by J N Duncan
She sounded bitter. He had said something about them refusing to drink any more blood after he had developed the synthetic. “So you disagree with Nick’s abstaining?”
Shelby sighed and turned off the razor. “Nick believes that being moral is better than being just. He’s too pigheaded for his own good sometimes.”
Jackie thought about that while the water rinsed the shampoo from her hair. That was a tough call. Still, she wondered if she could live with herself if she needed to act immorally to achieve justice. “Why can’t you have both?”
The shower curtain pulled back, and Shelby stuck her head in. “You want to catch Laurel’s killer?”
The question churned her gut. “More than anything.”
Shelby’s face looked grim and sad. “Then it’s going to take blood. One way or another. Which is going to leave you with the clearer conscience in the end, Jackie? Morality or justice?”
Jackie realized unequivocally what the answer to that was. “I want to kill the fucker.”
Shelby nodded and grabbed a towel. “Exactly. And now you know why Nick just pisses me off.”
Jackie turned off the water and grabbed the towel. “He’s right, though, for the most part.” It occurred to her then just how hard it must be for him to try to balance those two clashing needs. “He thinks he’s going to die trying to get Drake, doesn’t he?”
“So do I,” Shelby stated. “It doesn’t stop me from doing what I think needs to be done.”
Her tone sent a shiver down Jackie’s spine. “That include drinking more blood?” Shelby’s look answered the question for her. “Just don’t tell me when you do, okay? I don’t want to have to arrest you.”
She laughed. “Hon, at that point, you won’t be able to.”
The thought chilled her. “You two scare the shit out of me.”
“We’re not the ones you need to be scared of, Jackie. We’re on your side.”
“I know that now.” She needed them. She needed to work with a couple vampires to catch another one. This supernatural shit was too much. The aching loneliness for Laurel’s presence suddenly burned inside her. Jackie draped the towel over the curtain rod and put her robe back on. “How am I going to do this, Shelby?” She had not meant to ask the question out loud. Shelby was a virtual stranger, yet she felt some sort of friendship to her already.
Shelby turned and looked at Jackie and immediately stepped over to give her a hug. “You start by getting through today, and, little by little, it will get easier. I miss her, too, and I barely knew her.”
Jackie swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill again. “It’s like the good half of me is gone now. I’m not even sure how to function anymore.”
“Aw, hon. I know the feeling, but you’ll rebuild yourself, and you’ll never forget the things she brought to your life.”
She sniffed against Shelby’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know, but… I never thought it could hurt this much.”
Shelby stepped back, her hands on Jackie’s shoulders. “You’ll need to be strong, Jackie, if you’re going to see her again.”
“What?”
“If Laurel crosses over again and tries to contact you, you need to be strong enough to handle that.”
“Then… last night? It was real?” She had not been imagining it. Laurel’s ghost had been trying to talk to her. “Fuck! I completely blew it.”
“Quit being so hard on yourself. It’s not an easy thing to deal with, and you had other issues.”
Jackie turned away. “You must think I’m a total nut job.”
“Hardly,” she reassured her, “but now is not the time to rehash old shit. That’s what therapists are for. The question is will you be able to handle seeing Laurel again when she shows up?”
The thought both exhilarated and terrified her. “You think she will?”
Shelby gave her a confident smile. “Oh, I think it’s a matter of when, not if.”
God! What the hell would she say? Sorry about the whole “not saving you” thing? Great to see you, and really sorry you’re dead? I wish it had been me? “I don’t know if I could talk to her without turning into a blubbering idiot.”
“Blubbering idiot is fine,” Shelby said and chuckled. “Just don’t pass out or run screaming in the other direction.”
“I’ll really see her again?” Jackie could hardly believe the possibility.
“Almost guaranteed, but it could be anytime or anywhere. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility.”
“Should I look forward to this?” she wondered. “What if Laurel’s really pissed off?”
