Chapter Five
Veronica got off the plane and walked blearily into the well-lit Logan Airport lobby. She blinked a few times before she spotted the smiling face of Aunt Frank and strode toward her, only to be intercepted and surrounded by six big guys in suits.
“Excuse me.” She tried to push past them, but they were having none of it.
“Sienna Dixinson’s mother?”
She bristled at the stranger with the self-assured posture intoning her daughter’s name. “Yes. I’m Veronica Foxey,” she responded coldly. “Who wants to know?”
The albino guy with the chiseled chin gave her a look that was surprisingly warm and reassuring. “We’re here to take you to your daughter. Didn’t you get her message?”
Verrie scowled, dropped her overnight bag at her feet to fish around in her pocketbook. Coming out with her cell phone, she punched it on. Not. “Damn. Dead battery,” she groused, then saw Aunt Frank out of the corner of her eye, approaching like a tornado. Oh-oh. Whoever these guys were, they were about to get new assholes ripped.
“Who the hell ah yeh, and why ah yeh stoppin’ my baby?” A pissed off frown marred what otherwise was a stunningly beautiful, sixty-year-old face.
Verrie wanted to grin at the black-suit posse. They were about to get a front-row seat to the dichotomy that was her long-time aunt—tough talker, aggressive in action, wrapped up in the visage of a freakin’ angel.
All five foot two of Francis-Ann elbowed into the group of men, sending sparks flying from her large blue eyes toward anyone who had the audacity to look back. Her blonde hair, flying in a wispy halo around her head had turned even more platinum looking with an addition of gray Verrie had never seen before. Man. Who knew gray hair could make someone even more gorgeous?
“Ma’am.”
Speaking of gray hair, the man who sported a total white crop of it dared to face Frank.
“I’m Agent Pelwick,” he informed her, whipping out an ID for inspection. “These are my fellow agents from the DEA. If you’d just step back and have a seat, this is agency business. We’ll speak to you when we’re through here.”
Oh my God. Wrong thing to say. Now there would be some fireworks.
But Aunt Frank surprised her by dropping the aggression and going all pretend-sweet on their asses. “This wouldn’t have ta do with Verrie’s daughta Sienna bein’ in jail, would it? Verrie called and told me Si was in trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am.” A luscious-looking black guy stepped forward, obviously trying to be more forthcoming than Agent Pelwick. He looked apologetic and offered up a bit more information. “We’ve taken the liberty of removing her daughter from jail and are holding her in a new location.”
“Okay,” Frank still played. “Which means yeh eithah abandoned my kid, or yeh have Riley, too.” Now her eyes narrowed, showing her true colors. “Which one is it?”
“Yo. Chill out. I’m Flick.” A dark-eyed, dark-skinned beauty stepped out from the group and took over, bending down to get right in Frank’s face. “I can tell you’re just dying to ramp up and make a scene, so I’m going to cut the crap and get us all the hell out of here without creating paperwork for Logan security. Okay?” Not waiting for her acquiescence, he continued, “Here’s the skinny. We sprung Sienna and Riley from the state police barracks last night, and they are right now at our headquarters, waiting for your friend Verrie…uh…Ms. Foxey?” Flick turned slowly and raised his eyebrows. He tried hard to keep the twitch from his lips.
Verrie shrugged disgustedly. He’d just figured it out. Wait for it…wait for it…
“Veronica Foxey. Verrie Foxey. Oh man. That’s sick wizz,” he grinned. “You could be…”
“A stripper. I know,” Verrie said the words for what was probably the quadrillionth time in her life. To give him his due, Flick quickly tucked his smirk back in and turned to re-engage Frank.
“And you. Are you Riley’s mother?”
“Grandmothah, but I have total custody.” She brushed past him to take Verrie’s arm, picked up her carry-on and hefted it over her shoulder. “And you can take us ta them right now.”
“Wait a minute, Aunt Frank.” Verrie was all for getting to the girls, but really? They were just going to plop into a vehicle with these six Neanderthals? “Before we go, I want to see ID from all of you,” she told them, purposely planting a suspicious look on her face, “then I want to borrow a phone and call my daughter to verify your story.”
“Cool,” said the one called Flick. “Guys. Ante-up the ID.” He handed his to Verrie first.
“Emiliano Santavera.” She nodded, trying to come up with something to get him back for figuring out the ’Verrie Foxey’ so soon. “I can see why you shortened it.” Lame, but she was sleep deprived. She passed the little leather folder along to Frank, then one by one perused all the rest. “Mike Pelwick.”
“Gramps,” he said a little sheepishly, and Verrie thrust her hand forward for a shake. She often had feelings about people when she touched them, and Gramps' hand slipped into hers with a nice comforting grasp. So far, so good.
