Dying for a Living (A Jesse Sullivan Novel)

by Shrum, Kory M.

  “Yes, because we replacement agents just love to kill ourselves off.” As soon as the words left my lips, my stomach twitched. I guess I did have a history of killing myself. Garrison’s eyes narrowed. I thought it best to add the very true statement, “Believe me, if I wanted to die, I wouldn’t need Eve’s help.”

  But Bobkins just wouldn’t shut up. “There’s a guy in Auckland who’s killed himself fifty-five times. He does it for kicks, just for fun.”

  I made a strangled sound in my throat as I fought to focus, but really I just wanted to explode. “Uh, Bobkins, did you have a point?”

  His fists went from red to white, as if he’d like nothing better than to pulverize my face.

  Garrison finally spoke up. “This morning at 8:47 A.M. Ms. Gallagher received a call of unknown origin. At 9:23 A.M., she disappeared somewhere near 4th Avenue.”

  “It means you don’t know who called, right? Because that’s not suspicious as hell.” I put my head in my hands, laughed high in my throat and then felt like crying. What was I going to do? How the hell was I going to find Ally?

  Keep breathing, Jesse. Gabriel warned. My skin still itched with electricity.

  “Are you aware that over four hundred replacement agents have died in the last six months? Over a thousand in the last year?” Garrison asked as if to intentionally change the subject.

  “It’s what we do Agent Garrison.” I squeezed my hair in my hands, pulling it away from my temples, hoping from some release of pressure.

  “Dead, dead, Jesse,” he said. “And not just death-replacement agents. Several of the Necronites had not yet made their condition public. That means someone with power and authority is able to discover who has NRD even when they’ve not reported their condition.”

  If Brinkley hadn’t already told me about these attacks, I might have wondered why we were dying. It could have been a virus depleting the Necronite population, or a newly discovered medical “cure” that prevented us from resurrecting anymore. Yet the word Atlanta scrawled across my mind. Someone had decided Necronites deserved to stay dead like the rest of humanity.

  But who was doing it: FBRD, the Church or the military?

  I lifted my head from my hands to see Gabriel was watching me carefully.

  “We think these attacks are only the beginning,” Garrison said.

  Bobkins threw up his hands and turned away. I couldn’t figure out if this was an elaborate dance between them, some kind of cop code, or if Bobkins was genuinely disgusted by Garrison’s willingness to bring me into the loop.

  Over one thousand of the unkillable, killed.

  I wet my lips. “Maybe the military wants us back in protective custody to make super soldiers, or to use us for bio-warfare or whatever. If they scare us enough, maybe we’ll run right back into their camouflaged arms.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Bobkins said, posturing himself like a gorilla or something. “No idiot’s going to believe this shit.”

  I ignored Bobkins and met Garrison’s eyes in a challenge. “Then there’s the FBRD.”

  Garrison cocked his head to one side.

  “You know why they’re suspect,” I told him. “After all, Eve isn’t the only one who gets around.”

  I was close to treason. The Bureau licensed me. They took this high school dropout and gave her a good paying job. I could be unemployed and under-skilled in a heartbeat. But I wanted Garrison to know about the rogue FBRD agent and his connection to Eve. I wanted him to start looking in the right place.

  “Someone like Brinkley,” Bobkins said, mocking my tone.

  I grinned and it was easy. “It’s no secret that Brinkley enjoys watching me die.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Garrison said. He wanted my attention back.

  “Yes I did,” I answered. “You’re not listening.”

  He had the strangest look on his face—doubt, if I didn’t know better. I was willing to bet that Garrison knew something was up in the FBRD. Maybe he’d heard something, or better yet, he’d seen the tapes himself and recognized Eve’s accomplice.

  “That’s enough for now,” Garrison said and stood.

  “A few more questions,” Bobkins said. “Then she can leave.”

  Garrison gave me a look. If I wanted to end this now, I would have to speak up for myself.

  “Look,” I said, struggling to focus my eyes on his. I felt dizzy and lightheaded. That bizarre electrical surge had left me and I was cold. I shivered as if left out in a thunderstorm. “I need sleep and probably a pain pill. So if you’ve got to arrest me, then just take me to a cell where I can lay down. If not, please let me go home. Either way, I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  And Ally, I thought. I have to find Ally.

  Garrison came around the desk and escorted me to the exit. Bobkins glared at me. Just before I was about to walk out of the exit and give Gloria or Lane a call to pick me up, Garrison grabbed me roughly by the elbow.

  “Hey,” I said wrenching my arm away. I was so tired of being manhandled. “We already gave you the paperwork and I’ve done everything I can to prove I’m not a psycho. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

  Garrison let go of my arm. “If you intend to look for your friend, I highly advise against it.”

  “I don’t care what you advise. Your detective skills are crap.”

  “I highly advise against it,” he repeated, stepping over my snarky attitude. “But if I were you, I’d ask Eve Hildebrand.”

  “How the hell can I ask Eve? She’s in jail.”

  “She has visiting hours like every other inmate,” he said. “Alice knew that.”

  Garrison disappeared back into the police station without waiting for a reply.

