by J N Duncan
“What’s that?”
“The bullets used to kill the vics were police issue.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. Not sure they can trace it to a specific gun, but it sure looks that way.”
“A rogue cop would be bad news.”
“No kidding. Those never end well.”
“So, you guys all done over there for now?”
Denny said, “Pretty much. I don’t think anyone is there if you’re just going to look around. You got permission for this?”
“John said we could check it out.”
“What are you up to, Jack?” His voice was wary.
“Quit worrying, Den. We actually have permission to investigate the scene. I’m taking Anderson and Fontaine over to check for possible supernatural involvement.”
“Ah. All right then. Have fun with that. Give my regards to Casper.”
“I’ll make sure to give him your address. Later, Den.” She cut off his laughter and put the phone away. “Does John know why we’re doing this?”
“Yes.”
“Are we heading into something dangerous?”
“Not likely,” he said. “I wanted you to be able to practice some, to see if you can replicate what happened this morning. It’s important to find out what your limitations are, Jackie, where the boundaries lie. What exactly you are capable of.”
“How the fuck would I know?”
“Exactly. How could you possibly know, without testing yourself?” Nick reached over and laid his hand on Jackie’s shoulder. It was little comfort, but he could see beneath that thin veil of annoyance that Jackie was afraid of what was going on. “We’ll be with you every step of the way on this, Jackie. There is very little actual knowledge on this kind of thing, so we’re kind of winging it.” He wasn’t about to tell her that she might be unique in the world, as the only living being to cross over to the dead side and return. Vampires didn’t exactly count as a living being, not entirely anyway.
“Sorry if your words don’t comfort me, Nick. I’d rather know nothing about it, actually. But I guess I get to whether I want it or not.”
If not for me dragging you over there, you might not be in this predicament. Nick gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and kept driving. “I had to save you,” he said, his voice barely discernible above the traffic. “I had no choice.”
Jackie finally looked at him. “What? Save me from . . . oh! Christ, Nick. I wasn’t blaming you. You did what you had to in order to save my life. You didn’t know taking me there would have this effect. I’m just pissed that it did. If I thought going back would reverse it, I’d be sorely tempted to have you drag my ass back.” She gave him a wry smile. “Almost. I have thanked you for saving my life, haven’t I?”
“I believe so, yes,” he said, failing to keep himself from chuckling. “I may have one last request of you to make us even.”
She eyed him warily. “Not going to take advantage of a drunk girl are you, Sheriff?”
“I could if you prefer,” he said. “That’s not what I was going to ask for, but if you’re offering up something different?”
“Not happening, not now,” she said and then winced at her words. “That sounded far harsher than I meant it. I just meant, I’m not . . . fuck. Never mind. What were you going to ask?” She turned and smiled, charming even if it was fake.
“As Nicholas Anderson the philanthropist, I am sometimes asked to give a speech in dedication to something I’ve donated a sum of money to,” he said. He was already picturing Jackie on his arm, walking among the crowd. It was difficult picturing her in a dress and makeup. A look, he decided, that he would very much like to see on her.
“I know,” she answered. “I’ve seen some of the press clippings.”
“I have one coming up in a few days.” He turned and stared at Jackie with his best, bright-eyed gaze. No influence, just a hopeful, politely imploring look. “I’d like it if you came with me, as my date.”
“This sounds like a formal sort of thing, Nick. I’m not really into that stuff.”
“It is, but Shelby would help you get something for it if you don’t have anything formal to wear. She’s very good with clothing, whereas I’d be pleased if you came in jeans and a sweatshirt.” Though you sell yourself short, Ms. Rutledge. You’d be stunning in a strapless dress, and I believe I’d pay money to see you wearing heels. Just once.
Jackie laughed. “So would I. Do you need an answer now?”
“No,” he said. “A couple days. I’ll drag Cynthia to it if you can’t go, but I would like to take you.” He smiled at the look she gave him. She still was having a difficult time with him being interested in her. No pressure though. He had all the time in the world.
