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Authors: J. N. Duncan

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BOOK: The Lingering Dead
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She laughed. “Sure thing, boss.”
 
 
For several minutes, Jackie did just what Cynthia had suggested—sat in Nick's office just being there. Beyond the wan smile when she entered, he said nothing. Jackie sipped on the Coke she had got with the pizza and tried not to fidget. As always, Nick looked unreadable, his face relaxed and expressionless in the dim light creeping in around the blinds. These were not the kinds of situations Jackie could relate to. Laurel had always been the one there for her, not the other way around. What would she say in such a situation?
“You tried to do the right thing,” Jackie said quietly. “Back then, I mean. It's all we can do, and hope it turns out good in the end.”
Nick finished off the last of his blood drink and set the bottle on his desk. “It's a bit ironic don't you think? To become the thing that ruined you only to have the monster return to finish the job.”
“God, Nick. You aren't a monster,” she said. “Far from it.”
“Tell that to Charlotte Thatcher.”
She rubbed her hands over her face. There was no easy way around this situation. “Even if we could just stop her from doing whatever it is she's doing, she's likely killed dozens of innocent people over the years. We can't let that slide.”
“I've killed a few over the years, too, Jackie,” he replied.
“That's different. Those people ... deserved it.”
He smiled. “Playing a little loose with the semantics aren't you?”
“OK, screw the semantics,” she said. “The point is, you aren't a monster or evil or a sociopath. You did what you had to because you had no choice, and you made the best of what was available at the time.”
“And so did Charlotte,” he said. Nick groaned with frustration or perhaps just plain tiredness and got to his feet. “But you're right, and I know it. Choices were made and we must make the best of what's available.”
Somehow, his words gave Jackie no sense of comfort. “Nick ...”
He stepped around the desk and offered Jackie his hand. She took it and he pulled Jackie to her feet. “Thank you for coming in. I'm a brooding man who tends to dwell on things best left alone.”
Jackie squeezed his hand. “You're a lawman who hates when the right thing to do doesn't fix all of the wrongs done, and I couldn't agree with you more.”
His smile deepened the creases around his eyes, and Jackie felt the soft brush of his fingers tickle her throat until they tipped her chin up. “One could get to like a woman such as yourself, Ms. Rutledge.” Nick's mouth came down to hers and lingered there for several seconds.
Jackie pressed back, sucking in her breath when he finally pulled away. Her pulse thumped rapidly in her chest. She had reached out, and he had actually reached back. Jackie grinned at Nick. It was a feeling she could get used to.
Nick's eyebrows arched. “What?”
She laughed. “Nothing. Let's go figure out what our next step is.”
Chapter 19
The chairs in her office sat in a half circle in front of Jackie's case board. All of their current information was pinned up there, which to Jackie did not look like much. In reality, at the moment, they had no real proof of anything. The entire case was built on circumstantial evidence, conjecture, and postulation. Even if they got Charlotte into the system, assuming she was actually guilty of anything, a judge would laugh them right out of court.
They needed either a confession of guilt from Charlotte or some actual evidence that a murder had been committed or Jessica Davies to admit she had been kidnapped. The more they went over what they had, however, the more likely it seemed that they would get none of these things.
“What I still don't get,” Jackie said, “is why? If our scenario is accurate, Charlotte has been collecting, and discarding, Mom, Dad, and Sister for over a hundred years. What is she not getting from them?”
“Because nobody is like the original,” Shelby replied.
“Can you charm someone into being someone else?” Jackie wondered.
“With enough power behind it,” Nick said, “you can get someone to do anything.”
“Even kill themselves? Could every one of these girls have been talked into committing suicide?”
“Blessed Mother,” Cynthia said with a gasp. “Perish the thought.”
“Very unlikely,” Nick replied. “That's one aspect of the will that is very difficult to overcome. Unless of course the person wanted to.” Driven to suicide? Jackie swallowed hard. She was all too familiar with how that worked, having seen it first hand with her mother. “Let's assume mass suicide is not happening for the moment, look at the idea that Charlotte has Jessica charmed into thinking she's Rebecca. Could you remove it?” Jackie asked.
“Hmm.” Nick rubbed at his jaw in thought. “I've never had opportunity to try.”
