoping it wasn’t anything breakable.

  “Hello Fisk, Agent Boyd,” McMare said smoothly. He was leaning on a row of unused carts, casually smug, the look on his face saying, ‘I know I make you nervous’. The thick scar made his features that much crueler in appearance.

  “What the hell do you want?” Boyd barked, setting down his bags, hands balling into fists.

  McMare asked, “Not happy to see an old friend?”

  “You were never a friend, McMare. Go home,” Fisk stated firmly.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you. Francine too. I can’t imagine why you are so unhappy to see someone from home,” the intruder saidsarcastically. “That girl has more security than the president. A person might get to thinking they were unwelcome, and that could go badly. You never know what might happen when you turn your back on where you come from.”

  Boyd realized the other selkie was just baiting them. If he was going to come at them it wouldn’t be in a public scene. He grabbed the shopping bags.

  “Do like Fisk suggested, McMare. Go home. No one wants to see your ugly mug here.” Boyd smiled tensely at Fisk. “Come on, babe.” He walked away towards the car.

  Fisk gave McMare one last glare, facing him down eye to eye, not allowing the island sheriff to intimidate him—at least not visibly—before turning to follow his lover. He went after Boyd, not even sparing a glance back when McMare called after him.

  “You shouldn’t have left, FiskColwin. Nothing good will come of it. You can’t survive away from home. Francine, maybe, but not you,” McMare barked in a gruff and angry tone. He had not enjoyed the taunt about his ruined looks.

  Ignoring him, they put their groceries in their vehicle and left.

  {{{

  The couple did not see DawsonMcMare again for weeks. Though still wary, they began to relax their hypervigilance. They did not want to live day to day worrying about when he might appear and what he might do. They were relieved when some digging around and tracking of his travel itineraries let them know he had returned his rental car and flown home.

  {{{

  A movement caught his eye in the back window and Boyd was instantly there looking out. He let out an exaggerated sigh when it wasn’t what he thought. “There is a puppy in the backyard. Looks like it might be hurt. Gonna bring him in,” Boyd called out to Fisk, who was in the den reading.

  “What? Wait,” Colwin called out, dropping his book and lunging to his feet, a feeling of dread overcoming him.

  Boyd didn’t hear; he was already in the yard, striding down to the water’s edge, calling out to the wet and limping dog.

  “Hey, buddy. Did someone try to drown you? People really suck,” Boyd said softly as he hunkered down to stroke the small dog’s head, and frowning when it flinched away and whimpered. “Easy, little guy, I won’t hurt you.” He was taken almost completely off guard when the enormous, sleek form erupted from the water beside him. Boyd reflexive dodged, carrying the puppy he had instinctively grabbed with him.

  He was not quite fast enough. Huge jaws clamped onto his calf, tearing into the muscles. McMare used the hold to drag Boyd back toward the water.

  Boyd thrust the puppy away from him and grabbed desperately for anything to hold onto. His arms wrapped around an old piling on the water’s edge, the remains of an old dock long ago replaced. Kicking at the leopard seal’s face with his free foot, he screamed for Fisk.

  A shot rang out and McMare reared back and roared, freeing Boyd, who, oblivious to the pain, scrambled away from the water.

  Another shot splintered the air, then a
nother and another as Fisk emptied his clip into the seal, who tried in vain to escape into the bay. Shaking, Fisk stood on the shore and watched as McMare rolled over and foundered, sinking slowly into the depths. Colwin didn’t move, still watching the water for any disturbance, even after the neighbours rushed out of their houses and sirens could be heard in the distance. Not until Boyd called out to him.

  “Babe, he’s gone, it’s okay. You got him,” Boyd assured his lover, one arm cradling the injured puppy, the other held out to Colwin. “You got him.”

  {{{

  It was a long night after that. Thinking quickly, Boyd concocted a story of being attacked by an enormous dog that had wandered into their yard. That it had been mauling him when his partner had come out and opened fire on it. The lack of a blood trail other than Boyd’s got chalked up to Colwin being a poor shot. They lied, claiming he had missed the animal and it had fled.

  It was decided by the local officers not to press charges against Fisk for discharging a firearm in a residential area given the gravity of the wound Boyd had suffered. Which required quite a number of stitches, closing rents in his calf muscles as well as repairing the rips in his skin.

  Colwin remained by Boyd’s side for the forty-eight hours he was kept in the hospital. They both endured the teasing of their friends and co-workers when they arrived to visit. Gentle mockery about Boyd getting bitten and Fisk missing the dog.

  When they went home, even though Boyd was supposed to stay off his feet, he insisted on limping down to the water with Fisk at dusk. He watched as Fisk stripped and then shrugged into his skin. Though he obviously preferred his lover’s human guise, it was a relief to see his selkie again.

  Fisk dove, searching the murky waters of the bay for signs of his foe. Even though he knew what he might find, he was still startled when he found the large, lifeless body on the muddy bottom. Popping back to the surface, he nodded in the affirmative to Boyd who was waiting on the dock.