The second crime scene took them into a far harsher part of the city, where the overcast skies felt inclined to reach down and mar everything with their bleak and ashen, ever-changing claws. House and yard maintenance did not appear to be a high priority on most resident’s lists. Fortunately it was dark and drizzling, so most of the children were off the streets. Nosy kids at a crime scene could be the worst to deal with.
Nick pulled his car into the cracked driveway, two crumbling paths of cement that led to the back of the house and a single car garage with a caved-in door. Shelby parked her Mini at the curb. Rusting, chainlink fence separated them from a backyard that looked surprisingly well kept. A row of azaleas ran along the fence to the back corner of the garage. The lawn was thick and even, looking recently mowed. A grill stood covered on a wooden deck coming off of the back door. Someone wanted a small place of optimism in a very pessimistic neighborhood.
“You want to wait here while I check things out first?” Nick watched her, his hand gripping the door handle.
“No,” she said, her mouth turning defiant. “I’m fine. Is there anything I should do if I hear or feel something?”
“Just tell me if you do,” Nick said. “Likely it’ll be the cold first. Kind of like—”
“I know what it’s like. No need to remind me.” She opened the door and quickly exited the car, slamming the door behind her.
Careful here, Sheriff. Walking among the lingering dead was habit for him, but for Jackie it was certainly a startling and frightening experience. Seeing them on the other side was one thing. It was over there, away from reality. But on this side, Nick knew full well how that felt. The constant reminder of death had a very unnerving effect. He would attempt to warn Jackie, but she might just as easily sense something at the same time or before him even. No two people’s psychic abilities were the same.
Nick opened and stepped through the gate leading to the back porch. He could already feel the faint tug from whomever had died inside. Jackie stood at the base of the porch, seemingly unaware. He pulled out a small box from his coat pocket. She watched with curiosity until she realized what he had.
“Do I want to know where you learned how to use those?”
He smirked. “Taught myself. Not hard really. Just takes a deft touch.” Pulling out the correct set, Nick made quick work of the lock. “I didn’t want to wait for one of your coworkers to arrange to have the door unlocked.” She watched him with a wide, glassy stare, hands crossed tightly over her chest. “You as cold as you look, Jackie?” But it wasn’t the cold, at least not the sort made by temperature.
Her gaze snapped back and she sucked in her breath. “What?”
Shelby, who had walked up from the street, stopped behind Jackie. “Can feel it, can’t you?”
Jackie looked at each of them and then nodded. Nick said, “Thought so. We’re close to whomever it was.”
“Was is good, long as they’re not here. Just hurry it along,” she said. “I don’t want nosy neighbors wondering why the feds have to break into a crime scene.”
The lock clicked before he had even turned back. “Wait here, OK? I don’t want any ghostly surprises.”
Nick stepped inside. The screen shut behind him but he left the door open.
He was in a small utility room with a stacked washer and dryer. A pair of poles mounted across the other interior wall still had freshly washed clothes hung upon them. He found the switch just inside the door and flipped on the light. One door opened on the right, going to the kitchen. Beyond it, he could smell the lingering scent of bleach and household cleaner. Stepping onto the white, speckled linoleum floor, Nick could understand why nobody was staying in the house. The back corner of the kitchen was a surreal painting of blood spatter. Someone at least had cleaned up the vast pool on the floor, though he could still see faint traces of where it had been.
“It’s right here by the door.” He turned on the harsh, overhead light. “Come on in.”
He could hear Jackie muttering under her breath. “Sure. Let me put on my special ghost gloves first.”
He poked his head out the kitchen door. “It’s safe. Just some blood spatter that didn’t get cleaned up. No active spirits around right now.”
Jackie opened the screen door, gave a cursory glance at the washed clothing, and stepped up by Nick. “Will they pop in unannounced?”
He had opened the screen for her when she stepped up, and Jackie brushed passed him into the kitchen.
