by Ronica Black
“Goddamn baby killer.” The words rang through her ears as she passed a group of huddled detectives. She could hear the rain thumping off their fedora hats. The sharp scent of manure was in the air. It hung heavy in the rain.
“This makes number four,” someone said. “What’s it gonna take to get this guy?”
“Goddamn baby killer,” a detective said again. “She was only nine.”
She was nine and it was her time. Kennedy didn’t know where the words came from, but they kept on. She was nine and it was her time.
She came up on the crime scene tape vibrating in the wind. She ducked underneath and saw for the first time the pale white flesh against the brown of the weeds. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. She wanted to reach down and shake the little girl awake, but she couldn’t.
She stared at her tiny nude body. At the bruises on her back. At the purple marbling that ringed her neck.
She was nine and it was her time.
The sentence played around in her head like a twisted nursery rhyme. Then she saw the note taped to the little girl’s back.
Seek and Ye Shall Find.
The wind picked up again, teasing the locks of the little girl’s hair.
Madison. Her name was Madison. She was a daughter, a sister, a student. She collected scented stickers and Beanie Babies. Her favorite movie was Annie and she knew almost every line by heart. She was someone. Someone special.
She stood and stared and wondered what horrors Madison had endured. How was she taken? Where was she kept? What all had this monster said and done to her?
And then it happened. What she knew in her gut would happen the second she felt the wind and dipped under the crime scene tape. It was what happened in every dream. And even though she was aware it was just a dream, she was helpless to stop it.
The cold and rain began to slow down, warping into a slow moving tunnel. Movement came from the weeds. Madison.
Deliberately, her head started to turn, twisting and popping until her cold lifeless eyes were fixed on Kennedy. Heart pounding and gut aching, Kennedy was frozen to the spot as Madison spoke.
“I was nine and it was my time.” She sang it, light and hearty, again and again.
Then she laughed but stopped just as soon as she started. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she said her final words.
“You didn’t find me. You didn’t find me before it was my time.”
“No!” Kennedy sat straight up, struggling for breath. She was surrounded by darkness, unsure of her whereabouts. Hurriedly, she felt around and discovered a window next to the bed. Desperate for light and air, she tugged on the string of the blinds and they slid upward noisily. She was about to open the window when she caught sight of the silver sea in the distance.
Hilton Head.
Shawn Ryan.
Taking a deep breath, she began to relax.
“Everything okay?”
Kennedy turned toward the door, which she could now make out. “Yes.” She rose from the bed and turned on the light. Shawn was standing in the doorway wearing a lightweight satin robe. It looked like a pale blue.
“Nightmare?”
Kennedy cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you.” She was a bit embarrassed, knowing that she was supposed to be the one on constant alert watching the house, not Shawn.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep anyhow.”
“No?”
Shawn’s eyes looked very clear. Like the Caribbean Sea.
“Nope.” She chuckled at herself.
Kennedy sank down on the bed and checked the time on her wristwatch. Two thirty-five.
The walkie-talkie on the night table crackled to life. Obviously they’d heard them from downstairs. A good sign.
“Herring one to Herring three.”
Kennedy swapped her wristwatch out for the walkie talkie.
“Herring three.”
“Give status, please.”
Kennedy stood and walked past Shawn to look in on the girls. Both were sound asleep with stuffed animals held securely. She checked their window and then went into Shawn’s room to do the same. All looked secure.
“Code four. Nest and eggs secure up here.”
“Ten-four.”
She returned the walkie-talkie to her nightstand. Shawn was still watching her as she shook out a pair of soft jeans.
“You wear boxers.” It was more of a statement than a question.
Kennedy glanced down at her white Hanes T-shirt and matching boxer shorts. Suddenly she felt self-conscious. What must this woman think of her in her silly sleeping attire? More importantly, why did it matter to her what Shawn thought?
“Yes, to sleep in.”
Shawn looked her up and down. “It’s nice.”
Kennedy pulled up her jeans and looked at her, unsure what to say. She hesitated in buttoning her jeans.
Shawn blinked back into reality. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude.” She palmed her forehead. “It’s just…it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a woman…a woman other than V…”
“No need to explain.” Kennedy could sense her confusion and embarrassment. She was still a little embarrassed herself. Sitting on the bed, she tugged on a pair of socks and then rose to pull on another shirt over the white one. Then she crossed back to the nightstand, stepped into her sneakers, and attached her firearm to her waistband. She also slid her phone into its normal place on the waistband of her jeans.
Shawn watched from the doorway. When Kennedy finally met her eyes again she smiled and said, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Kennedy nodded, knowing that sleep wouldn’t be returning to her for a long while. “I’d love one.”
Downstairs, after checking in with Monty and sending him to bed, Kennedy gathered her laptop and the copies she’d printed of the latest threatening letter. In the kitchen, she heard Shawn making the coffee and for an instant something fluttered in her chest as she imagined the two of them together, sharing a home and sharing an intimate morning similar to this.