Shelby reached up and grabbed Jackie’s deodorant off the shelf containing the few toiletries she had. “Laurel? Pissed? We talking about the same beautiful psychic here?”
“Okay, point taken. She wouldn’t be pissed. I think. So what do we do now?”
“Breakfast.”
The mere word made her stomach rumble in anticipation. “That sounds good. I’m actually hungry.”
Shelby followed her into the bedroom and borrowed a clean T-shirt. It was like having an older sister come by and rummage through her stuff. She watched Shelby slip off the old shirt, exposing a long, thorny rose vine tattooed down her spine. The stem disappeared somewhere between her cheeks. Seeing it reminded Jackie that Laurel had had a big thing for tattoos but never had the nerve to go get herself poked with needles to get one.
“Laurel would have really liked you,” she said. In its way, the statement was about as close as Jackie could get at the moment to admitting her like for Shelby.
Shelby gave her a wistful smile. “She did. I’m sad we didn’t have more time.”
Jackie heaved a sigh. Everything about Laurel was putting her on the constant verge of tears. “Me, too.”
“Come on, hurry up,” Shelby said. “You need to keep your mind from brooding, and that means getting back to work.”
“Am I strong enough for this?” Why the hell am I asking her this? She realized it would have been something to ask Laurel. Stability. Shelby Fontaine was about as rock solid as you could get, even if she did have one foot in the grave. “I feel like I have loser stamped on my forehead now.”
Shelby turned and crossed her arms over her chest, a very “what the fuck” look on her face. “You catch murderers for a living, Jackie. It doesn’t come much tougher than that. You didn’t catch them just because of Laurel. Prove it to yourself and to her. Remember, she’s dead, but she’s not gone.”
Jackie pulled on her boots and began to tie them. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds.”
“And true nonetheless.”
Yes. Disturbingly true. Laurel had tried to contact her and would probably try again. Was it possible to want and dread something so much at the same time?
Back out in the living room, Nick stopped his blissfully melancholy song when they exited the bedroom. “We going somewhere?”
Shelby nodded. “Breakfast. There’s a Cracker Barrel down the road.”
Nick looked at them both, and Jackie wondered what his thoughts were about this whole debacle. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment, studying her. He shrugged. “All right.”
She hated the fact that he was so difficult to read. Maybe Shelby would show her a trick to looking a vampire in the eye without completely freaking out. They were heading out the door when her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she saw that it came from Gamble. It was awfully early for a wake-up call.
“Hey, Jack,” he said with concern. “You functional?”
“More or less. Getting some food and coming in.”
“Good to hear, ’cause we’ve got vic number four here.”
Damnit. Cracker Barrel had actually sounded good.
Chapter 38
Shelby left in Nick’s car to go get her motorcycle and meet them at the scene. Nick now sat silently in the Durango’s passenger seat, looking straight ahead. Jackie could not help but feel he was somehow usurping Laurel’s spot in her truck. Maybe i
t was just the silence. Laurel would not have let things be quiet for so long-she would have had something to say, whether important or inane, to fill the void. Jackie wondered if, in fact, Laurel had come up with things to say because she knew the silence made Jackie uncomfortable. It begged the question of just how much Laurel had done in general to keep things running smoothly, because Jackie now realized she had been walking along the brink for a very long time.
“Nick?” She had to talk about something. Maybe it was a male thing to be comfortable in silence, but she could not handle it any longer.
He didn’t bother turning. “What?”
“You bothered about earlier, with all that you… you know.. . said? If you-”
“No. Just thinking about things.”
“Case related? If it is, you might want to clue me in. I’ve been known to be helpful on occasion.”
His glance finally flicked in her direction. “I was thinking about Drake and what happened at the warehouse.”
The subject left her mute for a moment while her stomach knotted. Shit, okay. I can do this. I have to be able to talk about what happened. It’s just a case. “Okay… so what gives?”