She let go, briefly read his credentials, and moved around the circle. The albino was Coby Leopold, who introduced himself as ‘Cub.’ The lovely black man was Zion Blanell, known as ’Z,’ and the Asian hunk was Jett Pahuyama, initials JP. Handshakes all around gave off positive energy, and she was almost satisfied. There was one who hung back, giving off some kind of odd vibe Verrie tried hard to zero in on but was somehow missing. He introduced himself as Dunsky, or “Dunce,” and his reticent handshake told her he was distracted and hiding something. He pulled back.
We have her, Marduk, and we also have Riley’s grandmother. Make sure Sienna answers her phone. Her mom’s going to call her on Flick’s line to find out we’re legit.
Verrie’s face turned to stone. Shit. She could fucking hear him in her head. Her body swayed. She needed to sit down…or fall down. She quickly began listing excuses in her head. It had been a long night, and she was overwrought. Her innate fears had her imagining things. She had been expecting brain-intrusion, and so she made up the voices. Yeah. The third one had to be it. She breathed slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth. Be sensible, Verrie, she admonished herself. Keep it together. Don’t let anyone see weakness. She’d schooled herself in years past to ignore the voices without a twitch of betrayal on her face. She could do it again. It was all pretend.
Her reasoning began slowly to return, and she enumerated the ways this was not like her experiences in the past. Number one, she’d never seen someone whose voice she’d heard, they were always disembodied. Number two, none of the voices had ever spoken in English. It had always been some dark, hodge-podge of grunted syllables that invaded her brain. And number three…well…shit. There was no number three. Didn’t lists always have three things? She was so nervous, she almost giggled. Number three or not, hearing voices again wasn’t good. She needed to get Frank off to the ladies room for a crazy-check.
“Um…guys? Ladies room first, phone after. If I don’t pee right now, I won’t be responsible for what happens to your car seats.” She turned and grabbed her aunt’s hand. “C’mon Frankie.” Verrie heard a decided snicker and turned back to see all the men elbowing each other. She shot them a look and couldn’t find “nice” as she hissed. “What?”
“Oldest line in the book,” Flick laughed. “Let’s hit the ladies room. That’s when our ‘guests’ try to disappear.” He waved a hand at her burgeoning protest. “It’s fine,” he dismissed. “Talk things over with your Aunt and come to some decision that will make you feel better as long as you stay put and accompany us willingly.” He looked at his watch. “Just make it fast, will you? I don’t want to miss Ellen.”
Verrie’s humorous side awoke briefly. She couldn’t help the twitch of her lip at the thought of the big, tough dude watching daytime TV. The whole situation would be so much easier if she wasn’t afraid she was going bat-shit nuts again.
Frank took charge. “You pretty guys stay right theah. We’re gonna powdah some noses.”
Yeah, thought Verrie. We’re going to powder our noses.
The men surrounded them and moved smoothly across the lobby toward the ladies room door. So much for staying put. But seriously? Both she and Frank had known they’d stick close. They pushed into the restroom, and the door swung shut behind them. Verrie collapsed into her aunt’s arms.
“What-sa-mattah, sweetpea?” Frank soothed. “These guys seem like theah fa real. We’ll have ah girls back in no time, and the foah of us will figya things out.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Verrie pulled back from her aunt’s arms and wiped a shaky hand over her cheeks where a few tears had escaped. She looked right into Frank’s concerned eyes. “I have a bigger problem than that. After the one named Ken introduced himself, I thought I heard him keep talking…in my head.”
“Ah, fuck.”
The expletive came from outside the bathroom, and Verrie started. What the hell? There was no way any of those guys could have heard her whispers.
“Well, hell, Verrie. Was it the same kind of gibberish like befoah? You think these guys are some kinda aliens or somethin’?”
“Nope, Aunt Frank. This was straight up English, and he was telling someone named Marduk you were coming with us too, and they needed to make sure Si answered her phone when I call.”
“Did he get an ansuh from whoevah he was talkin’ to?”
No, I did not. The guy named Ken’s voice butted right into the conversation, and Verrie gasped for breath, swaying. She held up a hand to stop Frank from saying anything more.
And if I’d known you were going to be able to hear us, I would have been more polite and used my phone. It’s just that head talk is easier.
For some reason, rather than being completely freaked out by the new words in her head, after processing for a minute, Verrie actually felt better. She became pragmatic. Instead of random noises, this was actually conversation…certainly a first. Okay. So, if she could understand him, maybe he could understand her. Verrie allowed herself to “think” at Ken—something she hadn’t done with the voices since the very beginning. Back then it had only served to make them escalate.
This is Ken, right?
Yes, it is.
Wow. An actual answer.
And who else out there can talk like this?
None of the other guys here.
