by J N Duncan
“You have a bit of an advantage there,” Nick said. “Most people don’t understand what they’re seeing even when they do look.”
The thought of another vampire chilled Jackie to the bone. The image of the Thatcher house from the night before filled her head, with the ghosts drifting across the ground toward the house. Drake had been able to do that, to use them in order to gain power. Nick had done it to save their lives. “God, I hope you’re wrong.”
Shelby turned off of Main Street and parked next to the diner. She turned and looked back at Nick. “You think it’s Charlotte, don’t you, babe?”
He was silent for a long moment. “Possibly. I want to see the picture Laurel describes first. It might tell me for sure.”
“Then let’s go,” Jackie said. “There’s no point in talking to Margolin now.” Suddenly, she wanted to be very far away from this place.
“No,” Nick replied. “We talk to him. He’s been here for two days now. There’s a chance he’s met whoever it is. He might know something.”
Jackie took out her cell and dialed Margolin’s number. He picked up on the second ring. “Margolin?”
“Agent Rutledge,” he said, sounding pleased. “You’re here early. Afraid to get out of the car?”
“What?” Jackie turned around and saw Margolin standing on the corner outside the diner’s door. He waved.
“Thought you might get here early,” he said. “So, let’s talk.”
“Asshole.” Jackie clicked off the phone and shoved open the door. “He’s here.”
“I see that,” Shelby replied. “You know, for a reporter, he’s actually kind of cute.”
“Yeah, well.” Jackie stepped out onto the sidewalk. “He may be one of those people I don’t mind if you bleed a little.”
“You’re so sweet.” Shelby stepped out and Nick joined her. “You should keep this one, babe. She’s got attitude.”
“I’d be careful,” Nick replied. “That attitude is going to punch you in the mouth.”
She laughed. “Already tried. Isn’t that right, Jackie?”
Nick looked across the top of the Explorer at her with a curious expression, and Jackie bit off her retort. “Let’s go before I try again.”
Inside the diner, Shelby slid in next to Margolin and gave him her charming, come-hither smile. “Hello, Margolin. Shelby Fontaine, but I guess you know that already.”
Jackie moved in across from him, pleased to see Margolin shift away from Shelby, turning so that he could face her more. Molly the waitress approached, coffee pot in hand, face pulled taut into a what Jackie swore was a sneer. She walked by without stopping. What the hell was that?
“OK, Ghostbusters,” Margolin said. “This is your dime. What’ve you got for me?”
How about I wipe that smarmy grin off of your face? Laurel’s presence began to come forward.
Yes, I know! Don’t worry. I’ve got this. “That depends on you, Margolin,” Jackie said. “I’m not going to spoon-feed you a story. If you want to take, you’re going to have to give.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Jackie wanted to smile at Shelby, who kept inching in on Margolin’s personal space. He could not wedge himself into the corner of the booth any further. “What it comes down to is this, Margolin. You want to know what we’re doing here, then help us find out more about Charlotte and Rebecca Thatcher.”
“The Thatcher girls?” He sounded surprised. “This is about them? You’re kidding, right? They’re like, fourteen. They’re these old-fashioned sweethearts.”
“And they’re not actually Thatchers,” Jackie said. It was time to take a risk. “Officially, neither one of them exists. We’re trying to find out why and exactly who they are.”
“That makes no sense,” he said. “Charlie’s a wonderful girl, loves her family. Why would you be going after her?”
“Mr. Margolin,” Nick said. “We’re not after anyone. We’re trying to find out what happened in this town. There are things going on here that aren’t normal, but we know that much of what has happened here revolves around what happened to the Thatchers. They may be in danger if we don’t get to the bottom of this soon.”
Good play, Nick. Work on his sympathies. Shelby leaned into him, her hand sliding across the table until it touched Margolin’s.
“They might get killed,” she said in a soft voice.
