The Seeker

by Ronica Black

  Veronica stepped up to place a kiss on the woman’s cheek in a move that suggested it was somewhat forced and false, Veronica merely staking her claim in Kennedy’s presence.

  “This is the woman the FBI told us about.”

  “Kennedy Scott,” Kennedy offered.

  “Shawn Ryan,” the woman said, reaching out for Kennedy’s hand.

  Her hand was slight but warm, her other arm in a tight sling. She gave Kennedy a small smile but Kennedy could tell it was genuine by the ease in which it spread. Shawn was somewhat shorter than Veronica, with a slight but strong build and delicate features. Her hair was cut short and bleached blond, accenting her face. But what really drew Kennedy in were her eyes. Sparkling blue-green sapphires looked out at her, luring her in. Kennedy found herself staring and the realization caused patches of heat to rise to her face. She cleared her throat and forced herself to glance back at Veronica.

  Kennedy didn’t understand her reaction and felt more than embarrassment. Straightening her spine, she forced the confusion to the back of her mind and focused on doing her job.

  “You wanted her, and I got her,” Veronica said, puffing out her chest as if she were indeed very proud of this feat. “Your very own FBI agent.”

  Kennedy corrected her. “Former agent.”

  “Oh,” Shawn said softly to Veronica. When she looked back at Kennedy she smiled again, searching Kennedy with silent questions. But there was an immediate difference in how the two women looked at her. In Shawn there was no need for dominance, no flash of hungry ego.

  “You’re very welcome here,” Shawn said. “I hope you’ll be able to help.”

  There was only warmth and sincerity.

  Kennedy nodded, grateful, and watched as Shawn leaned a bit on Veronica. It wasn’t an affectionate gesture, but one of necessity. It was evident in the way she grasped at Veronica’s jacket and winced. And as Kennedy saw her hand begin to tremble, she almost took a step to go to her, to help her into a chair.

  “She’s still weak,” Veronica said, wrapping a protective arm around Shawn.

  Kennedy took a closer look and saw, for the first time, the dark shadows under her eyes. She also noted the paleness of her skin, the weakness in the way she moved.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kennedy said, feeling a fool. “I didn’t realize you were still—”

  “I’m not,” Shawn said. “I mean, I’m not as bad as I look.” She laughed a little and touched her temple. “I just got a little dizzy is all.”

  Kennedy still had the strange urge to help her, to take her gently by the hand and lead her to a couch or even a bed. She blushed again profusely as the thought of Shawn and a bed played around in her mind.

  “You look a little warm,” Shawn said, this time looking directly at Kennedy. “Should I turn off the heat?”

  Again Kennedy cleared her throat. “No, that’s not necessary.” She touched her eyebrow with the tip of her index finger just as she had done for years, trying to get hold of herself. She had never reacted to anyone this way before. Why now? And why the wife of a famous actress, a client in need, no less?

  Kennedy felt her entire head rush with heat as her mind wandered to what Shawn would look like if filled with want and passion, the heated desire for another. Emotions she herself had never felt.

  She pressed harder on her eyebrow and looked to the floor. Focus, focus.

  “Agent Scott?” she heard Shawn ask.

  Kennedy raised her head and dropped her hand. “Please, call me Kennedy.” She could literally feel her skin burning. And at that moment she hated the total loss of control she was feeling. Maybe it had been too long. Maybe she should’ve come back to work sooner. Or maybe not at all.

  “Kennedy, okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Suddenly she was very thirsty. Maybe some ice water would do her good. “Could I have some water, please?”

  “Of course,” Shawn said, turning to walk to the fridge. Kennedy went to go after her but Veronica saw her and beat her to it, halting Shawn with a hand on her elbow.

  “I’ll get it, honey.”

  “Thanks.” She turned back to Kennedy just as a man carrying a leather satchel walked in from the neighboring room. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear as he voiced a good-bye. Flipping it closed, he eyed them all and gave Shawn a concerned smile.

  “You should be resting, Shawn, remember what I said.”

  “I’ll make sure she does,” Veronica said, wrapping a possessive arm around Shawn’s waist after handing Kennedy a cold bottle of water.

