X’s and Ophelia (The Seekers Club #2)

Chapter 1

Ophelia. Now.

The pigeons are cooing. The snow is melting. I am living my best life.

I strut across Central Park with a brown leather jacket, flared pants, and sneakers. Trailing behind me are my two ducklings: Kira and Squeaky.

“Auntie Ruby!” Kira says. “What’s loitering?”

“It’s the man trying to control where we stand, sit, and gather,” I say, and click my tongue against my teeth. “Don’t let him. Loiter wherever you want.”

It’s unreasonably warm for February in New York City, which is why I took the opportunity to break my niece and nephew out of their home in Astoria and take them for some fresh air.

My sister, Aleena, is a paralegal and works during the day, so any time I can relieve her of childcare duty, I’m on it.

I’m in between acting gigs right now, so…

Auntie Ruby is ready to rock ‘n roll.

Kira is six and curious about everything.

Squeaky, her little brother, toddles around behind her.

Today, we tested out Kira’s ability with a baseball bat.

I borrowed a bat from my roommate’s boyfriend and took the kids to Central Park.

Kira, the perfectionist, took two swings before laying down on the grass in abject frustration.

Squeaky dropped the bat to chase the ducks.

All in all, a successful outing. The sun is out, I get to hang out with my favorite people in the world, and I’m feeling good.

Until I see it.

Parked on the street is a bulky, damaged black van.

Along the side of the van, the words Subway Ratz are scrawled in jagged graffiti-print and there’s an illustration of a raggedy looking rat wearing a backwards cap.

As bad as the van looks on the outside, it looks worse on the inside—seats with the stuffing popping out, duct-tape on the console, a hole in the floorboard so you can see straight through to the road.

I know this because I used to date the singer, Brody Hansen, until I found him hooking up with his side-piece on my 35th birthday.

Son of a bitch…

I press against the glass and shield my hands around my face so I can peek into the van. There’s equipment in the back, but no one’s inside.

“Kira,” I say, “what’s a word for someone who says they’re going to do one thing, but then does something else?”

Precocious Kira cocks her head like a spaniel, considering. “A liar?”

“A liar!” I remove my house keys from my pocket. “Good job, Kira. How do we spell “liar”?”

“L…”

As Kira spells, I key the words into the side of the ugly-ass van.

L-I-A…

“Hey!” Brody barks the word as he jogs up the sidewalk. He has a toned, tan body and a sleeve of tattoos. A couple months ago, the sight of him would’ve made me climb him like a tree. Now, he just makes me sick.

His feet come to a sudden stop when he sees its me. I see his eyes flicker from me, to the two kids, then back to me.

“What the…f are you doing, Ruby?”

I point my keys at him. “Just thought I’d improve your van. Subway Ratz and the Lying Liars! ”

He puts up both hands like he’s taming a tiger. “If this is about your birthday—”

“Of course, it’s about my birthday!”

“I don’t know anything about your stupid Easter egg hunt!”

My mouth twists into a sneer. “Scavenger hunt!”

“Whatever!”

He throws up his hands, exasperated. Worse, he actually sounds sincere.

Is Brody…telling the truth?

If he didn’t set up the scavenger hunt, then who did?

Who would go through all that effort to leave clues all around the city just to lead me to my cheating, worthless ex?

Then the realization hits me like a baseball bat to the head.

Phantom. Mother. Fucking. Phantom.