Margolin laughed and pulled his hand away. “You guys trying to scare me? Who’s going to kill them? The only danger around here to the Thatchers is you all. What were you doing up there last night?”
“Trying to get a picture of the Thatcher girls,” Jackie said. “Despite what you might think, Margolin, there is no hidden FBI conspiracy going on here. We aren’t FBI. We’re investigating a paranormal occurrence in Thatcher’s Mill.”
The easy smile dissolved into a smirk. “And who gave you the case?”
Jackie sagged back in the seat. “Oh, I don’t know, Phil, who do you think? It was right there on the file box.”
“All right, then,” he said. “What’s the FBI want with Thatcher’s Mill? Why do you want to ruin this poor girl’s life with your invasion of her life?”
Jackie spluttered. “Invasion? What the hell did she tell you? We haven’t done a damn thing to them.”
“Nice try, Rutledge,” he snapped back. “You’ve been threatening—”
Sirens interrupted him, followed by the screech of tires and the flashing red and blue of police lights. Carson’s car lurched to a stop behind the Explorer.
Jackie sighed. So much for Margolin. The fucking twerp. “Great. Everyone’s favorite backwoods cop. This should be fun.”
Nick slid out of the booth. “We need to lay low on this and get out of here.”
Jackie could hear Carson’s door slam shut. As much as she wanted to jump in his face over this mess, she knew Nick was right. The guy would arrest any or all of them on a whim, and they could not afford such a setback at this point, not with the possibility of those girls being in danger or Rebecca at least. She prayed Nick was wrong about the whole vampire angle.
“I’d suggest leaving them alone,” Margolin said. “They aren’t your story.”
She ignored him, heading for the door. Molly the waitress stood at the cash register, a smug look on her face. “Don’t come back now.”
Jackie resisted the urge to slap her. Whatever happened to small town friendliness? Tucker, the cook, leaned against the entry back to the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, a similar acrimonious smile on his face. Once outside, she found Carson standing behind the Explorer, ticket book in hand.
“A problem, Chief Carson?” she asked.
“Besides you three? No,” he replied. “Getting kind of tired of you poking around in our affairs, Ms. Rutledge. Folks aren’t happy, and when my town isn’t happy, I’m not happy.”
“And the ticket?”
He pointed down at the sidewalk. “You’re over a foot from the curb.”
“We were just heading out,” she said.
He ripped off a copy of the ticket and handed it to her. “Good. See that you don’t come back.”
Jackie glanced at the ticket. The fine was five hundred dollars. “Jesus Christ! Five hundred for a parking violation?”
“We enforce our laws around here,” he said. “I see you again and maybe you’ll see what we do for harassment charges.”
The ticket crumpled up in her fist. “You threatening me, Carson?”
He stuffed the ticket pad back into his pocket and that thin line of a mustache twisted up into a smile. “It’s no threat. You’ve worn out your welcome here, all of you. Come back and I’ll see to it you spend a night in my cozy little cell.”
Nick stopped at her side, his hand settling gently on the back of her arm. “Let’s go, Jackie. This is trouble we don’t need.”
“That’s right,” Carson said. “I’m trouble you don’t need. Might try listening to your man there, Ms. Rutledge.”
; Jackie jerked her arm away from Nick. “When I come back, Carson, you better hope Rebecca Thatcher is still alive, because if anything has happened to her, I’m coming after you first.”
The worm on his lip drifted back down. “Rebecca? You think I have a problem with the Thatchers?” He laughed, the belly hanging over his belt jiggling with mirth. “You guys are dumber than I thought.”
Shelby suddenly appeared between them, and Jackie’s forward momentum carried her into Shelby’s back. “You’ll have to excuse, Ms. Rutledge,” she said. “She has some authority issues.”
Nick slipped his hand around Jackie’s arm more firmly this time. “Jackie, leave this. Let’s go.”
Hon, this isn’t the time or place, Laurel said. Don’t jeopardize the case for this. He’ll get what’s coming.