  “How did she know?” I asked, watching him through the clear doors until his dark shape melted into a torrential sea of others.

  Then I realized what he’d so cryptically suggested.

  She knew because she’d gone to see her.

  Either before or after I ditched Nashville, Ally began her own investigation. I should have known that she wouldn’t sit by and watch the world fall apart any more than I could.

  Chapter 18

  The Davidson County jail was in downtown Nashville, only a couple of blocks away from the James Robertson Parkway police station. On my way over, I used my cell phone to call Gloria and ask her to pick me up from the jail in about an hour. She agreed, otherwise, I would have had to walk the mile to Lane’s comic book store.

  Just before I got to the jail, I popped into the McDonald’s across the street. Good thing considering I looked like the walking dead. I used the soap from the hand dispensers and those scratchy brown paper towels to clean myself, wiping at the smeared makeup and brushing my hair up into a respectable ponytail. I had a toothbrush and no toothpaste. But dry brushing was enough to remove the fuzzy slippers from my teeth.

  I didn’t hold back on the deodorant or body spray either.

  At this point, I felt better except for the acidic feeling in my belly. I was worried about Ally, but there was nothing I could do for her yet.

  The jail was a squat, brick building that couldn’t be any more intimidating with its barred windows, strange noises and bulletproof doors. The boxy shape and uninviting exterior made it look like it wanted to be a prison when it grew up. My heart raced and head pounded, and I got this terrible feeling as I entered the jail.

  The desk attendant was nice enough when he asked me to sign in and take a seat. Once he gathered some papers, he told me to follow him to this room full of narrow glass cubicles. I took the plastic chair that he offered and stared through the empty glass ahead of me. It was like a mirror, each side with a chair, small lip of a table for elbows and a plastic phone attached to a silver cord snaking from the wall. The only difference was no one sat in the chair across from mine. I was trying to figure out what that strange smell was, something like old plastic and antiseptic, when a guard walked through a door and plopped Eve into the chai
r opposite mine.

  He tapped the glass to get my attention. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  The square block of a man exited without a word.

  The last time I saw Eve she was straddling my chest trying to saw off my head. Her appearance hadn’t improved. Her hair hadn’t been washed in a few days and without makeup and her miracle bra, she looked much older. Not to mention, orange was not a great color for her complexion.

  “Your neck healed.” She took a pack of cigarettes out of her jumper pocket and lit one with a match. I still didn’t quite know what to say. Eve gestured with her hands as smoke billowed about her face. “Did you come here for a good look or what?”

  Asking me a direct question helped. I shook my head until the words came. “No, I want to talk about Ally—Alice--Gallagher, the girl that came with me to your replacement. Straight blond hair, nose ring.”

  She nodded in the direction the closed door. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

  “What did you tell her when she came to see you?”

  Eve’s eyes narrowed as she took a long drawl. “She didn’t tell you?”

  “She can’t,” I said. “On account that she’s missing.”

  Her eyes widened. “Since when?”

  “This morning.”

  Eve wouldn’t look at me, lost in her own thoughts. “She asked about the man.”

  “The last one of your Johns,” I said. Where the hell had I heard the word John? It just sort of slipped out. Crappy TV probably. That’s where I learned everything. “What’s his name?”

  “He was a first-timer. He didn’t tell me his name,” she said.

  “Didn’t you ask?”

  “You saw us. We didn’t do much talking, did we?”

  She couldn’t even look me in the face.

  “You tried to cut off my head,” I said and hit the glass just hard enough to make her look up at me. “You could at least tell me what you know.”

  She blinked several times before pretending to care more about her cigarette than what I was saying.

  “You’re a completely worthless human being, aren’t you?” I asked.

  I shoved my chair back with an angry scrape across the hard floor.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked as if actually surprised.

  “Uh, yeah. You won’t tell me who the guy was, you won’t tell me what you told my friend, and you won’t even tell me why you tried to kill me! Not even a ‘well, I had this knife and I just wanted to see what you could do’ or a pathetic ‘Jesus told me to’ or anything. God forbid a ‘Sorry!’”

  I turned to leave but she banged her palms against the glass. When I turned back I saw her mouth moving in wide, exaggerated movements, but I couldn’t hear her words until I picked up the plastic receiver again.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

  I gestured to the phone I held as if to say I’m waiting, but I didn’t sit back down.

  “The guy told me his name was Brad Cestrum,” she whispered. “I swear that’s the only name he gave me. He found me. He made his appointment and gave me very specific instructions. I didn’t see him again until that day in the hotel room. I don’t know anything else about him.”

  “What did you tell Ally?”

  “She asked why I did it. Did someone force me? What was in it for me?”

  “And what did you tell her?” I eased back into my chair.

  Eve’s eyes welled up and her jaw tightened. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Come on,” I said. “I can’t figure out where she went if you don’t give me clues.”

  “She’s missing.” She shook her head. “You’ll just be next.”

  “Why do you care?” I laughed. “You tried to kill me.”

  She wiped tears off her cheeks and cupped her hand over her mouth and the receiver. I barely heard her speak.

  “What?”

  “They have my daughter. They’ll kill her if I tell.”

