by Ronica Black
“Mommy, look!” Kiley exclaimed. “Treasure!” She held up her hand. It was full of tiny shells and chocolate coins.
“Wow,” she said, kneeling to greet them both. “Looks like you guys are having fun.” She kissed their windblown faces, inhaling the salty scent of their hair. This was a moment she would remember always. She hadn’t had many of those recently and it surprised her a little.
“Kiley found the treasure that Captain Kennedy hid,” Rory reported.
“Yeah, and now it’s ours! We’re the good pirates.”
Shawn looked up, suddenly curious about Captain Kennedy. As if on cue, Kennedy approached from close to the dunes. The woman Shawn assumed to be her sister walked with her. Both had on jeans that were rolled up just like Rory’s and Kiley’s. Two little boys sprinted past them, hurrying to a destination unknown. They also wore bandannas and rolled-up pants. One held up a toy sword and swore vengeance on the bad pirates.
Shawn smiled at them as they kicked up sand and bolted by her.
“Please excuse them,” the woman next to Kennedy said. “They’re focused on treasure.” She held out her hand and gave a warm smile. “You must be Shawn. I’m Keri. Keri Boudreaux.”
Shawn returned the smile, noting just how similar Keri looked to Kennedy. The boys, too, looked like their aunt. “I’m Shawn Ryan, and I see you’ve met my two girls.”
“Gosh, yes. What cuties. The boys are smitten.”
Shawn watched as the four children gathered over something of interest in the sand. “It looks like the girls are too.”
“They are,” Kennedy said. “They’re having a great time.”
Shawn studied Kennedy in her jeans and flowing white blouse. It was unbuttoned fairly low on her chest and open at the wrists. She also had on a bandanna and large earrings. Shawn didn’t know whether to laugh with amusement or openly drool. She was breathtaking standing there like that, facing the wind and sea, caring for her children so openly. Tears actually formed, her emotions so raw and overwhelming. She was like an open book—all anyone had to do was take the time to read. She forced herself to calm down and thankfully Keri helped.
“Thanks so much for welcoming us. We really appreciate it.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. Sounds like we all need some time away.”
“You mean away from the wackos?”
Shawn laughed. “Yeah.”
“They sure seem to be in full force lately.” She looked off toward the sea and hugged herself, visibly shaken. The humor had vanished quickly and Shawn knew exactly what was going through her mind.
“Hopefully things will quiet down,” Shawn said softly. “For all of us.”
Keri seemed to relax a little, the fresh sea air probably helping. “I hope so.”
“Are you all settled in the house?” Shawn asked.
Kennedy sank her hands into her jeans pockets. “They’re all moved in. It’s smaller than the one you’re in, but it will do. At this point smaller is better. Easier to watch.”
“So you’re staying with them, then?” Shawn hoped the disappointment wasn’t too evident in her voice. Of course Kennedy would stay with Keri and the boys.
Kennedy watched her closely. She seemed to sense the disappointment.
“I hope you don’t mind. Monty and—”
“It’s fine. No need to explain. Really.”
“We’re close together. With all of us on the lookout we should be fine. Two men came with Keri and we’ve still got Monty and Larry and Phil.”
“I’m sure we’ll be okay. I trust you.” She held Kennedy’s gaze for a long moment. She did more than trust her. She wanted to fall into the security of her embrace.
“Auntie Kenny!” The boys came running up, cheeks red, hair blowing in the wind. “You have to come find the treasure.” His pirate hat had Landon embroidered on the front. He tugged on Kennedy’s hand.
“Yeah, we hid it and now you find it!” the other one said, jumping up and down. He pointed back toward where Rory and Kiley stood. The girls bounced on their feet, excited as well. The wind carried their laughter.
“Okay, but I need a shovel. Can I borrow yours?”
“No.”
Kennedy bent and grinned. “No?”
The boys started to run. “Uh-uh.”
“What do you mean, ‘uh-uh’?” She reached out for them and purposely missed. The boys laughed harder as she chased after them.
Shawn and Keri watched, standing in the cool sand.
“She’s so good with the kids,” Shawn said.
“Yes, she is.”
“My girls have really taken to her.”
“I’m not surprised. Somedays the boys refer to her as Mommy number two.”
Shawn smiled. “I can believe it.”
They were silent as the kids helped Kennedy dig in the sand. The ocean churned and hissed, rhythmic, sliding up onto the sand and then slipping back out. She could stare at it endlessly.
“How has she been?” Keri asked, looking at Shawn with concerned eyes. They were golden brown, just like Kennedy’s.
“She’s been good, I think.”
“Quiet?”
“Yes.”
“Intense?”
“Yes.”
“Lost in thought a lot?”
Shawn blinked. “Come to think of it, yes.”
Keri looked at her feet as she kicked at some sand. “I worry about her.”
“I think she worries about you too.”
“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
Kennedy called out as she found the treasure. She held it up in the air. It was a toy truck. The boys ran in a circle around her while the girls hopped with excitement.
Shawn couldn’t help but smile. There was such joy there at that moment.
“I didn’t think she would be like this,” Shawn said.
“Like what?”