Nick turned and looked at her, the brown, luminescent eyes appraising. “I thought it better to avoid talking about that incident just now.”
She leaned on the horn at some ignorant motorist who had not seen the flashing light mounted on the roof of her truck. Jackie wondered if perhaps Nick was right, but that was not going to stop her. “Are you trying to coddle me?”
“What? Coddle?” He leaned away from her, a look of surprise on his face. “No. I was just…” He stopped, and the corner of his mouth turned up a hair. “Yes. I apologize. I just didn’t think it wise.”
A McDonald’s loomed ahead, and Jackie jumped on the brakes, whipping into the parking lot. She pulled in behind three other cars waiting at the drive-through. “You are working with me on this case, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” he said. “We agreed-”
“Good. I’ll readily admit we need yours and Shelby’s help on this case. Vampires-or whatever you are-is beyond our scope. We don’t have a fucking clue, okay? But if you’re going to assist, that means filling me in on everything and anything that might be pertinent to this case. It’s that whole give-and-take of information, formulating plans of attack, and all the other bullshit that goes with it.”
“I realize that, Jackie, but, it’s just… I know everything must be pretty damn raw right now.”
Her knuckles went white on the steering wheel as she gripped it in frustration. “You’re right. It’s raw as hell, and this is really fucking hard right now, but I’ll manage. So spare my feelings when other people’s lives aren’t on the line, okay?” She lowered the window as they reached the speaker. “Egg McMuffin and a large coffee, black. What do you want, Nick?”
“No cash on me,” he said.
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Two hash browns, sausage and egg biscuit, another large coffee, black. That’s it.” She pulled forward, staring straight ahead. God! Five minutes with the man, and he was already annoying the crap out of her. “I think the FBI can front you for some fast-food if you can manage not to treat me like a cracked egg.”
She paid for the food and handed Nick his bag and coffee. He gave her a hesitant smile. “Thanks. I’ll try not to coddle you anymore.”
Admittedly, Jackie knew she wanted nothing more. Anything to protect her from the bottomless hole that had opened in her gut, and the despair and loneliness that gnawed at her insides. She dug the sandwich out of her bag and began to eat before they had pulled back out onto the road. Crap that it was, it tasted damn good.
“I’d appreciate that,” she said. “We’re both professionals here, and we have a job to do. So let’s get to it.” At least she sounded confident.
She watched him lay a hash brown between the biscuits with the sausage and take a huge bite. After a moment, he washed it down with coffee. “I was thinking about what Drake did when he left the scene.”
Jackie had not even considered that fact in the time since. Drake had just vanished, and at the time, just the fact he had gone was all that mattered. There had been more important things going on. She shoved the images out of her mind. “He just up and vanished. Shelby got off a couple shots on him, didn’t she?”
“Too late by then. He’d already stepped through to Deadworld.”
“This is bad because?”
“It’s bad because I had thought for all this time that you couldn’t do that, that crossing over was basically it. Once in Deadworld, you were pretty much dead.”
God how she hated that name. Why couldn’t he call it something else, like “the other side” or “Ghostland”? “So he can go over and come back whenever he wants to?”
“Apparently.”
This did not sound like it would help them much. “Can you go there?”
He shrugged. “Never tried. I think it must require a lot of blood to hold the door open like that.”
“Great. Then how can we catch the bastard?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. He can do that at will, but I have no idea how we can.”
“Lovely.”
They reached the scene of victim number four under a cloak of ashen, threatening skies and the whirling flash of lights from a dozen law-enforcement vehicles. Jackie pulled her Durango into the parking lot of the Julietta Marconni Assisted Living Community and turned off the engine. She stared at the bank of blinking lights and yellow strands of crime-scene tape cordoning off the front of the building. Her mouth went dry, and clammy hands worked nervously on the wheel. To her horror, Jackie realized she was afraid to get out of the truck.
Nick opened his door. “You ready, Agent Rutledge?”
