The True One

Chapter 4 Part 2

Alek

If you're going to spend time travelling from city to city in a blurry stream of asphalt roads, towering trees, and concrete skylines, there are worse ways to do it than a tricked-out tour bus.

"I swear by it," Verity told me. This was one of the few sentences she spoke to me before leaving from her father's house in the early hours of the morning. She'd purchased the bus only six months ago. "It's my home on the road."

Her home on the road likely cost more than I'd made in all my years as treasure hunt adventure guide. A surprisingly spacious living area with a full-sized couch, a large television, bar and fully stocked fridge, a bedroom with a second television, and then, the most extravagant part of the bus: a marble tiled bathroom adjacent to an infrared sauna.

"Why a sauna?" I asked Verity's manager, Janene.

"Saunas are used traditionally for health and wellbeing, and it's no different for Verity," she said. "A tour is rough on a performer. Verity can get..." She stared off into the sauna. "She's brilliant, but at the same time, she's just like you and me."

I had serious doubts about that. "Is she?"

"She can become tired. The commotion, the people...she 's energized by them to a point, but they exhaust her as well. It probably doesn't help that she barely sleeps."

Interesting tidbit. No one had mentioned Verity's lack of sleep to me before, including Verity herself. The light on in her room until three in the morning made sense now. "No, I don't imagine so."

"We all only have so much energy to give." Janene's shoulders relaxed. She seemed relieved to have someone to talk to about this. I wondered what other things about Verity she might want to get off her chest. "Everyone should have a sauna."

"Most people would probably prefer having access to affordable medical care, but okay."

I expected Janene to chastise me but instead she laughed. "You sound like Verity."

My left eyelid began to twitch. "I doubt that."

"Oh, but you do. She bought this fancy bus but not without feeling guilty about it."

I glanced towards the front of the bus, where Verity, donning a designer cashmere sweater and diamond studded earrings, sat laughing with Flora and two members of her tour whose names I'd already forgotten. "She doesn't seem like she feels guilty."

"Fame is complicated. Sudden wealth is even more so." Janene shrugged. "Verity drives me up the wall sometimes but I'm her manager because she has layers to her. If you believe she is only what she presents herself to be, you'll never discover anything but what's on the surface."

I nodded, not wanting to reveal that I already knew the rot that lay beneath, likely more than Janene herself did.

Janene excused herself to answer a phone call and I stood outside a tour bus sauna wondering how I'd survive spending so much time pretending to like someone who might be one of the most vicious killers in the world.

The laughter ended. I looked towards Verity and her friends. Everyone had reverted from shared reverie to solo phone use.

Everyone but Verity.

No longer smiling, she stared out the window across from her.

This could be it: another trance. I braced myself for what might come of it. Back at Mr. Jayne's home, it had been a trance she'd experienced and nothing else. No physical changes that I could detect, no violent or unpredictable behavior. Nothing but an unresponsive young woman who seemed to have shut herself off from the world. I hated how vulnerable she seemed when that had to be the farthest thing from the truth.

This trance could be different. This pristine, luxurious bus of hers might become a scene of blood and horror if I wasn't prepared to stop her.

She shook herself. It was slight; barely noticeable if you weren't looking for it. The tension I'd been carrying in my fisted hands released. Not a trance then, just a moment of contemplation.

She turned her gaze to meet mine.

My breath caught. She didn't look guilty, or like a killer, though she could easily be both. Instead, her face pensive, eyes reddened, she radiated something entirely different. A wave of sorrow washed over me. Her sorrow, my sorrow. I couldn't differentiate. The discomfort this caused made me want to find a dark corner to fold myself into.

Flora thrust her phone in Verity's face to show her something and the moment broke. Sorrow washed back out to sea; laughter again filled the bus. My emotions stabilized.

Less than a minute later, my phone dinged. A text from Norvin.

What do you think? She showing any signs.

I hesitated with my response. Yes, of course she was showing signs. But her odd blackouts hadn't progressed to the point where I had any real proof. They could still be explained by several psychological or physiological conditions. And whatever had happened just now—I had no way to explain that at all.

Sure, I felt I knew what she was deep down, but feelings were hardly enough, especially when we were dealing with someone's life.

Need more time.

I waited for him to reply, knowing this answer wouldn't satisfy him.

How much time?

Give me a break, Norvin. I'll know when I know.

Fine. Behave yourself, kid.

Behave myself. This from a man who had once joined a cult, had sex with the cult leader's wife, and when he'd been found out, burned the cult's barn down in a grand exit. He liked to chide me about my youthful dalliances but really, he'd done worse in his time.

Maybe he did have a bit of wisdom to him, though. His words would come back to me, late that night after a show in Sacramento, when everyone, drunk and exhausted, loaded back into the tour bus. I was a bodyguard, after all, and yet, somehow, I'd forgotten to behave like one.

I followed Flora onto the bus. Eyes half shut, she looked around in a panic. "Where's Verity?"

My heart sped. She had been here just a second ago.

No, there she was, the back of her head visible amongst the small gathering of people.

"She's right here!" Relief reverted to fear again as the suspected Verity turned to me—

same height, same wavy blond hair—and... "Shit."

I'd mistaken a dancer for her. After searching inside the bus, I checked the outside perimeter, all the time thinking about the way she'd looked earlier today, like a million people could surround her and she'd still feel like the only person in the universe.

I had been negligent and now a dangerous predator was on the loose. Tonight would be the night: Verity Jayne was going to reveal her true self. My only hope was to find her before she murdered someone.

___

Author's Note: In researching for this chapter, I came across the video of Justin Bieber's tour bus and knew I wanted to use it as inspiration for Verity's bus. I imagine hers as just a bit more organic--more textiles, more nature inspired prints, but still very high end. I had never imagined a bus having a sauna, but if it's good enough for Mr. Bieber, it's good enough for Verity Jayne! 

So, here we are... Verity seems to be missing. Where is she? What does Alek think is happening to her? Has she left on her own, or has she been taken?

We'll find out in Chapter 5!

Thank you for your support and for reading this story. If you enjoy it, please share the link on social media and I will be forever grateful!