But just as instantly, she shoved the thought away. Her feelings toward Shawn were growing more and more concerning. She didn’t understand them, nor could she seem to control them. She’d never felt this way about anyone before. Not since her first year of college had she even considered having feelings toward someone else. She’d always been focused on her education and then her job and then case after case after case.
She didn’t know how other agents in the BSU were able to have families and a private life. With all the traveling and the disturbing things they dealt with on a daily basis, it was miraculous that any were in any steady relationships at all.
Shawn hummed as she retrieved mugs from the cabinet. Despite it all she was somehow managing to keep her chin up.
Kennedy watched her and wondered if she was really alone because of the demands of the job. Or was it simply because she’d never met anyone like Shawn before? Someone who stirred her insides, seemed to see into her soul. Someone she would give anything to protect and make happy.
Where was all this coming from?
She thought of Keri and what she would say. “You’re alone because you choose to be alone. You don’t let anyone in because it’s safer that way.”
Kennedy examined the pages in her hands. Keri was right. That was part of it. Whatever the reasons were, none of them were simple.
Shawn Ryan definitely was not simple.
This wasn’t just another case.
“Cream or sugar?” Shawn asked from the nearby kitchen.
Kennedy rose and rounded the counter. She retrieved the milk and stirred it in herself. She thanked Shawn, who smiled.
“Thank you. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Nights are the worst.”
Kennedy offered to pour for Shawn, who nodded and slid her mug over. Kennedy understood. More than she would’ve liked to. As she poured, she said, “The darkest part of the night can be the most frightening. Heavy blackness like that, it ca
n hold all sorts of things just out of your sight. Your fears, your problems, your secrets. And there they sit and wait and watch. Hiding in that darkness. It makes it difficult to sleep and it makes it difficult to be awake.”
Kennedy took a sip of the hot coffee and then lowered her mug to find Shawn staring at her.
“Who are you, Kennedy Scott?”
Kennedy laughed, surprised. “What do you mean?”
Shawn laughed as well. “You’re something else, you know?”
Kennedy returned the milk to the refrigerator and they both carried their mugs into the living room, where they sat comfortably on the couch, Shawn on one end, Kennedy on the other.
“Why don’t you have someone special in your life?”
Kennedy took another sip and hesitated before answering. “For many reasons, I suppose.” She left out the part about how she’d just pondered the same question herself.
“Such as?”
“My job, for one. I get called away on weekends, holidays, in the middle of the night, in the middle of family get-togethers, in the middle of soccer games. And they aren’t calls to report just down the street, either. They are calls requesting my presence in Michigan, the Midwest, Georgia, Hawaii, the U.K. Instances where I’ll be gone anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks. It’s very difficult for my family, and I can’t imagine what it would be like for my partner.”
Shawn considered this for a moment, holding her mug snugly in her lap with both hands. “But I thought you were working on your own now? Doesn’t that put you in control?”
Kennedy nodded. She had a point. “You would think. But the calls still come. Take this situation, for instance.”
“I know, I feel so bad. You shouldn’t have to be here.”
“That’s not what I mean. I just meant that the call came, regardless of what was going on in my life. And when the call comes, you go. But it is somewhat nicer now that I get to pick and choose what to take on.”
“Have you had to turn anyone down yet?”
Kennedy smiled. Shawn was quick and right on her. “Not yet.”
“No one?”
“No.”
Shawn laughed. “Why not?”
“I can’t seem to say no.”
“Is that what happened in our case?”
“Yes.”
“Now I really feel bad.”
“Don’t. You really need the help and you and your girls deserve it.”
Shawn’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Again she appeared thoughtful. “You said ‘partner.’”
“Yes.”
“You are gay, then?”
Kennedy stood, uncomfortable.
Shawn clutched her forehead. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I keep crossing the line with you. I don’t know why I can’t just shut up. I’m just so thrilled to actually have someone to talk to. And you just seem to be such a mystery…” She shook her head. “I’m just pathetic, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re fine. I just, I’m not sure how to answer that.” Should I answer? Would she see right through me? Would she know that I think about her like that? Can I answer? Do I even know what the hell is going on? No. I don’t.
She cleared her throat. “There hasn’t ever been anyone in my life like that. Male or female.”
Shawn was silent for a moment. “Because of your work?”
Kennedy stared into her coffee, willing ripples to form into some kind of repetitive pattern. Something she could get lost in. When they didn’t, she leaned on the kitchen counter for some much-needed physical and mental support. “Because I didn’t have the time or the need for it.”
Shawn seemed to contemplate. “What about now? Or the future? Are you ever going to want or need it?”
Kennedy looked at her. She was staring right into her. “I don’t know.”
Normally Kennedy wouldn’t even have this discussion with Keri, much less a woman she’d met just a few days ago.
“Sometimes love comes when you least expect it. It’s not something you can control. It just happens. Much like your calls.”