Jackie could not make her hands let go of the wheel. She licked her lips and said nothing, her blank stare reflecting the orange, red, and blue flashing lights. She wanted Laurel there with her. Not having her there felt completely and terribly wrong.
Nick’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “You okay, Jackie?”
She shook her head. “No.” So much for sucking it up and dealing with your shit.
“Hey,” he said, his voice both calm and demanding. “Look at me.” When she refused, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Jackie, look at me.”
Jackie forced her head around, tearing her gaze away from the overwhelming scene in front of her. “What?”
His eyes locked on to hers, and this time she could not look away. That soft glow and intensity held her. “You can do this. You are strong, capable, and more than able to work on your own.”
She sighed and let go of the wheel. “I know. It just feels all wrong.”
He nodded. “I know, and it will for a while. It’s hard, but you can do it. Trust me.”
Jackie shivered and sucked in a deep breath. “Goddamn, this sucks. Okay, let’s get this over with.”
Nick let go of her and stepped out of the truck. Jackie could feel the lingering imprint of his fingers on her shoulder, and she wondered if he had just pulled one of his voodoo mind tricks on her. Did it matter? The paralyzing fear had subsided into the background, and for the moment it was all she needed. She got out and followed Nick toward the chaos.
Inside the front door, Jackie stepped right into Pernetti and his flappy-lipped grin. “Looking good there, Jack.”
Before she could open her mouth to reply, Gamble walked up behind him and cuffed the back of his head. “Shut the hell up, Pernetti.” Gamble smiled at her, a poorly disguised look of sympathy on his face. “Can’t tell you how glad I am you’re here, Jack.” He thrust out his hand to Nick. “Mr. Anderson. Thanks for coming to help out. We appreciate it.”
Nick shook his hand. “Yeah, no problem, Agent Gamble.” He looked around the lobby, shaking his head. “I should’ve guessed. Plain as goddamn day.”
Everyone turned to try to follow his gaze. Gamble looked excited for a moment. “What? You s
ee something?”
“This place. I should have thought of it. My company funded this place. It’s named after my mother.”
Jackie stared at him. “No shit?” She was getting annoyed, as they were all ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be in command of this case.
“Corporate profits put to good use,” Nick replied with a wan smile.
She had no energy for a snappy retort. “So we know why he picked this place. Great. Tell me what we’ve got here, Gamble.” Standing around was getting on her nerves.
Gamble waved them forward through the lobby and led them toward a door on the far side. “She’s in here. Cleaning crew found her this morning about six. Same as the others, looks like. Scene looks pretty clean, from what I can tell. She’s got some kind of rag doll tucked under her arm, which I’m guessing has some kind of tie to Nick.”
The room was filled with the faint, sickly sweet scent of death, which had Jackie pausing as she entered the room, the image of Laurel on the stainless-steel table filling her head. There were numerous chairs and tables in the room, most of them filled with what looked like baskets of yarn and sewing needles. There were quilts full of color and detailed with intricate patterns and needlework hanging on the walls.
Nick looked at the elderly woman sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room. One arm dangled down, a thin, dark trail of dried blood running from elbow to fingertip. She looked otherwise like she might have slumped over from a stroke or heart attack, if not for the small hole in her arm.
“This some kind of quilting or crocheting class?” Jackie wondered.
“Yep,” Gamble said. “All sorts, apparently. They make the quilts to raise money for community projects. I guess they sell pretty well, from what the director said.”
“I have a couple of them myself,” Nick added quietly. He reached down and gingerly took the doll from under the woman’s arm. “The doll is my daughter’s. My mother made several of them for her.” His shoulders visibly slumped as he held the doll in his hands. “This one was her favorite. They went everywhere together.”
Jackie felt a pang of sympathy for him. He had been forced to relive his own horrors again and again. She had not truly understood the sadistic nature of the vengeance being exacted upon Nick. “She’ll be next then, right? Some representation of your daughter?”
