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The Seeker

Page 25

by Ronica Black


  “Aside from the furniture, we found magazines. Hundreds of them. Some with missing words, some with missing pages. They date back to the early eighties. Dozens of them had writeups on Veronica Ryan. But the articles were missing.”

  Kennedy arched a brow. Allen brought up another photo. It was the bedroom.

  “We found most of those missing articles and photos here.”

  The walls of the bedroom were covered.

  “My God.” Kennedy approached the screen. Each wall was covered in photos and articles, all of them of or about Veronica Ryan.

  “The ceiling too,” Allen said, showing yet another photo. “And the bathroom. Even in the shower. Especially in the shower. They were hung on the shower walls, up away from the water. Even on the ceiling. Some were literally falling apart, wet pieces of them caught in the drain.”

  Kennedy stared at the screen.

  “But there were none in the living room?”

  He changed the photo again. Brought her back to the living room.

  “Not anything like the other rooms, no. There were marks on the wall from where thumbtacks had been used. But there’s no way to know what hung there. There were also empty shelves. You can see the dust marks here, where something has been removed.”

  “Anything else?”

  “We’re locating copies of the all the magazines, to see just what is missing. We might be able to prove that she used words from them to create the threatening letters.”

  “What about her past?”

  “That’s just it.” He moved his mouse so the original page came up on the screen, listing everything from Ashley’s possible behavior to the known facts. “There were no bills, no mail. We ran a background check and it’s like she doesn’t even exist.”

  “What about prints?”

  “The place was wiped clean.”

  “Entirely?”

  “Yes. I’m telling you, this woman is like a ghost. No school records, no utility records, no bank accounts, no driver’s license, nada.”

  “What about the job? Didn’t they ask for ID?”

  “She had fakes. Courtesy Cleaners still has the copies. They weren’t good fakes but they enabled her to get work.”

  “What else?”

  “She worked for Courtesy Cleaners for less than a year. She was quiet and did her work well. She showed up on time and rarely spoke. Then one day she just didn’t show. When they tried to call, they found the number to be out of use.”

  “Strange.”

  “Yes, and get this. They still have her paychecks. She never took them.”

  “Ever?”

  “No.”

  “So she didn’t need the money. Even though her apartment screams otherwise.”

  She tapped her eyebrow. “Money wasn’t important. She scraped by and didn’t seem to mind. No, she wouldn’t mind. Because her life wasn’t her focus. Veronica Ryan’s was.”

  “There’s something else. Guess who had used Courtesy Cleaners in the past?”

  “Sloan Savage.”

  He nodded. “And Veronica Ryan.”

  Kennedy sank into a chair.

  Allen called up another screen. “We found that envelope. The one that came with the first Ryan letter.”

  She sat up straighter, recalling the letter she’d found.

  “You were right. She listed a return address.”

  “The apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at the screen where a photo of the envelope glowed. She noted the black ink and the longhand script. She saw Veronica’s name and address.

  Allen spoke. “They’re dusting it for prints as we speak.”

  Kennedy blinked. Something in her mind clicked. Her thoughts raced. She studied the handwriting. Veronica’s name. She stood.

  “Oh my God.”

  Allen looked at her. “What is it?”

  “There.” She pointed. “At the end of Veronica’s name.”

  “The heart?”

  Kennedy’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

  She looked at him.

  “It’s the same. The same handwriting.”

  “Same as what?”

  Kennedy swallowed. “As the letter sent to Keri.”

  *

  Hudson Valley, New York

  “Drive her straight to the shoot,” Monty said, talking to Phil. Veronica, unfortunately, was having to overhear it. “I would take her myself, but I’m worried about Shawn. I want to stay with her and the girls.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Phil said as if he’d done this hundreds of times.

  Monty chuckled. “Uh-huh. You know she’s a pistol, right?”

  Veronica wanted to scoff but she remained silent, listening.