Kennedy didn’t say anything. But she understood exactly what Shawn meant. A week ago she would’ve disagreed. She could always control her feelings. But not now.
“I think, if the time comes, you should give someone a chance,” Shawn said softly. “You deserve happiness just like anyone else. Regardless of your job. I just hope you don’t continue to push the world away.”
If the someone were you, I would.
A heavy silence fell between them. Kennedy’s feelings were swirling so out of control inside her. She had to focus on the case, on anything else. This woman was speaking to her. Playing the strings of her long-forgotten heart. She continued to stare right into her.
“That nightmare—”
Kennedy panicked. “Please, don’t.”
“It happens a lot?”
“Yes.”
“It was about a case, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It might help.”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know? No one should have to—”
“I don’t need any help.” She’d raised her voice and Shawn fell silent. Kennedy immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Shawn looked sad. “It’s my fault. I pushed you. Butted into your business—”
“It’s not you. It’s me. I-I can’t talk about it. It’s very difficult.”
“I understand.”
Kennedy sighed. “No, you don’t. It’s bad. Very bad.”
“The case? Or the nightmare?”
“Both.”
Shawn stared at her. “I’m sorry.”
Kennedy’s throat tightened. “Missing children. Kidnapped children.”
Shawn was silent. Waiting.
“Taken. Some of them right from their homes. Thirteen of them.”
“Were they ever found?” Shawn asked softly.
Kennedy forced her burning throat to open. “Yes. Twelve bodies. Murdered.”
“Was it the same person?”
“Yes. Forensics confirmed it.”
Shawn looked away. Covered her mouth. “That’s terrible. I couldn’t even imagine. If anyone ever took the girls…”
Kennedy blinked back her brimming emotions. She couldn’t continue to speak about it. Not right now.
Shawn seemed to sense it. She changed the topic.
“When I first met Veronica, I thought she was the most incredible human being I’d ever seen.” She smiled. “And then she spoke.”
They both laughed softly. Kennedy was grateful for the subject change. Her heart seemed to beat again as she returned to the sofa to sit. Shawn continued.
“We were young. Single. Struggling artists in New York. It was all terribly romantic.”
“You were an artist?”
Shawn sipped her coffee. “Mmm. I was a dancer.”
“Really?”
Shawn’s entire being came to life. “Ballet.”
Kennedy suddenly wished for all that background information from the Bureau. It would be nice to know more about Shawn.
“You gave it up?”
Shawn nodded. “I had met Veronica and her career started taking off. We were in love and in lust. Slowly, I started to pull away from it. I grew tired of always trying to find shows, the constant injuries. I was getting old.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Yeah. Sometimes I do.” She looked lost in thought. “But what I really miss are those early times with Veronica. She was so passionate and thoughtful. She was wild but she was completely enamored with me. It was the two of us versus the world. I thought it would last forever.” She took another slow sip and stared through the coffee table. “But then she got a movie. And another one. Soon her name and face were on the magazines. Offers came pouring in, along with the money. We bought a place uptown. I started seeing less and
less of her. I complained. She asked me to marry her. I agreed. We grew further apart. I complained again. She suggested children. I agreed. On the surface, we had the life most would kill for. But it wasn’t enough. Not for her. And now I realize, not for me either.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I wanted more. She wanted more. But what we wanted were two different things. I wanted a family. A wife and partner. Love. Peace. A happy home and the ability to raise our children in privacy. Veronica wanted fame, attention, fun, flying by the seat of her pants. And I don’t know what I was thinking. That was exactly who she was when I met her. She never changed. I just wanted her to. I guess I was thinking that since I had grown up, she would too. But what did surprise me was her change in feelings toward me. I don’t think she liked me anymore. I had grown up. I was a mommy. A homemaker. I no longer partied or ‘had fun.’ She grew bored. She sought others.”
“You’re very insightful,” Kennedy said.
Shawn looked at her in confusion.
“Most people wouldn’t be able or willing to analyze their relationship so honestly. Most want the blame solely on the other.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Shawn said. “At least not in my case. Besides, how can I ever learn from it if I just blame it all on her?”
“You’re very brave.”
Shawn scoffed. “Not really. I’m just terrified of it all happening again with someone else.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Do you think it will?”
Kennedy thought hard, Shawn’s pleading gaze penetrating her. “It could. If you follow your pattern and choose another like her. Then again, you could follow your insights and fall for someone more like yourself.”
“That was a nice neutral answer.” Shawn laughed. “Way to cover your bases, Scott.”
Kennedy’s skin burned at the sound of her name. They both grew quiet. Finally Kennedy couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“It’s difficult to change behavior.”
“For most people,” Shawn added.
“Yes.”
“Well, here’s hoping I’m not like most people.”
Kennedy had trouble swallowing. She forced down some coffee. Oh, you’re not like other people.
Needing a distraction, she turned to her laptop and the printouts. After rifling through the copies of the photos, she chose one from the security cameras at the Ryan property in New York.
