by J N Duncan
Pernetti hefted out a large barreled rifle from one of the crates and popped a canister of ammo into it. Tear gas would flush out Carson, Margolin, and the others, but Jackie doubted it would do much against Charlotte or maybe even Jessica. The voices kicked into overdrive when Pernetti moved toward Jackie with the teargas launcher. Jackie turned quickly away, looking up through the rain and the faint lights of the Thatcher house.
She’s up there, girls. We’re about to go. Just hold on a couple of minutes. “Am I set here? My leverage is going bonkers and it feels like my head is about to pop off of my neck. Just keep me informed and give me heads up when you’re about to play ball.”
Nick’s hand settled on her shoulder, and the familiar warmth flooded into her. It was scary how soothing it was in such a short time, hitting her nerves in just the right way. The girls immediately calmed down. “Get out of there at the first sign of trouble, Jackie. If Charlotte is playing an end game here, trying to get Jessica is irrelevant. You’re more important.”
“So, I don’t get to play the tragic heroine?”
“That’s my job,” Shelby said. “If anyone gets to go down guns blazing, it’s me. You do something stupid, Jackie, and I can track you down no matter where you are.”
“These warm fuzzies are going to make me cry,” Jackie replied. “Look, I’m going in, finding out what she wants, what the place looks like as much as I can, and using my leverage to get out if I have to. Ten minutes tops.” Plus or minus the eight million things that might or could go wrong.
“You do what you need to do, Jack,” McManus said. “Just come out in one piece. OK, you’re up and running and good to go.”
Jackie tucked one of the available Glocks in her waistband and put on her leather jacket before pulling the rain slicker over her head. She gave Nick a grim smile and walked over to one of the cars. At least it would be a short trip.
The tires of the car crunched on the gravel drive as she drove slowly up the hill. Her hands were getting slick on the steering wheel; she tried to wipe them off on her pants, but they were damp as well from the rain. Her head was bouncing, or at least it felt like it was, as many of the girls recognized the house as she pulled into the circle drive in front. The conversation was a garbled symphony of voices.
Hon? We may need to be a little wary here, Laurel whispered to her, away from the others.
No kidding. I feel like the damn fly in the spider web.
Not that. One of the girls here, the quiet one at the end, is definitely not excited to be seeing Charlotte.
OK. Why should that make me more wary than anything else going on here?
Just that she might try something after we get in there. I’ll help you keep the girls here as much as I can, but the hard part is going to be containing them all.
Girls! Jackie shouted. Please listen up for a second. The babbling continued, only marginally quieter. “Hey!” she shouted out loud. This time it had more effect. They stilled enough to where she could actually distinguish voices. “Charlotte is inside, but so are a couple of men who may not be nice guys. I want you to stay with me until after we get inside. If you have a question, I’ll try to ask Charlotte for you. Do not leave me until I tell you it’s safe. OK? Do we all understand each other?”
There was a murmur of assent, so Jackie opened her car door and stepped back out into the rain. The porch light did little, other than cast a slick, yellow haze over the front steps. In the front window, the curtain pulled back a few inches before falling back seconds later.
“Maddox?” Jackie said. “Anything?”
“You look clear from here, Jack,” he replied. “Someone peeked at you out the window, but I think everyone is in the house.”
“McManus?”
“You’ve got three of us coming up the hill now; should be in place within two minutes.”
“OK, sounds good,” she replied. “I’m moving in then; tired of getting rained on.”
Jackie half expected Charlotte to open the door and step out before she even knocked, but apparently she decided going through the formal hassle was worth the effort. On the second knock, Margolin answered the door.
“Ms. Rutledge,” he said, “I figured you the type to refuse negotiations.”
Jackie stepped up to him and elbowed her way into the entry, satisfied with the painful grunt she received. “Circumstances require a certain bending of the usual rules, Philip. I’m sure you get that much, even if you are stupid enough to be here right now.”
He rubbed at his stomach. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”
“Glad we’re on the same page. So—”
“Jackie Rutledge,” the familiar voice of Charlotte said with demure charm. She stepped through the living room archway and into the entry. “You look surprisingly well given the last time I saw you.”
She tried to smile and keep from wincing at the effort it was taking her and Laurel to keep the girls in check. They clamored over one another to talk to Charlotte. Nobody is going to say anything until you’re all quiet! “I’m alive,” Jackie said, “no thanks to you.”
Charlotte stepped closer. “You should be more polite in my house.” Her head cocked curiously to one side as she studied Jackie. “Your friend is with you. I believe I said to come alone.”