  “You’ve only told me around fifty times.”

  “Well, here’s fifty-one. She’s a pistol. Stubborn. Rude. Bossy.”

  “I thought you liked her.”

  “I do.”

  “And you talk like this about her?”

  Monty laughed again. “I’m being nice.”

  Fuck you, Monty. It was bad enough he was sending her off with this musclehead.

  Phil pulled on his navy blazer and she forced herself to look outside rather than react. It was cold and damp outside, the sky furrowing with dark clouds, as if preparing for the weather from the broken-up hurricane. It had been three days since the crew had returned from South Carolina and the bad weather had followed them like an impending doom, promising at the very least a severe thunderstorm.

  Monty spoke again. “Johnson wants a break. Care to take a guess why?”

  “Because she’s a pistol.”

  “Yup. So you’re it today. Larry’s in town and will meet you later. As for the other one who was with her, Botkin? He quit.”

  “When?”

  “An hour ago.”

  “That makes, what, three?”

  He nodded.

  Botkin? She could think of several other more appropriate names for him.

  “More of her charm, I take it?”

  Monty grinned. “Now you’re catching on.” He patted him on the back. “I put a call into that FBI guy. They’re working on getting replacements. In the meantime, you and Larry take Veronica, and Johnson and I will stay with Shawn.”

  He rubbed his hands together in a gesture that suggested he wasn’t cold, but nervous.

  A mental chill swept through Veronica and it wasn’t just the less than favorable things the guys were saying about her. It was something else. Something strange. Like those gut feelings you sometimes get, convinced something is going to go wrong.

  Veronica swept into the room. She knew she looked nice in expensive jeans and a purple cashmere sweater. It made her feel a little better about herself considering what she’d just heard. She tried to relax as she slipped into her worn leather jacket.

  “You both taking me?”

  Phil was staring at her. She knew he was looking at the shadows under her eyes and the lifelessness of her gaze. The mirror hadn’t lied to her. Monty was right to be worried. And she knew they’d all heard the yelling and the fighting the night before at Shawn’s hotel.

  “Phil’s going,” Monty explained. “He’s driving you to the shoot and Larry will meet up with you there.”

  “Larry?” She rolled on lip gloss, pretending she didn’t have a clue.

  “The other security—”

  “Right.” She stared at them both. “Where’s the Terminator? RoboCop?”

  Monty cleared his throat. “Johnson is still with us, but Botkin has left.”

  “Which one’s which?” She pocketed the lip gloss and waved her hand. “Never mind. They’re all the same. I can’t keep up. Except for you, Monty.” She kissed his cheek and looked at Phil. “Let’s go then.”

  They rode the elevator down. Veronica walked quickly, slipping on sunglasses despite the rain. She breezed through the hotel doors.

  She saw Phil give Monty one last look before he hurried outside after her, anxiou
s to open the door for her. She slid into the waiting Mercedes sedan without a word. She did not buckle her seat belt.

  He climbed behind the wheel and they drove in silence for a while, heading into the New York countryside.

  “Looks like we’re going to be a little early,” he said. She was staring out the back window in silence. The windshield wipers whined a few times before she decided to speak.

  “I know. That’s why I wanted to leave right away. There’s somewhere I need to go.”

  He didn’t say anything in response but she could feel the car slow.

  “Slowing down won’t help.”

  He stared straight ahead.

  “I think maybe we should just head toward the shoot.”

  “No,” she said, drawing the word out. “There’s somewhere I need to go.”

  She leaned forward.

  “Make a left at the next light.” She spoke sternly and removed her sunglasses to eye him in the mirror. He clenched the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Ryan, but I have my orders.”

  “I’m giving you the orders.”

  She could see his skin redden. “Monty said to drive you straight to the shoot.”

  “Do it or you’re fired.” She stared at him hard. Waiting for him to argue. When he didn’t she eased back and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Monty’s my boss.”