  “Make sure you do,” he said, noticing Kennedy.

  Shawn immediately voiced an introduction. “Kennedy Scott, this is Dr. Cornwall.”

  “Ms. Scott,” he said with another nod, one which Kennedy returned. He returned his phone to the holder on his belt and then tugged on his navy blue and yellow striped tie. His face lit up as he looked toward the stove. “I will leave you ladies to it, then, as soon as I get one of those cookies.”

  “How ’bout three or four?” Shawn asked. Veronica grabbed the plate full of freshly baked cookies and offered it to him. Dr. Cornwall grinned and took three. He took a generous bite from one and tipped it graciously at Shawn. “Take care, now.”

  “I will.”

  He nodded politely at Kennedy and headed for the door.

  The dogs trotted eagerly after him, on major cookie alert.

  “V,” Shawn said, seemingly noticing the dogs for the first time. “Why are they in the house? They’re supposed to be outside, watching the grounds.” She called them away from the door and affectionately patted their heads when they returned to the kitchen.

  Kennedy watched her, completely captivated, and noticed that despite her weakness and injury, she was in very good spirits. It only further impressed her.

  “I’m assuming they came in with Agent Starling,” Veronica said, her sarcasm going far from unnoticed.

  “Yes, they did,” Kennedy said. If I’m Starling, who does that make you? Hannibal Lecter?

  Shawn seemed puzzled.

  “They followed me in,” Kennedy explained, finding her arms crossed over her chest. She knew it was a subconscious gesture on her part and she knew it was for protection from these two women. But for very different reasons.

  “I wanted to see how difficult it was to gain entry into your house.” She looked from Shawn to Veronica, and where before she saw a hint of egotistical hunger, now she saw a cold, jealous stare, chilling Kennedy to the bone.

  “And apparently it wasn’t very hard, right, Agent…er, Kennedy?” Veronica asked, her voice laced with sharp ice.

  Kennedy tried to regain her composure. They were both causing such dramatic swings within her, shaking her up, causing her to question her own ability to remain detached. Something she absolutely had to do to effectively work a case. Clearing her throat, she eyed her watch. “I made it inside in less than four minutes.”

  “Oh my God,” Shawn whispered, swaying a little at the harsh realization.

  Veronica squeezed her tighter, steadying her. A look of anger creased her brow. “Kennedy, if you don’t mind, my wife needs her rest.” After a rude glare, she focused her attention back to Shawn. “Come on, honey, go lie back down on the couch—”

  “If you don’t mind,” Kennedy interjected, her own anger surfacing, “I need to talk to both of you.” I need to do something, anything to get me refocused on why it is that I’m here.

  Veronica straightened at the firm request, a rod of anger erecting her back. She shot daggers her way, obviously not used to people countering her directions.

  “It just so happens I do mind. My wife has just been shot, practically killed, and——”

  Kennedy’s heart rate kicked up, Veronica’s words igniting something within. She didn’t understand why, but the actress was seriously rubbing her the wrong way when hundreds of criminals had tried but failed to do so.

  Kennedy decided to be blunt. “It will hap
pen again.”

  “What!” Veronica whispered with anger, while still trying her best to lead Shawn back to the couch.

  “I said, it will most likely happen again.”

  “And just how the hell do you know that?”

  “It’s my job to know.” Kennedy at once felt relief at the focus of the case returning to her mind. “I haven’t read the threats yet, but from what I do know, this wasn’t an accident, Ms. Ryan.” She glanced from the angry face of Veronica to the striking yet soft face of Shawn. “The shooter was aiming to kill. He won’t miss twice. The killer only shot once, not at the entire crowd, which says a lot about his motive. From what we do know about the trajectory of the bullet and where it originated from, the shooter could’ve shot you point-blank in the head, Ms. Ryan.” She looked to Veronica. “When you approached some fans at the police barrier, the shooter was right there, on that side of the crowd. So it’s safe to assume that your wife was the target, not you. He nearly succeeded in shooting her through the heart.”