“Me either,” Shelby added, “but what if it turns out she's there of her own free will? We'd lose any advantage we have now, and it might put Rebecca at immediate risk. We can't force her to leave.”
She was right. Jackie nodded. “So we're back to my original idea.”
“Which I'll say again that I don't like at all,” Nick replied.
Jackie frowned at him. “You two can't get near her. I can. I'll be wired and you'll be two minutes away.”
He shook his head. “Two minutes won't be fast enough if there's a problem, and she's already spooked by our presence. We're a threat.”
“Margolin was our only other possibility,” Jackie said, “and he's clearly already chatted with Charlotte and is convinced we're up to no good. So, I think we're left with one choice, and that's me. Any luck and I can get Jessica by herself.”
“We can't rely on luck with this,” Nick replied, leaning forward and resting his arms upon his knees. “What are you going to say to her? How will you step through that door and convince her you aren't a threat?”
“By not focusing on her,” Jackie said. “I'll play the kidnapping angle, wanting to find out that Rebecca is there of her own free will, which assuming she's charmed, she'll gladly do. If it works, we leave and let her think we've gone, get Margolin out of town, and then I go back, get Jessica out of there, and see if you can break Charlotte's hold on her.”
“Sounds good to me,” Shelby said.
Nick stared hard at Shelby. “And if it doesn't work?”
“Then we get Jackie out of there,” she said. “Babe, there is no low-risk scenario with this. The first hint of trouble and we move in, and to be honest, I don't think Charlotte will do anything. She wants to keep her little world intact.”
Nick heaved a sigh and stood up, clearly not happy with any of this. “This is also the same girl who put a bullet in my chest.”
“We just won't let that happen then, will we?” Shelby said.
“Easier said than done,” Nick replied and strode out of the room.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then Cynthia said in a quiet voice, “I'm worried, too. This sounds really risky.”
I'm going with you,
Laurel said.
I might be able to help in a pinch.
Thanks, Laur. I was hoping you'd say that.
It was very risky, and stepping into the house of a vampire was the last thing she wanted to do, but like Shelby, Jackie did not think Charlotte would risk exposure if she could help it, not when she knew that two other vampires were waiting in the wings. “We knew there would be risks with this job, and we'll stay in constant contact, Cyn. If shit hits the fan, you get McManus on this immediately.”
“I never thought we'd have vampires to deal with again,” she said.
“Yeah, me either,” Jackie replied.
It took them an hour to get ready and head out to the plane. Jackie's wireless mic was tucked into her bra and the tiny earpiece into her ear. She had a fully loaded tranquilizer gun and stun grenades, if push came to shove. She hoped this run would last no more than five minutes: talk to Charlotte, confirm she was a vamp, talk to Jessica, and let her say she was there of her own free will. Hello, sorry to bother you, thanks, and good-bye. Piece of cake.
On the road down to the Mill, Nick laid his hand on Jackie's thigh and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Nervous?”
“Actually, I'm pretty good with the whole vampire thing now,” she said. “I'm good.”
Both Shelby and Nick chuckled at that one. He patted her leg. “You'll do fine. I'd be more worried if she didn't make you nervous.”
“I think terrified would be a better term,” Jackie said. “If we're wrong about her ... just be ready, please.”
“My foot will be on the pedal, babe,” Shelby replied. “First whiff of trouble and we'll be on our way.”
They rounded the final bend before town and Shelby killed the headlights and pulled off to the shoulder of the road. They would not risk getting spotted by Carson or Margolin this time unless absolutely necessary.
Jackie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “OK. You come with horn blasting if there's trouble.”
Nick's hand cupped her face and turned her to face him, where he leaned over and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Good luck, Jackie, and please, please be careful.”
“God, you're so cute sometimes, babe.” Shelby turned, reached over and grabbed Jackie's hand, squeezing it tightly. “No gung-ho, super-agent bullshit, girl. Stick to the plan and let's be home before midnight.”
Jackie opened the door and stepped out into the crisp, night air. “I'm not trying squat against that girl.”
Not if I can help it, anyway.