His answer surprised Verrie, but he was quick to explain.
These guys are all just DEA, with no…uh…otherworldly skills. But most of the folks back at our headquarters have mind-speak capabilities. Would you like to hear them?
Verrie wasn’t sure. It had been a long time since she’d had to face―up close and personal―the voices in her head. What the hell. She might as well bite the bullet and get it over with. Yeah, okay. Go ahead.
Ladies and gentlemen of the compound. Please say a big hello to Sienna’s mom, who it turns out has the same mad skills as her daughter.
And that answered that question. Sienna was hearing things too.
Welcome to Boston.
Hello from all of us.
Can’t wait to meet you.
A flurry of voices hit her head, both male and female. Here was something else that had never happened. The tones she’d heard before had always been deep moans and grunts, indistinguishable from one to another. These were all separate and very different.
Mom?
Now Verrie was freaked. Her knees gave out, and she slipped to the floor. Frank crouched down beside her, but Verrie managed another silencing look in her aunt’s direction before trembling out her daughter’s name.
Sienna? Is that you?
Yeah, Mom. It is. Wow. Who knew this stuff could be cool as well as scary? Hey. How come we’ve never done this before?
Another voice cut in. It’s because we have harnessed the ability to make our voices travel farther than is normally attributed to immor…uh, our people.
That’s Marduk, Mom. He’s the leader of these guys.
You mean the head of the DEA?
Nope. That’s Jake. Verrie heard her daughter mumble as she asked somebody. That’s right, isn’t it? Jake?
Yes, that’s correct. Another male voice chimed in.
Then the guy Marduk’s tonal intonation was back. But introductions can wait. Why don’t we get your mother back here before we let you all know what’s happening? We don’t want her…or you…to be too overwhelmed.
She heard her daughter agree in a very grown-up way and decided if Sienna could digest what was going on, she owed it to her daughter to do the same.
Hey, Mrs. F. The cheerful head voice nearly sent her spinning again. It was most definitely Riley, and Verrie swallowed her incredulity before answering.
Riley? You can talk like this too?
Yeah. Cool, right? I don’t know what you guys have been bitching about because this is totally dope. Hey, say hi to Grams for me, will you?
Yeah. Okay. I will. But seriously? Right now I have to pee worse than ever because you all have scared the piss right out of me…so sign off…or whatever you do. I don’t need anybody in my brain while I’m urinating, okay?
Yeah, Mom. We’ll leave you alone, her daughter replied. Was that a whole lot of snickering? Can’t wait to see you. Love you.
Love you, too, peach. Uh, bye for now. Ken? Frankie and I will be out in a couple of minutes. Feel free to listen in if you’re feeling pervy, she snarked.
Now there was definite laughter. If I wanted to, you couldn’t stop me, he chortled. But you’ll learn to keep us out in time. I promise.
Well. That was something.
“Yah wanna fill me in?” Aunt Frank was still sitting beside her on the questionably clean bathroom floor, looking calmly expectant. Verrie uncurled her body upward, and Frank followed.
“Well, the voices have turned friendly, and they’ve been joined by my daughter…and Riley.”
“Riles?” Now Francis-Ann got flustered. Apparently, the first bit she could take, but her granddaughter having mind-skills? Maybe not so much.
“Yup, and I’m happy to say she’s enjoying the hell out of it and says ‘hi,’ by the way.”
“Well, holy shit.” Frank sat back down on the floor, blinking in a stunned fashion. “So what’s next?”
“Dammit. Next, I wet my pants if we don’t pause the big fucking reveals. Give me a minute here.”
As soon as Verrie closed the stall door, pulled down her jeans, and sat on the toilet, she allowed her head to drop. Cradling it in her hands, she tried to lose the tension in her body as she relieved herself. Breathe deeply. Relax the muscles. There was no need to worry. Her daughter sounded fine. Riley was ecstatic, and the group of men waiting outside to escort them to what they called “headquarters” were some of the finest looking pieces of beefcake she’d seen in a long time. That was a plus, wasn’t it? She might be nearing forty, but she wasn’t dead to a nice view. She could appreciate a hot, young physique, couldn’t she? It had been so long since she’d had a man, maybe she could hope they had some older friends at home. Yeah, right. Like she’d ever allow herself a relationship again. Hurt and betrayal—that’s all a so-called partnership was good for.
Verrie pulled up her pants. Besides, this was all about Sienna. Why had her mind even wandered in the direction of men? She’d been celibate since Dwight Dick-head had kicked her out, and she’d be a god-damned nun ‘til the day she died. That was a fact.
Time to get on with business.
Explanations would soon be forthcoming, arrangements would be made, and hopefully, by this time tomorrow, she and Sienna would be headed back to Colorado. Hopefully.