  “No, you idiot, I’m your boss. I’m Monty’s boss, I’m everybody’s boss. I pay your salary and you’ll do as I say.”

  He didn’t reply and he acted like he couldn’t bear to look in the rearview mirror. He fumbled with the cell phone.

  “Turn here,” she said again. “Now. Then you can call Monty and complain.”

  He released the phone and gripped the steering wheel. The turn signal flashed as he switched it on and slowed.

  “Turn right again up here. The gravel road.”

  He did as he was told and drove the car over the crunching gravel. The road led into the trees, and beyond them stood a beautiful stone house, large but single story.

  “I’ll be right back,” Veronica said as she quickly exited the car. He stepped out after her.

  “No, you stay.”

  “I have to come with—”

  “Wait in the car.” She shot daggers at him. “I mean it. I’ll be fine. I’m not staying long. Just wait out here and do your thing. Watch for bad guys or goblins or whatever it is you do.”

  She felt him watching her as she trotted up to the door. Before she could even knock. Marion stepped out and embraced her. They kissed softly and she fought just collapsing in her arms. She heard the car door close and knew he would be calling Monty now but she didn’t care. All she cared about at that moment was Marion Grace. She hurriedly followed her inside.

  *

  Ashley Williams knocked on his window. He visibly jumped in surprise.

  She stood looking right at him, large sunglasses covering her eyes, her head covered by the dark green hood of her raincoat. She could feel the rain pelt it. She motioned for him to roll down his window.

  He seemed cautious and only lowered it a little.

  “I need to see some ID, sir.” She spoke confidently and looked into the interior of the car, searching.

  “Sorry?” He looked carefully at her, trying to see her face.

  “Identification. I need to see some.” She eyed him sternly. “Who are you with?”

  “Veronica Ryan.”

  “Did she have an appointment with Ms. Grace?”

  “I’m sorry, who?”

  “Marion Grace. You’re on her property.”

  He fished out his ID. “An appointment? I don’t know.”

  She saw a flicker of recognition just as he reached for his cell phone. Before he could hit speed dial, she pushed into him with the Taser, then opened the car door. He fell to all fours and tried to speak, but she Tasered him again. He fell to his back and she knelt to deliver another shock to his ribs. Strange gasping sounds came from him as his large body contorted. She knew the pain was excruciating but he wasn’t out yet. Once more to his neck did the job and he stilled. Hurriedly, she removed his blazer and tossed it on the driver’s seat.

  Then she studied him. His eyes had rolled back in his head and he was curled up on his side. He would be tough to move. Glancing around, she bent and grabbed the man under the armpits.

  “Heavy motherfucker,” she said, dragging him into the woods. His shoes were shiny and they wobbled as she dragged him over pine needles and brush. When she was about fifty yards in, she released him and tried to catch her breath. His head was turned and he looked as if he were asleep. She knew that look.

  He was sleeping the sweet sleep. Seeing God required that sometimes.

  Regaining her strength, she yanked off his blazer and then pulled out the roll of duct tape she had hidden in her coat. She busied herself binding his hands and feet, rolling him over to hog-tie him. Then she gagged him.

  Satisfied, she returned to the car and slid into his blazer, her raincoat still on underneath. The rain pelted her hood and her breath came out in white wisps.

  She left the engine running as she waited for Veronica Ryan. Her heart raced but it also hurt. She could only imagine what the two women were doing inside. Veronica had been seeing Marion Grace for a short while now, and it angered her. It seemed that Veronica had a handful of women she could choose from at any given time. It wasn’t just Sloan Savage, it wasn’t just Shawn. She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she thought of how many women she would have to kill in order to win Veronica for herself. It was too many. She could do it, but it would take too much time. So she had decided to simply take Veronica. To kidnap her and take her away. Then and only then would she be hers. Solely hers. She glanced in the rearview mirror once again. This time she smiled at her reflection.

  Veronica Ryan was almost hers.