Her boots ground across the gravel until she hit the long grass off the side of the road. Another fifty feet and she was in the tree line, weaving in and out at the base of the hill until she had made her way around the east side of the town and stood directly below the Thatcher house. The town itself was mostly dark, a jagged shadow against the hills on the other side with sporadically blinking, yellow eyes. Silence cloaked her like fog. Between her position and the edge of town, Jackie caught sight of a wispy figure drifting through the shrubs of someone's backyard. She had to quell the notion that it might spot her and go zipping up the hill to warn Charlotte.
Hon, we're fine. It won't bother us.
I know. Just jumpy. It's so fucking quiet around here.
All of these dead scare the living things away.
“How you doing, Jackie?” Nick's voice boomed in her ear, and Jackie practically jumped out of her boots.
“Christ, Nick,” Jackie said in a harsh whisper, “turn down the volume.”
“Sorry,” he replied softly. “Better?”
“Yeah. I'm heading up the hill now.”
In the silence, her feet crunching their way over twigs and underbrush, Jackie was sure the noise would alert everyone within a mile of her location, but the porch light up above remained on and no police lights came flashing from below. When she reached the top and stepped into the clearing, Jackie stopped and took a deep breath, double-checking to make sure her gun was properly situated and the stun grenades would detach themselves easily from the side of her belt. There were no signs of activity from inside the house.
“OK, I'm up top,” she said, “heading for the door now.”
“Anything unusual?” Nick asked.
“No, nothing,” she replied.
There were no signs of ghosts in the yard this time as she walked across the packed-gravel circle drive in front of the house. A pair of wooden rockers sat idly behind the screen windows of the porch, which Jackie half-expected to begin moving of their own accord. When she reached the wooden steps going up to the screen door her boots creaked on the planks, and Jackie froze, fist poised to knock, waiting to see if any reaction came from inside.
Do you feel that?
Laurel whispered in her head.
She's in there.
Jackie paused, reaching out for that sense of the dead. The ghosts were so frequent and dense in this town that she had gotten used to the feeling of their presence all around them, but when she actually looked and focused, Jackie felt it, too—a more intense thrum of energy..
Yeah, I can feel her.
“Here goes nothing.”
The rapping of her fist on the porch door sounded like gunfire in the still night air. She waited a good fifteen seconds before repeating. Another fifteen seconds and Jackie tried one more time. She felt the faint thump of footsteps through the soles of her boots. A moment later, the curtain hanging in the front door window separated a couple of inches, but Jackie could not make out who it was.
She hit the door again. “Charlotte Thatcher? This is Jackie Rutledge from Special Investigations. I'd like to ask you—”
The door opened. A slight figure stood silhouetted against the soft lamplight from inside. The short hair, forming a smooth shell around her head, indicated to Jackie that it could only be one person.
“What?” she asked sharply. “You want to ask me what?” Her voice was petulant, and Christ, but it sounded young.
“I'm here on behalf of my team to inquire about the welfare of Jessica Davies.”
There was a brief pause. “There is nobody here by that name.”
“Your sister, Charlotte,” Jackie said.
“My sister is Rebecca Thatcher,” she replied. “There is nobody here by the name of Jessica Davies. If that is all you came to harass me about at this late hour, then I bid you goodnight.” She stepped back into the house and began to close the door.
“Charlotte! If you can't prove to me that Jessica is here of her own free will, we'll be forced to inform the FBI about possible kidnapping charges.”
The door, halfway closed, swung wide open and Charlotte marched across the porch to the screen door. Jackie felt the sudden surge of Deadworld energy enveloping her.
Jackie! Be careful,
Laurel said, pushing at the boundaries of Jackie's mind, ready to spring out against Charlotte.
Jackie took a step back, on the off chance Charlotte would attempt to fling the screen door open against her, but Charlotte stopped at the door, glaring through the screen, her shadowed face offset by the flare of glowing eyes. They narrowed into thin slits.
“You're carrying a ghost inside of you,” she said, sounding more curious than surprised. “How ... interesting. Where are the others?”
Nick's voice sounded worried in her ear. “Jackie? Watch yourself. I don't like her tone.”
Jackie managed to hold her ground.
Me either.
“Nearby. Look, Charlotte, we have no qualms with you, if Jessica is here of her own free will. She's a missing person from Madison, Wisconsin, and we can't leave until we know she's not a prisoner here.”
BOOK: The Lingering Dead
2.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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