“Not likely,” he said.
“You aren’t inspiring my confidence, Nick.”
“We can deal with whatever may show up. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah, this is me not worrying here.” She stared down at the faint traces of outline from the pool of blood that must have been four feet across. “Remind me never to give Laurel shit about getting spooked again.”
Shelby stepped by them, chuckling. “I’m going to check the rest of the house. Be right back.”
“Feeling anything beyond the spiritual residue?” Nick asked.
Jackie looked up from the bloodstained floor. “The what?”
“That sense of Deadworld you feel now is basically the leftovers of the ghost’s presence here. It’s residue of the dead, you might say.”
“Lovely.” Jackie closed her eyes. Nick watched her trying to take deep breaths, but there was a slight, nervous stutter in her chest. Her hands thrust deep into her pockets. “I’m getting nothing.” Nick simply nodded once. It would be some time before her nerves were out of the way. She stared at the dried droplets of blood against the door leading down to the basement. If she was willing, blood might do the trick again.
“This generally works better if the victim is here. It’s a more direct connection. Whatever was here had very negative energy though, but I’m not getting much beyond that,” he said.
Jackie stepped over to the basement door and squatted down on the balls of her feet. Nick smiled down at the finger that hovered in the space between with the slightest tremble. She glanced back at him with a worried little furrow between her eyes. “I touched blood the last time, but I could hear the baby before that.”
“Likely because it still lingered at the scene. The blood allowed you to turn up the volume, so to speak.”
“Does it always work like that?”
“I find there are no absolutes,” Nick replied, “with the living or the dead. All you can do is try and see. We’ll go from there.”
Jackie laid her hand down flat on the door, covering some of the blood spatter. A moment later her body went rigid, frozen in place, eyes wide, staring at nothing. Nick could feel the surge coming through from the other side, a wash of energy flooding back through the doorway that had been closed for several hours now, but at the touch of her finger had sprung open. No effort at all. Astonishing. She cried out, stumbling away from the door.
Nick stepped forward, using his leg to block her backward motion and scooped his arms down around her waist. Something not remotely close to surprise or fear boiled up out of her throat.
“Jackie!”
“I . . . will... kill you!”
She turned in his grasp, and Nick was so startled by the twisted snarl that warped her mouth and pulled the lines of her face into something he could have scarcely imagined, that he did little more than take a stunned half-step backward. Consequently, his reactions were all too humanly slow and the swinging roundhouse from her small, but effective fist caught him square in the mouth.
Nick immediately tasted blood. She had got him good, and she was getting ready to come after him with more.
“Nick? What’s going on?” Shelby stopped before him, having run back from the front of the house at Jackie’s screaming proclamation.
“Jackie!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake, but she reached over to clamp down on his hand with her mouth and forced him to let go. The force of whomever had been here was still quite strong and Jackie had soaked it up like a sponge. He had little choice now but to either bind her up until it faded or snap her out of it. Nick, having always found that directness paid off in the long run, brought his hand around and slapped Jackie across the side of the face.
She yelled in pain and Nick pulled her small body against him, wrapping her up in a big, bear hug. “Jackie? You with me?”
The tension washed out of her in a rush. She sagged against his chest, legs barely able to hold her upright. “Nick? Holy shit! What happened? I touched the wall, and now you’re crushing me in your arms.”
He eased Jackie back on to her feet. “Sorry. I had to keep you from decking me again.”
“What?” She turned, looking up at him in wide-eyed disbelief. A tentative finger reached up to his mouth but didn’t quite touch, before she withdrew it, followed by a sharp inhalation of breath. “Shit. I did that?”
“Yes.” He smiled, splitting his lip open once more and wincing. “Can’t say I expected that, or the ‘You will die’ sentiments either.”
“I did not say that.”
Shelby, who now stood next to them, took Jackie’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes briefly. “I heard you, hon. You were pretty pissed.”