Jackie turned away and marched around to the front of the car. “He’s going down,” she said and yanked open the door. “Got that, Carson? Your days as a cop are numbered.”
“You might see that she has a little more respect for authority,” Carson said.
Jackie watched Nick walk by in the rearview mirror and stop in front of Carson, standing nearly a head above him. “She has a great deal of respect for the law,” he said. “We just have no respect for you, Chief Carson. Good day.”
Shelby climbed into the driver’s seat. “What a prick. Just take a breath, babe. I want to punch the little fucker just as much as you do.”
Nick finally climbed in. “All right. Let’s get out of here, before I decide Jackie was right and we beat the life out of that sorry excuse for a cop.”
The Explorer wheeled around and Carson stared them down. “Stay out of my town,” he yelled.
Chapter 18
Jackie breathed in the sweet, familiar scents of FBI headquarters, picked up a Styrofoam cup of horrid coffee for old time’s sake, and made the rounds of the office to say hello to anyone who was there. She had really hoped to see Belgerman, to fill him in personally on how things were going, but he was out for meetings. His presence would have been a comfort.
She gave McManus the rundown, who looked worried after hearing about the run-in with Carson.
“You’re going back, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Of course, we are,” Jackie said. “We aren’t done yet.”
“And if he arrests you? You realize you’re out of our jurisdiction over there. That’s the Omaha office’s area. They’ll have to get you out.”
That might be an issue. Jackie did not really know anyone there. “What if things pan out the way we’re thinking?”
“If you verify the paranormal activity, Belgerman should intervene,” he said. “It’ll take me a few hours to get there regardless.”
“Then I’ll just have to avoid getting arrested, won’t I?” She smiled at his look of consternation. “Look. If we can prove a kidnapping or, God forbid, Charlotte Thatcher is a vampire, you should be able to get authority to move in and help, right?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Just don’t jump the gun, Jack. I really don’t want to deal with dragging your butt out of jail.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah. This is me not worrying.”
There was a knock on the conference room door, and the sketch artist came in.
Laur? You ready for this?
Of course. This will be fun.
Jackie smiled up at the bespectacled, rumpled man who carried nothing more than a laptop case. “Hi there. Ready to draw?”
There was actually no drawing at all, so thinking of the guy as a sketch artist had been something of a misnomer. After setting up the program, he led Jackie through an endless spectrum of questions, guided at narrowing down the details of Rebecca from the neck up. Jackie had never seen anyone operate this program before in person, so it was fascinating to see the generic face on the screen gradually morph into the likeness of the girl they were hoping to positively identify. An hour and two vile cups of coffee later, Laurel was finally satisfied with the image on the screen.
That’s really close. At least as much as I can remember. Now for Charlotte?
Yeah, just give me a few minutes here.
She had the image sent down to Hauser to run against possible missing persons reports and had him run it on general description for as far back as the computers would allow within two hundred miles of Thatcher’s Mill. If their theory held, they might get lucky and get a couple of hits on other girls who had disappeared over the years who matched Rebecca’s general description.
When she was ready, they began working on Charlotte Thatcher’s likeness. It was done about forty-five minutes later. Nick and Shelby were seated with them over the final fifteen minutes of the routine of relaying Laurel’s information. Toward the end, Nick began to add some of his own alterations.
Jackie watched him point and make suggestions with growing trepidation. “It’s her, isn’t it, Nick. You can remember the details after so long?”
“It’s the sort of thing that gets burned into your memory,” Nick replied. “You tend to remember those who’ve tried to kill you.”
An image of Morgan flashed through her mind, leering over her with wild-eyed madness, right before his possessed body had smashed her head against the floor and then bled out next to her. She would never forget that face. “So, is it her?”
“I can’t be one hundred percent sure until I see her in person, but ...”—he sagged back in his chair, face grim with regret—“it sure looks like Charlotte Thatcher.”