  Movement came from the house. The front door opened and Veronica and Marion stepped out and embraced. Heat angered her skin as she watched Veronica kiss Marion Grace passionately.

  She squeezed the steering wheel.

  Maybe she would come back for the Grace bitch. And Shawn. Yes, she would get Veronica settled and come after them. Maybe then her heart could rest.

  Veronica Ryan approached the car and she sat straighter and tried to make herself appear taller. Veronica hurried, trying to avoid the rain, and opened the door herself. She climbed in and Ashley immediately locked the doors and drove away from the house.

  She drove quickly, desperately wanting to look back at Veronica, at her love, but she wanted to hide her identity as long as she could. She heard Veronica sigh and fidget in the back seat.

  “Was that so bad?” she asked and then laughed. “Guess Monty’s pretty pissed at me, huh? I’m surprised he didn’t drive down here.”

  Ashley drove on in silence.

  “Figures. He’s always pissed at me about something. But let me tell you, that trip was well worth it.” She let out a long breath. “That’s quite a woman.”

  Ashley kept driving, wringing her hands on the steering wheel. Eventually, the silence got to Veronica.

  “Now you’re pissed at me.” She laughed. “So you’re not going to talk to me. You think I jeopardized your job. That’s fine. Whatever.”

  Ashley could feel her eyes on the back of her head. After a few more moments of silence, Veronica leaned forward.

  “Hand me the fucking phone and I’ll call Monty and tell him it was all my fault.”

  Ashley didn’t move.

  “Um, hello?”

  Silence.

  “Rambo. Give me the phone. That’s your new name now. Rambo. Like it?” Veronica sighed dramatically. “Fine. I don’t need to call him. You both can kiss my ass.”

  The phone next to Ashley rang. She looked at it but didn’t answer.

  “Would you please get that?” Veronica demanded.

  It stopped after a few rings but then started up again.

 
Veronica complained, “Jesus, answer the phone, it’s driving me crazy.”

  The ringing was getting to Ashley too. She couldn’t take it. Veronica leaned forward and tried to reach over the seat. Ashley acted quickly and grabbed the phone. She lowered the window and tossed it out. Veronica called out, shocked.

  More silence filled the car.

  Veronica spoke. “Pull your hood down.”

  Ashley didn’t move.

  “I don’t remember you having a hood.” Her voice cracked.

  Ashley kept driving, making a turn to go deeper into the country.

  Veronica opened her own cell phone. Ashley heard it.

  Immediately, she pulled off the road and slammed the car to a screeching halt. Excitement filled her belly as Veronica shrieked.

  Ashley opened her door and sprang from the car. She yanked open Veronica’s door and reached in. Veronica retracted and shrieked again.

  “Get away, get away from me!”

  Ashley grabbed the phone and pried it from her hand. She studied the screen. No call had been made. She chucked it over her shoulder.

  Then she stooped to look at the woman she’d long been after. She tossed her shades aside.

  “Hello, Veronica.” She slipped out of the navy blazer and lowered the hood of her raincoat.

  Veronica stared at her, hunched against the other side of the car. She reached down and fumbled with the door handle.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Ashley reached in her back pocket and pulled out a handgun. She aimed it at Veronica and watched as she stilled, her big brown eyes trained on the weapon.

  “Wha-What do you want?” Her voice was strong at first, but then trembled.

  “What I’ve always wanted. You.”

  Tears formed but didn’t fall. She seemed at a loss for words.

  “Don’t cry. I love you.”

  Veronica sucked in a sudden shaky breath. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve always loved you, Veronica. And now it’s time I show you.” She leaned into the car, taking Veronica’s hand.

  Veronica jerked and tried to pull away.

  “Come on, now. Come sit in the front with me.” She waived the gun at her and backed up. Veronica slowly complied and crawled out of the car. She tried to stand her ground, but her hands gave her away. They shook.

 

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