Nick realized he should have been looking for any remaining signs of lingering possession, but the fact it had happened at all still was boggling his mind. “It’s OK. I’ve heard far worse.”
Jackie glanced over at the dried spatter on the door. Her body began to tremble. “But I didn’t say that. I know I didn’t. I’d remember saying something like that.”
Nick gripped her by the shoulders and turned her around. She had the wide-eyed look of a child on the verge of tears, realizing they’re in trouble for something they didn’t even know they had done. “Jackie, look at me. You tapped into the energy left by whoever was here. They were pretty angry. It overwhelmed your senses and you spoke through that emotion. I know it wasn’t you, but the words did come out of your mouth.”
“But . . . but I don’t remember,” she said helplessly. Her shoulders sagged. She kept darting her gaze back and forth between them, looking for some kind of reassurance that neither of them had to give. Not the sort she wanted anyway.
“I know,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “No harm done, though I’d say we’ve just confirmed that your connection to Deadworld is still quite strong.”
“No.” She shook her head. “God, no. This isn’t happening, not to me.”
Shelby laid a soft hand upon her shoulder. “Jackie, it’s all right—”
“No!” Jackie pushed herself away and reached for the back door. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Jackie,” Nick pleaded. “Shit.”
The cold air was a relief after the thick, oppressive heat of the house. Jackie ran to the Porsche, flopping down in the seat and slamming the door shut. A moment later, Nick climbed behind the wheel.
“I can’t be here right now.” Her breath came in ragged gasps. She was close to hyperventilating.
“Deep breaths, Jackie,” Nick said, laying a hand upon her knee. “Slow, deep breaths.”
She filled her lungs and then let it out in a rush. “No. Just need to get the hell away from here.”
Nick nodded. Fair enough. It had been a long time, but he could
still recall those initial days of terror when he realized what he could do.
Jackie huddled against the door, her head resting against the window. Her voice, quiet and distant, sounded almost like a child. “I never escaped from Deadworld,” she said. “We came back, but I never got away.”
Chapter 10
Jackie slammed the apartment door behind her, leaning against it as though someone might try to push their way in. Who knew? Maybe whatever that thing was that had usurped her brain and played puppetry with her body had followed them home. Could ghosts move around at will? Drake had seemed to pop back and forth as it suited him, but he hadn’t actually been a ghost either. Bickerstaff waltzed up and rubbed himself on Jackie’s ankle and she nearly kicked at him in surprise.
“Bickers! Christ. You nut. Can’t you see Mommy is freaking out here?” She picked him up, letting him rub his face against hers. The act was instantly soothing. Nothing like a little unconditional love to calm a racing heart. “You don’t care if I’m turning into a big, ol’ freakish joke, do you, baby?”
Jackie made a beeline for the bathroom, kicking off her shoes along the way. She needed to get the grime of death off her. It was not the usual sort of grime that came from poking and prodding around dead bodies. She could be hip-deep in blood and entrails and not lose her lunch, but this had been different. The death had been inside her somehow, like a poisonous gas that had invaded every cell of her body. Perhaps there could be no getting rid of it once it had entered, fused to one’s very DNA.
With the shower spraying the tiled wall with pure hot water, Jackie gave it a few minutes to build up steam before stepping in. She stared at her face in the mirror, grown sharper the past couple of weeks from lack of eating. Her eyes, once proudly intense, looked weary and, dare she think, fearful? If you looked deep enough could you see the dead in her eyes, too?
The steam began to obscure her image and Jackie gladly turned away. She stepped into the shower to breathe deeply of the warm mist, and hoped maybe some of that death that had somehow invaded her earlier might find its way out through her pores. She turned off the water thirty-odd minutes later when she had reached the limits of her water heater. Her muscles had finally begun to relax and the steam did appear to have cleansed some of the bitter aftertaste of death from her body. Now it was time for a glass of wine, maybe two, and her piano. She needed the piano tonight.