  It took a moment for my brain to process the whispers. But as the words came together, my anger intensified.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked.

  She made a frantic waving motion with her hand. “Please keep your voice down. Please.”

  I tried to let this set in but frankly it was too much. “I’m supposed to believe you are just a victim? You tried to kill me, but you’re the victim?”

  Tears welled in her eyes again and I slammed the phone down. I took deep breaths while Eve just sat there and cried on the other side of the glass. Finally, once I was able to unclench my jaw, I lifted the receiver again.

  “Look,” I began, kicking myself the whole time. “It’s clear that you’ve been forced into a bad position. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I know you’re scared, but you have to be honest with me. Apparently, you can’t or won’t tell the authorities, but I’m not an authority. More importantly, it seems we are after the same people, so we can help each other out, right? But I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what you know.”

  She nodded, wiping her face on her sleeve.

  According to the clock on my phone, we had two minutes. “Talk fast.”

  She whispered so low that I could barely hear her. I was forced to press my ear to the grimy phone just to make out her words. “Two months ago he found me and paid me to get information about you and your office schedule. I sent another girl into the office to ask questions. It was an easy $100. So when he asked me if I wanted to make more, I said sure. He said to get you to the hotel at the right day and time and he’d do the rest. Then the bastard took my daughter the day before the replacement to make sure I kept my appointment. And he told me if I wanted to get her back—I had to kill you myself.”

  “So he took her on the 19th?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  “They took your daughter and told you if you didn’t kill me in the hotel room, they’d hurt her.”

  “I’m real sorry about your neck, but I’d do it again for my little girl.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving her on. I couldn’t think about that or I’d just get mad again. “So what happened?”

  “They were supposed to return her to my momma after I was arrested but they didn’t. Then he turned up here.”

  “Who?”

  “Brad,” she said. “He says my daughter is still safe. He let me see her on his video phone. But he also said that if I confessed or told anyone anything, they’d kill her. I’m supposed to stick to my story.”

  “What’s your story?” I asked. Tick, tock, tick tock.

  “I know prostitution is wrong and I thought that by killing one of God’s enemies, I would be forgiven and granted a place in Heaven.”

  “Did you tell Ally all of this?” I asked.

  “She promised to find my daughter. But they probably killed her and my baby too.”

  “You don’t know Ally,” I argued. “She’s head and shoulders above the rest of us mere mortals, so she’s definitely smarter than the goons who threatened you. If she promised you she’d find your daughter, she will.”

  I hoped that Ally was just hiding somewhere with the kid. And I didn’t tell Eve that because for all I know, she’d turn right around and tell Brad. I had a feeling she’d kill me herself right now if she had the chance—whatever improved her chances of seeing her kid.

  “What her name?” I asked. “Your kid?”

  “Nessa,” Eve said. It was the first time I saw her smile since I met her. A small but sweet smile.

  The door behind her opened and the block-shaped guard yanked Eve out of the seat.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. I couldn’t believe I was trying to comfort the person who’d nearly killed me. “We will find her.”

  Eve looked about as convinced as I was—not much.

  Almost an hour later, I stumbled stiffly down the steps and fell into the passenger seat of Gloria’s gold Buick, idling at the curb. I drew in the deep bre
ath that I needed.

  She waited until I closed the heavy door before she spoke. “You need a favor.”

  “I need a favor,” I confirmed.

  “Just ask.”

  “I need you to view Nessa Hildebrand,” I said. “Eve’s daughter. I’m sure we can find a picture of her from St. Mary’s yearbook or something if you need.”

  “I already have a picture of Nessa,” Gloria said.

  “Why?” She was good at guessing the future, but I’d be real impressed if she was this far ahead of me.

  “Ally asked for the same favor,” she replied.

  Of course Ally was smart enough to enlist Gloria’s help too. “Anything yet?”

  “I’m still working on it.”

  I was kind of hoping that Gloria had given Ally the information. At least then it would’ve been likely that Ally was hiding with the little girl somewhere instead of kidnapped. Or dead.

  I was scared to ask my next question. “What about Ally? Do you know she’s missing?”

  Her lips pressed together and then put her car into drive. “I’m working on that too.”

  Chapter 19

  Once Gloria dropped me off, I took my last pain pill and went to bed. I stayed in bed, snuggled in a mound of pillowy fluff, and refused to get up. I was suspended from work, under investigation, everyone was MIA, and my mother had just died.

  But I woke around nine the next morning to someone climbing into bed with me.

  Lane snuggled in, completely naked mind you, and pretended to be asleep. I poked his cheek until his eyes opened.

  “I have two guest bedrooms,” I said. “And I’m going to take your key away if you keep creeping up on me.”

  He stretched his arms high overhead. “Ally gets to sleep in your bed.”

  “You’re not Ally.”

  “Quit reminding me,” he growled. He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. A wave of heat and clenching tension shot from my stomach to my groin. I shuddered and he took that as an invitation to roll me over and pin me, planting playful kisses on both of my cheeks. He even dared to sneak one under my ear.

  Having not had sex for a few days, I felt ridiculously easy.