David Baldacci - Simple Genius

“Wait a minute,” Michelle said. “You suspected that Rivest was murdered because of the absence of towels, bath mat and the plunger.”

“Right. I told Hayes and he asked the ME to check into whether any trace from the plunger was on the body.”

“And?”

Sean said, “And we hadn’t heard back before the ME died.”

“If the morgue got blown up because someone knew you suspected murder, how would they have found out you did suspect something?”

“Well, Hayes could have carelessly let it slip to someone.”

“Or deliberately told someone,” Michelle countered.

“Why would he do that?”

“Just playing devil’s advocate. What do you really know about him?”

“He’s a county sheriff.”

“But we don’t know where his true loyalties lie.”

“You getting paranoid on me?”

“With Babbage Town and Camp Peary right across the river I’d say you’re totally screwed up if you’re not paranoid.”

Sean nodded. “All we can do is keep chipping away. See if Alicia comes up with anything. Run down the German angle. I don’t see another alternative right now.”

“And maybe it still comes down to us going over that fence,” she said.

After Michelle left Sean pulled out a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He punched in the numbers, and after the beep said, “Valerie, it’s Sean Carter. Can I see you?”

As Michelle was walking back to the cottage, she saw something up ahead that made her flat-out sprint.

“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed.

Viggie stopped and stared at her, the wide smile on her face melting away as she let go of the trash bag she was holding and it fell to the ground.

Michelle looked inside her truck. It was spick-and-span clean. She turned to the girl. “How dare you mess with my things? This is my truck. Who gave you permission to go inside my truck and touch my things? Who!”

Viggie fell back a step. “I… uh. You told me you could never get it clean, no matter how hard you tried. I thought you’d be happy.”

Michelle grabbed the trash bag and started pulling things out and tossing them back in the truck. She screamed, “This is not trash. Get the hell away from my truck!”

Viggie turned and ran sobbing back to the house. Michelle didn’t seem to notice. She was busy picking things out of the trash bag and layering her floorboards with them.

“Catch you at a bad time?”

She whirled around to see Horatio staring at her and Michelle inwardly groaned.

“Just a misunderstanding,” she said quickly.

“No, I think your meaning was crystal-clear.”

“Get the hell off my back!”

“So do we just leave Viggie in the house crying her guts out, or what?”

Michelle glanced toward the house; Viggie’s wails could be easily heard. Michelle slumped back against the truck and the tennis shoe and banana peel she was holding slipped to the ground. A tear trickled down her face.

She sat down on the running board of her truck and stared at the grass.

“I’m sorry,” Michelle said in a low voice. “But she was messing with my stuff. She had no right to do that.” Horatio came over to stand by the truck. “Well, in a sense you’re absolutely right. People shouldn’t mess with other people’s stuff, but I think Viggie was just trying to help you, or at least she thought she was. You can see that, can’t you?”

Michelle nodded her head curtly.

“Have you thought any more about the hypnosis?”

“I told you, if we come back alive-”

He cut her off. “Right, but let’s skip the histrionics, because I’m not sure you have all that much time left.”

She slowly lifted her head to stare at him. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounded like.”

She stood and tossed the garbage bag inside her truck. “What the hell good would it do? I’m obviously too far gone.”

THEY WERE WALKING ALONG THE BEACH. Valerie carried her sandals while Sean slouched guiltily along, his head bowed, his loafers quickly filling up with sand. He had called Valerie because he couldn’t think of another promising line of investigation, and because of her husband’s conversation with Michelle. However, she’d pounced on him as soon as he’d stepped out of his car. She knew all about Sean Carter, including that his real name was Sean King.

“I take it you’ve talked to your husband?” he said.

“Oh yes! If there’s one thing old Ian is really good at it’s finding out stuff. You’re ex-Secret Service and you’re down here investigating those murders at Babbage Town. I can’t believe I fell for your lines. I really can’t believe it.”

“Valerie, it wasn’t exactly like that.”

She whirled on him. “Are you denying you used me to try and get information on my husband? Are you denying that you didn’t follow me to that bar after Ian told you to back off?”

“No, I don’t deny that. But-”

“Then there are no buts .”

“Yes I was fishing for information, but I was just doing my job.”

“What you did was unforgivable.”

“Valerie. I’m sorry if it hurt you. But when you’re trying to find out how people were murdered… If I’d had any other way of getting info I would have.”

She stared up at him, her arms folded across her chest, her sandals in the sand where she had dropped them. The ocean breeze whipped her white slacks against her legs. Slowly the look of fury on her face faded. “I guess I never expected it to happen to me. I never expected to be taken in. Not after Ian anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I thought he married me because he loved me. I was obviously wrong about that.”

“Why then?”

“Who the hell knows? And then you come along and for the first time in my marriage I think, what would it be like to be with another man. You! You sonofabitch!”

Sean stared uncomfortably at her. “Valerie, I can only say that it was very difficult for me to keep a professional distance.”

“Professional distance! Oh, that makes me feel so loved.” Tears were sliding down her cheeks and she angrily wiped them away.

“I’m sorry, Valerie. I really am.”

“Just save the lies for someone else. I don’t need to hear them.”

She stopped, stooped down, picked up a seashell and angrily flung it at a wave. She whirled around and grabbed his jacket with her hand. “And do you want to know the real kicker?”

Sean’s expression showed that, no, he really didn’t want to know the kicker. Yet he said, “Tell me, I deserve it.”

“Maybe you don’t.”

“Valerie, if I could take it all back, I would, but I can’t. So just tell me.”

Her gaze finally broke off from him, but only for a second. “I can’t tell you how much I want to go to bed with you. After all this shit. After everything you’ve done, used me, betrayed me. How much of a loser am I? How much! Because I want to screw your freaking brains out. What the hell does that say about me, Sean!”

She started sobbing. He went to hold her but she pushed him away. He took her in his arms again and this time she let him hold her.

A few minutes passed while the pair stood there, swaying in the sand together.

Finally, Valerie pulled away, took a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “Look, can we just go somewhere a little more private than this. I… I mean…” She took a deep breath. “I should hate you, but I don’t. That first night in the bar when I blew you off, I left there thinking I was the biggest idiot in the world, because I could just sense there was far more to you.” She added quietly, “Far more than I ever saw in my marriage. So can we please just go somewhere?”