David Baldacci - Simple Genius

“Sure, we can go somewhere, Valerie,” Sean said. He took her hand. “But it can’t be more than that. And I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t think you want it to be more than that either.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re still in love with your husband.”

“This is really wonderful,” the voice said. “Really special.”

They both looked up at the man as he walked toward them.

“Oh my God!” Valerie hissed.

Ian Whitfield limped across the sand.

Sean stepped in front of Valerie. “This is not really what it looks like, Whitfield.”

Whitfield stopped directly in front of Sean. “You don’t really want to go down that road, do you? Because bullshit lies might make me even more upset than I already am. And that would be quite an accomplishment, I can tell you.”

“Ian, don’t!” Valerie said frantically.

He didn’t even bother looking at her. “You had drinks with my wife, then you had dinner with her and now you’re walking on the beach holding hands. Are you suicidal or just stupid?”

“And if you knew all of that, why am I still standing here? Why didn’t you have your goons take me out after the Mojito at the bar?” Sean took a step back and braced himself as the other man looked ready to start swinging.

“I’m not the mob, King. I don’t have people whacked. I’m just a civil servant working for the American people.”

“Okay, mister civil servant, piece of advice, work less and spend more time with your wife. The American people will understand.”

Whitfield glanced over at Valerie, who shrank back. “So you’re a marriage counselor now? I thought you were just an incompetent private investigator.”

“Just trying to do my job.”

“Your job includes seducing my wife?”

“I didn’t seduce your wife. And your wife keeps brushing me off because I think she loves you. Why, I don’t know. So maybe instead of playing the heavy with me, you and she might want to find some place private and talk it out. It’s up to you, big guy.”

Whitfield took a step back. Sean glanced at Valerie. “You want me to stay?”

She shook her head and mouthed the word, “No.”

Sean looked back at Whitfield. “Don’t blow it.”

Sean marched off leaving Whitfield and Valerie looking at each other as the beach wind swept over them.

MICHELLE SAT ON THE FRONT PORCH steps of Alicia’s cottage. Horatio had left and Viggie’s sobs could still be heard from inside the house. Finally, Michelle rose, stepped inside and spent a minute plunking a nameless tune on the piano. The sobs finally stopped. Michelle took a deep breath and headed up.

She didn’t bother to knock on Viggie’s door, she just went in. Viggie was lying on the bed on her stomach, her head underneath a pillow. Her body was still shaking with grief. Michelle gently lifted the pillow off. Now Michelle could hear that Viggie was reciting numbers, very long numbers.

Michelle thought to herself, She lost her father and I’ve treated her like shit. Never really bothered to understand how much she’s hurting.

She sat down on the bed, put a hand out and laid it on Viggie’s back. The girl immediately tensed.

“Viggie, I am so sorry for what I did. I had no right to do it. I hope you can forgive me. I’ve, well, I’ve not been doing all that good lately. I have some issues, like we talked about before. Some days, well, some days are better than others. I guess this was just a bad day. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you were just trying to help.”

Michelle was looking at the wall and didn’t notice that Viggie had turned over and was staring at her. When Michelle did see her she reached out and took the girl in her arms, sobbing almost as hard as Viggie had been earlier. Now it was Viggie who comforted her.

“It’s okay, Mick. I have bad days too. I… I get crazy sometimes. I can’t seem to understand anything, which makes me so mad.”

Michelle cried harder and Viggie tightened her grip on the woman. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I… really like you. You’re my friend.”

Michelle squeezed Viggie and whispered in between sobs, “You’re my friend too, Viggie. I’d do anything for you. I will never hurt you again. I promise. I promise.”

When Sean got back home he found a red-faced Michelle sitting in the living room of the cottage.

“You okay?” he said quickly. “Anything wrong with Viggie?”

“She’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he said doubtfully.

She nodded slowly as though talking required an energy she simply didn’t have.

He sat next to her. “Well, I’m not doing fine.” He relayed to her what had happened on the beach.

“God, Sean, he could’ve killed you.”

“He still could.”

“What do we do now?”

“Go to sleep. Something tells me it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow and a good night’s sleep will do us both good.”

Unfortunately, neither one of them would get it.

Michelle, always a light sleeper, slid her hand under her pillow and gripped her pistol as the door to her room slowly opened. Michelle eased her eyes to slit-wide until she could make out the person coming at her. Viggie was in a long T-shirt that hung past her knees. She was holding something in her hands.

She stood next to the bed for a moment and then slowly placed the item she was carrying on top of the bedspread. A few seconds later Michelle heard the door close. Moments after that Michelle heard Viggie’s door close.

She immediately sat up in bed and turned on the light on the nightstand. Grabbing up the item Viggie had left for her she saw that it was a large manila envelope. In it were two articles: a letter in a regular envelope and a photograph. She was so excited that she slipped out into the hall still wearing only what’d she’d been sleeping in, panties and a short tank top. She quietly knocked on Sean’s bedroom door. There was no answer. She rapped again, a little harder.

She pressed her lips against the door. “Sean? Sean?”

Finally she heard a grumble, some muttering followed by the squeak of a mattress. Then a light was switched on, footsteps came her way, and the door opened.

He was sleepy-eyed and wearing striped pajamas.

“What is it?” he demanded.

A smile twitched across her lips. “You wear pajamas to bed?” she said, staring at him. “For real?”

He said nothing for a moment as his eyes cleared and he focused on her half-naked body. “And you wear nearly nothing when you go to bed? For real?”

She appeared startled, looked down at herself and quickly put a hand across her chest, holding the manila envelope in front of her even more private areas.

Now Sean was smiling. He said, “No, really, Mick, not on my account. Having been woken out of a dead sleep, it’s hard for me to focus on things like breasts and…” He glanced down at the manila envelope. “Well, you get the picture.” When she didn’t say anything, and just stood there looking awkward, he added, “Is there something you wanted, other than to ridicule my choice of sleeping apparel?”

Michelle slipped past him and into his room, sat on the bed and motioned him to join her there. “Hurry up. I’ve got something to show you.”

“I can see that !”

“I’m not horny, okay? I’m talking about something else. It’s important.”

He sighed, walked over and slumped down next to her. “What is it?”

She told him about Viggie’s visit and showed him the items.

All weariness was now gone from Sean’s features. He studied the letter and then the photo.

“Where did Viggie get these?”