“So caring. And I don’t know, soft? Especially with the kids.”
“Why not?”
“I guess because of her job. All of the horrible things she’s seen. I expected her to be uptight and detached. You know, one of those by-the-book people.”
“I think in some ways she is. But not with children. Children are her soft spot.”
“She told me about the missing children case,” Shawn said. “Told me some of it.”
“That case has nearly killed her. It will forever eat away at her. Until one day, there’s nothing left.”
“That’s so sad.”
“It is. She blames herself. I don’t think anything will ever make it easier for her. Not even if they found him. The damage has been done. Although I would love to see that bastard get what he deserves.”
“Doesn’t it scare you? Realizing that there are people in the world like that? It terrifies me. I don’t know how Kennedy handles any of it.”
“Me neither. What little she would tell me gave me nightmares. And that case…the kids, finding them dead…and then the harassment.”
“Harassment?”
“The killer wrote to Kennedy.”
Shawn blinked. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, no. He did it for years. Since the first one turned up missing.”
“Oh my God.”
“The last letter came about three years ago. She hasn’t heard from him since.”
“They couldn’t get any evidence from the letters?”
“Not much. No prints, no DNA. Just one or two sentences. The same verse that was found on the bodies. ‘Seek and ye shall find.’”
Shawn felt dizzy and a bit sick. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“Well, Kennedy thinks it means many things. Me, I just think the guy’s a kook. He’s a game player and the children were his pawns, Kennedy his opponent.”
“What a nightmare.”
Keri nodded. “It was. I’m just glad he stopped. Kennedy says he’s dead. Because even if he were incarcerated, he wouldn’t be able to resist writing her.”
“Let’s ho
pe she’s right.”
“Whatever happened to him, I can’t help but hope it was horrible.”
Shawn closed her eyes, her imagination running wild. She said a silent prayer, thankful for her children and their safety. She prayed their security would last. And finally, she said a prayer for Kennedy and for all those poor souls who never made it home safely.
*
Nyack, New York
She sat in the car rubbing her cold hands together. She had no heat and it felt like it was freezing out. The old car barely ran and she was grateful for that much. Surprisingly, she wasn’t as cold as she should be. Her adrenaline warmed her, hot liquid energy running beneath her skin. The house behind the gate fueled that adrenaline.
It was time to claim Veronica as her own once again.
A quick glance at her watch told her she had ten more minutes. Something flickered in her chest. Excitement? Laughter? Nerves? It was so easy, really. Too easy. Sloan was actually expecting her. People were so stupid.
She studied the house and thought of the Ryan mansion. She had been inside it too, many times. She knew almost all there was to know about Veronica Ryan and her home, from the children she had with Shawn to the names of their pets to what side of the bed she slept on.
She smiled as she remembered waking Veronica on that winter afternoon months ago. She had been there to clean the house, a one-time-only job, and Veronica had fought getting up out of bed. Shawn had yelled for her countless times to no avail, and finally she’d given up and told her to go on in. Carefully, she had crept in, carrying her dust cloth and the vacuum cleaner. She could recall every detail, from the way the room smelled, like plumeria, to the color of the cream carpet, to the way the sunlight poured in through the tall windows, tiny particles dancing in the rays. The room was large and open, with vaulted ceilings and thick crown molding. Expensive artwork hung on the walls, but that hadn’t interested her. No, what had interested her were the two half-empty bottles of Fiji water on the night table. The bottle of Tylenol PM. A small stack of fashion magazines, a box of Kleenex, and a small plastic container. The other night table held an alarm clock, two paperback books, and a large framed photo of the children.
And then she’d heard it. The groan. The lump on the left side of the bed stirred. Veronica.
There.
In the bed.
“Go ahead,” Shawn had encouraged her. “She needs to get up anyway.”
“No, I don’t need to get up!”
The feather duvet flipped off a head of dark hair. A pinched face appeared. Angry. It was glaring at her.
“Have you no respect?”
She’d nearly jerked. Veronica was speaking to her. Addressing her.
Shawn spoke, moving around the room, tidying up.
“Get up, V. For God’s sake, it’s three o’clock.”
“I’ll get up when I’m damn good and ready.” She jerked the covers over her head and flopped back down.
Shawn said again, “Go ahead.”
So she had. She turned on the vacuum and began cleaning, much to Veronica’s dismay. She wasn’t even halfway through the room when Veronica threw back the covers once again and hopped out of bed. The plastic container on the night table was gobbled up by her hands and opened. Then, with her thumb and forefinger, she dug in her mouth and removed a fitted clear mouthpiece. She placed it in the container and snapped it shut. Then she looked at her.
“Who the hell are you?” Her oversized T-shirt barely covered the tops of her thighs.
The sight had left her momentarily speechless and she’d just stood there staring, holding the running vacuum cleaner. Agitated, Veronica had stomped off to the bathroom, stripping out of her T-shirt along the way.