  Her own heart pained at the fear she saw wash over Shawn’s face. She continued, needing to drive her point home. “He has to be more than a little upset that he missed.”

  “Are you sure?” Shawn asked, obviously afraid.

  Veronica looked to Shawn and her face reddened at Kennedy’s words. “Shawn is trying to heal, she doesn’t need to hear this—”

  Kennedy countered, her voice lowering with intensity. “You asked for me and you got me. I left my family to come help you.” Her throat tightened at her own words. She spoke sternly and with conviction, doing her best to keep her anger somewhat harbored. She knew if she was going to work this case, she needed Veronica to hear and respect her. “I’m here to help you. I need to be honest and straightforward with the both of you. Not just you.” Her gaze traveled over their faces before she continued. “Shawn is a part of this just as much as you are, if not more.”

  There was a brief silence, the clinking of the distant piano keys long faded.

  Eventually, Shawn nodded in understanding. She glanced at Veronica, who stood staring Kennedy down with obvious defiance.

  Kennedy noted the look from Veronica and felt her anger try to surface again. “And another thing. For all you know, I could be the shooter. You haven’t asked for any ID and yet I’m the one who penetrated your security and walked right in.”

  The blood drained from both their faces and Veronica removed her hand from around Shawn. She took a step toward Kennedy and then halted, fear showing itself for the first time on her face.

  Relief washed through Kennedy at finally having reached her. Now she could get down to business, and quickly, because she had a feeling this more reasonable side of Veronica wouldn’t last for very long. “Who’s running your security?”

  “Monty,” Veronica replied.

  “Get him in here. I want to talk to all of you before nightfall. That is,” she paused, wondering herself, “if you still want me here?” She aimed the question first at Shawn and then at Veronica. Veronica nodded reluctantly while her hand returned possessively to the small of Shawn’s back.

  Veronica spoke, softer but with determination. “We’ll talk in the living room so Shawn can lie down.”

  Kennedy agreed, worried for Shawn herself. She’d grown very quiet and she trembled ever so slightly. They both jerked in surprise as a loud clamor came from the staircase in the foyer. The patter of feet meeting wood floor soon followed as two little girls came running into the kitchen.

  “Mommy, look!” The taller one threw herself against Shawn’s leg and looked up at her with a huge grin. “I did my makeup and Kiley’s too!” The shorter one eyed Kennedy and stopped to put a finger in her mouth and twist her foot in a bashful gesture. She lowered her head and then tilted it to the side, lipstick smeared around her mouth and blue eye shadow caked along her eyelids, with some glitter mixed in for good measure.

  Kennedy smiled faintly as thoughts of her nephews filled her mind. The girls seemed to be about the same age as the boys. Both were blond and under the age of six.

  “Yes, look at you,” Shawn said with a forced strength that caused her voice to tremble. She ran her hand through the older one’s hair. “Good job.”

  “I was gonna do yours, Mommy, but Kiley ate the rest of the lipstick.”

  “Oh, no. Good thing it was safe for little kids, huh?”

  The older one nodded firmly. “Uh-huh. ’Cuz Kiley’s a little kid and she doesn’t know any better.”

  Kennedy smiled.

  Shawn saw her and smiled as well. Veronica, on the other hand, stood still, staring her down with a cold, brick-wall kind of look. Impenetrable.

  “Girls, turn around, there’s someone here I want you to meet,” Shawn said. “This is Kennedy.”

  The girls looked up at her with curious gazes. Then, to her surprise, the taller one approached. She held out her hand and in a practiced, confident voice she said, “I’m Rory Ryan, nice to meet you.”

  Kennedy couldn’t help but chuckle as she took her tiny hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Rory, I’m Kennedy Scott.”

  “That’s my sister, Kiley,” Rory said, turning to point at the smaller girl, who now stood clinging to Shawn’s leg. “She’s shy.”

  Kennedy waved and Kiley waved back, but then she quickly turned and shoved her face into Shawn’s pant leg. If Shawn was worried about makeup getting on her pants, she didn’t show it.

  Rory continued with introductions, pointing to the dogs who panted next to her. “This is Noche and that’s Día.”