“Fuck.” Vampires. Bloody, fucking vampires. “We have to be sure. This will change everything we’ve been doing.”
The images were put onto a memory stick and handed to Jackie. The image modeler, as he liked to call himself, closed up the laptop. “Will you be needing anything else?”
McManus got up and shook his hand. “No, thanks, Pat. You’ve been a big help.” When he was gone, McManus sat back down. “So. What’s the next step?”
“We have to go see Charlotte Thatcher,” Jackie said. “It’s the only way to verify the truth here.”
“And if it’s true?” he asked.
Jackie’s reply was interrupted by her phone. It was Hauser.
“Got something for you here, Jack. You might want to come down here and see.”
“On our way.” She clicked off the phone and got up. “Hauser’s got something. Let’s go see what it is.”
The geek room was its usual, dimly lit cavern aglow with computer screens. Several of the geeks hollered at Jackie and waved, who sheepishly waved back amid Shelby’s chuckling. Hauser saved her, though, by waving them into his office, where his long, arcing desk housed three large computer screens.
Hauser surprised Jackie with a warm embrace. “Good to see you, Jack! Looking your usual, worn-out self, I see.”
“Sleep is for lazy, computer geeks,” she said. “It’s nice to see you all again.”
He plopped down in his chair. “Yeah, well you will owe me a six pack after you see this. I think we finally got something for you.”
They gathered behind Hauser, who had one screen displaying a map with numerous red dots scattered across its surface, while the other had a picture of Rebecca Thatcher. It was displayed as part of the usual missing persons release police departments issued.
“Holy shit,” Shelby exclaimed. “There she is. Jessica Davies of Madison, Wisconsin.”
Jackie pointed at the other screen. “What’s with all the points of interest on the map, Hauser?”
“Those,” he said with a smile, “are hits on missing persons reports matching the general description you gave me on this Rebecca girl. That’s twenty year’s worth.”
“Damn. How many are there?”
“Forty-seven,” he said, “but I haven’t gone through them all yet to see if any can be weeded out. Notice a nice little pattern there?
Thatcher’s Mill made a near perfect bull’s-eye in the center of the red dots. “Even if half th
ose victims are unrelated, that’s a Rebecca a year for the past twenty years. Fuck. She could have a hundred victims.” The thought knotted her stomach. They could have one of the worst serial killers of all time on their hands.
“If it is indeed Charlotte,” Nick replied, “you’re probably right.”
Jackie turned to him at the sound of his voice. He stared at the map on the screen or rather seemed to be staring through it to some far-off place. Shelby laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You had no idea back then, babe. You couldn’t have known,” Shelby said.
Hauser looked up at them, confused. “Known what? What am I missing here?”
“I think I did,” Nick said quietly. “I just didn’t want to believe it.”
“Nothing, Hauser,” Jackie replied. “Can you run the other girl just in case and then send it all over to Cynthia. We’ll want this on our files at the office.”
“Sure thing, Jack. This get you what you need?”
“I think so. I’ll buy you that six-pack when we’re done,” she said. “We should get going.”
Back in the elevator, McManus was worried. “Jack, you guys aren’t about to go after another vampire, are you?”
“We need to verify this,” she said. “I don’t want to bring you guys in and have it all blow up in our faces. We’ve got that reporter, who isn’t very sympathetic to our work, watching our every move.”
“I don’t like this,” he said. “Belgerman won’t either.”
“I know,” Jackie replied, “but I can’t blow this on the first case. If we’re wrong, this whole thing would turn into one, big clusterfuck.”
“You call the second you know. Don’t try anything without backup.”
“Hey, I’ve learned my lesson on that one, don’t worry.”
Shelby snorted with laughter at that and McManus shook his head. “See this face? This is my worried face again.”
Once out to the car, Shelby turned to Nick, jabbing a threatening finger at him. “Get over this right now, babe. You tried to help her then, and you couldn’t. It’s done. She’s not that girl anymore.”
“No,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “She’s not.”