She continued to vacuum, but left it frequently to try to peek in on Veronica. When she saw steam emerge from the open bathroom, she walked to the night table and opened the container. The mouthpiece was fitted almost perfectly to Veronica’s teeth, probably to protect them from grinding. Saliva glistened where it rested toward the bottom as she held it up for examination. She smelled it. Caught the lingering scent of Veronica’s breath. Then she extended her tongue and tasted. The cold saliva had seemed to shoot right through her, exciting her beyond belief. Veronica. It was Veronica. Her very essence.
She wanted to run her tongue deeply inside the mouthpiece, lick out every last drop of saliva. Move it around in her mouth. Taste it, relish it. Then swallow it down to be hers forever and then place the piece inside her mouth and suck on it. Feel it slide into place over her own teeth. Yes, this was perfect.
Quickly, she’d glanced back toward the bathroom. Then she’d shoved the mouthpiece into her pants pocket and closed the empty container before returning it to the night table.
She glanced at her watch again. Almost time. She thought back to her most prized possession. She wore the mouthpiece every night. Slid her tongue over it again and again until she fell asleep. If she tried real hard she could still smell Veronica, taste her.
Shuddering, she huddled herself in the roomy driver’s seat. The car was big and old and she loved it. The vinyl seats were cushy and worn and she liked the way they smelled. She enjoyed digging into the cracks to rub the insides. She’d even found a piece of candy corn. Yes, this car was special. Hopefully, she’d be able to keep this one for a while.
She stared at herself in the mirror. She wondered what people would think about her if she was ever caught. More than likely they would think she was sick, some pervert who was obsessed with Veronica Ryan. But she wasn’t like that at all. She wasn’t a man, she wasn’t driven by sex. She was driven by love. Couldn’t people see that? She would never harm Veronica Ryan. Only those people who were bad for her. Someday Veronica would see what she’d done for her. Someday she would see that they were meant to be together. In the meantime she had to keep doing what was right. She had to rid Veronica of these bad women. And since she couldn’t find Shawn, she would have to deal with Sloan.
She looked at her watch again.
It was time.
*
Hilton Head, South Carolina
Kennedy headed into the master bath to check the window locks. She’d already been through the entire house, checking all the locks again upon waking. All was secure. Turning to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her cheeks had a redness to them and she rubbed at them, confused. It was as if she were in a state of permanent blush. Her face always felt hot, especially anytime she thought of Shawn.
As she walked away from the mirror she realized that she had never been in a situation like this before. Not just in regard to finding herself attracted to someone on assignment, but in general. No one had ever stirred her inside before. The feeling was as new as it was frightening.
Frustrated, she approached the window in the master bedroom and looked out at the beach. She saw Shawn walking with her girls, making their way through the thick sand. The girls twirled happily around, swinging their sand buckets through the salty air.
Shawn Ryan was a very beautiful woman with wonderful kids. But she was married. Maybe not happily, and it would probably end in divorce, but she was married nonetheless. There was pain evident in Shawn because of that marriage. Both physically and emotionally. Kennedy could see it in her walk, slow and unsure. In her shoulders, the way they slumped. In her eyes, the ache filling them in a heavy fog. There was pain. And Kennedy wasn’t about to complicate things further.
She headed downstairs. She could smell toast and she found Keri standing at the kitchen counter making a bottle. Natalie sat strapped into a bouncy chair, cooing and sucking on her fingers. Kennedy kissed her forehead and inhaled her warm baby scent. Natalie smiled.
“Good morning,” Keri said.
“Morning.”
“Sleep well?” Keri’s tone indicated that she knew otherwise. Kennedy decided to answer carefully.
“Off and on.”
“Uh-huh.”
Keri shook the bottle and took it to
Natalie, who clutched it eagerly.
“Did you happen to hear the boys?” Keri asked, smoothing down her terry-cloth robe.
“They’re still out. I peeked in on them.”
“They were beat.”
The boys usually rose around seven. But yesterday had been long, with the flight and then playing on the beach for hours. They needed the sleep.
“What about you? You look beat.”
Kennedy stared out at the beach. She could see Shawn hugging herself against what must be a crisp sea breeze. Kennedy gazed to her left and right. Larry and Phil were a hundred or so yards from her, one on either side. It relaxed Kennedy a little.
Shawn hugged herself tighter and bent a little. Then she staggered. At once Kennedy wanted to go to her, to hold her close, to warm her heart and soul. But she fought the urge and Shawn got her bearings and straightened. Kennedy could feel Keri looking at her.
“What’s going on, Ken?”
“Hmm?” she continued to watch Shawn, concerned.
“With Shawn Ryan.”
Surprised, Kennedy turned to look at her. Keri had her hands on her hips. She was serious.
“How do you mean?”
“How do I mean? I mean are you sleeping with her?”
Kennedy reared back, shocked. Were her feelings that obvious?
“You know me better than that.”
Keri’s face was overcome with surprise. “Oh my God. You want to.”
“What?”
“Yes. You do. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t tell me I was crazy. You want her.”
“Cut it out, Ker. I would never do anything like that.”
“I know. But you want to. Oh my God.”
“Will you quit saying that?”
“You’re in love with her.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just doing my job.”
She was starting to grow defensive.
“I know you, Kennedy. I know you better than anyone else on this planet. And I can see it in you. And I can see it in her.”