  “Night and day, very cool. Who named them?” Kennedy asked.

  “I did!” she said proudly. “But Mommy helped.”

  She placed her hands on her hips and Kennedy noticed her one missing sock and painted toenails. A frilly princess dress was tugged over a T-shirt and purple corduroy pants, as if they’d been playing dress-up. “Noche is a good boy ’cept when Mommy makes a turkey. He tries to pull it off the counter and eat it. Oh, and Día, you have to be careful because she eats crayons and then poops different colors.” A strange look came over her for a moment and she tilted her head and looked back toward the stove. Then, just as quickly as the conversation had started, it ended.

  “The cookies are done!” she shouted. Racing to the stove, she licked her lips and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yummy, yummy, yummy.”

  Kiley quickly joined her, trying her best to peer over the stove. Veronica held out the plate for them.

  “Not too many,” Shawn said. “They haven’t had dinner yet.”

  “Oh, they’ll be fine,” Veronica said.

  Shawn started to protest but then seemed to remember Kennedy and she let the argument go.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Ryan?” a male voice called out from near the front door, causing them all to turn. “There’s an FBI agent at the gate wanting entry.” A large man entered, and Kennedy took in his giant muscular frame and sharp crew cut.

  “I’m already here,” she interjected, curious to interact with the Ryan family’s source of security. “That’s former agent, to be exact.” She held out her hand and offered a smile. “I’m Kennedy Scott.”

  He took it a bit hesitantly but then tightened his grip. His smile was crooked and forced and she could sense that his uneasiness outweighed his curiosity. She couldn’t blame him, of course. This was his turf, after all.

  “I’m here to help,” she said, hoping it would ease the building tension. He dropped his hand and scratched his scalp. Kennedy noted the lack of an earpiece, visible firearm, or radio.

  She hoped he’d just arrived to work and hadn’t yet armed himself for security, but she knew it was probably wishful thinking.

  Seeming to sense the growing tension in the air, Shawn spoke up. “Girls, why don’t you go back upstairs and continue playing. We have some grown-up stuff to do down here.”

  Rory chomped noisily on her cookie, as did Kiley.

  “Okay, Mommy.” Rory took Kiley’s hand and led her
out of the kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Kennedy Scott.” She grinned a chocolate chip smile.

  Kennedy returned it. “You too.”

  “Kennedy, this is Monty. Our head of security,” Veronica said.

  “You have a last name?” Kennedy asked.

  “Hessinger. Why is your driver still at the gate?”

  At least he was somewhat perceptive.

  “I came in on my own,” Kennedy said. “To see how easy it would be to get in.”

  His face fell and then reddened.

  “And I’m sad to say it took me less than four minutes to gain entry to the house.”

  A vein stood out on his forehead. “I’m sure had we known you were here, that could’ve been prevented.”

  “Well, whoever is threatening this family won’t just walk up and announce themselves. Nor will they sit out there and wait. They will move in just like I did.” She held his gaze, driving the point home right away. “How long has the call box been out of service?”

  “Since Sunday, when all your people started showing up.”

  “Why hasn’t it been fixed?”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “I told him it could wait,” Veronica said. “There were other pressing matters at the time and I told him it could wait until later in the week. The gate still worked and—”

  “I can’t imagine what could be more pressing than your safety,” Kennedy said. She held up a hand when Veronica started to tell her just what was more important. “Never mind. It’s later in the week now. Have you called to have it repaired or replaced?”

  Monty answered. “I called this morning.”

  “I hope you also requested some cameras for the property as well.”

  “I have.”

  She sighed. “Good. Who works with you?”

  He hesitated, clearly not enjoying having to answer her. “Two other guys.”

  “They have names?”

  “Yes.”

  “Write them down for me along with their training and backgrounds and then call them in later for a meeting.”

  “What for?”

  “For the sake of your jobs.” Her voice was strong, thick with the seriousness of the situation. Security at the Ryan household was far worse than she could’ve imagined. Especially since her main job here was to profile the attacker, not to play bodyguard. But if she was going to help, she was going to help in every way she could. And help, it seemed, was something this family desperately needed in order to be safe.