Jackie steadied her breath, avoiding the itch to reach for her gun and trying to keep her eyes away from Charlotte’s. “Do you see anyone else around?”
“Jack,” McManus whispered in her ear, “try to get out of the entry. We need to see more of the house.”
Charlotte’s head cocked to the other side, staring intensely at Jackie. “You’re different today, more ... powerful. How interesting.” She finally broke off and turned to Margolin. “Philip, why don’t you go bring the tea into the living room so Ms. Rutledge and I can have a chat.”
“Sure thing, Ms. Thatcher,” he said and hurried off.
Jackie watched him walk off through the opposite archway that opened into a dining room and then turn toward the back of the house. Then her heart jumped into her throat when a gray, translucent figure stepped out of the wall—another Rebecca, who ignored her stare and blithely drifted by them and into the living room.
“Come,” Charlotte motioned. “The least we can do for the moment is be civil. I am certainly curious about how you can do what you do, Jackie. It’s quite extraordinary, given that you’re, well, alive and all.”
And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. “Honestly, Charlotte, I’d like to discuss the issues at hand.”
She stepped into the living room and was immediately greeted by Carson and a man she did not recognize seated in a pair of antique Victorian chairs by the front window. Each had a rifle laying casually across their laps.
“Where’s your cronies at, Ms. Rutledge?” Carson asked, his mouth twisting into a sneer. The man had tissue stuffed into his nose, and one eye was nearly swollen shut.
Jackie smiled. Someone had clocked him good. “Little trouble with the townsfolk there, Carson?”
“No thanks to you, missy,” he said. “Be glad when you’re gone, bitch.”
“Elton! Language!” Charlotte’s voice barked out so harshly that Jackie had to look and make sure it had actually come from her. “You will behave while in my household.”
Carson looked away from them and replied in a hushed voice. “Yes, ma’am.”
Well, if there was any doubt about who ran this town, that made it abundantly clear right there. Even the girls murmuring in her head cringed and hushed at Charlotte’s voice.
“You do seem to have them all under lock and key, Charlotte,” Jackie said. It was rather impressive, she had to admit. “Though, I guess a hundred years gives you plenty of time to work things out.”
“Yes, it has,” she said with a pleased smile. “Everyone in the Mill puts in their time, isn’t that right, Mayor Compton?” She gave the other man a sardonic grin. “Come, let’s sit by the fire.”
A
dark, quiet voice spoke over the murmur of the girls in her head. Even after we’re dead.
Charlotte stopped and looked back at Jackie. “Excuse me?”
Damnit, girls! You need to be quiet. It’s not safe yet. “Nothing, just muttering to myself.”
Margolin walked in then, carrying a tray with a teapot, three cups and saucers, and a sugar bowl. “Ah, there we go,” Charlotte said. “Thank you, Phillip. Just set it on the table there, please.”
Jackie rounded the sofa facing the fireplace to sit in the chair opposite Charlotte, ignoring the chattering of the girls, who were all excited at the prospect of tea time, and placing her back to Carson and the other man. She stopped abruptly at the sight of Jessica reclined peacefully on the cushions.
She stirred sleepily, blinking at Jackie. “Sis?” she asked, struggling to remove the quilt and sit up.
Charlotte reached over and put her hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Right here, Bec. Our guest has arrived.”
The sleep evaporated as her mouth pressed together into a thin line. “The one who wants to ruin everything?”
Great. What a nice way to situate things. “Hello, Jes ... Rebecca. Despite what you may think, I did not come here to ruin anything.”
Charlotte leaned forward and poured tea into the cups. “And yet, here you are, Jackie, doing your best to ruin everything after I finally got my sis back.” She smiled sweetly over at Jessica and gave her an affectionate squeeze.
“You—” Jackie stopped at the sudden outburst in her head. Tiny starbursts of light danced before her eyes.
“Jack?” McManus’s voice piped into her ear. “Don’t sit with your back to those guys. Not good.”
“Sonofabitch.” Jackie pressed her hands to her temples. Questions and demands from the girls assaulted her from everywhere. Laur! Help!
I’m trying.
She tried to push back against the onslaught, with a surge from Laurel to back her up, but it was quickly becoming too much to handle.
“Ms. Rutledge?” Charlotte asked, curious. “Are you ... you ... what have you done?”
Jackie tried to focus on Charlotte who had risen to her feet. “I haven’t done—”
She had pushed them all back, quelled the growing shock and outrage, except for one, the stern and silent Rebecca who broke free, taking hold of Jackie while she struggled to contain her.
“That is not your sister, Charlotte Louise Thatcher!” The voice spewing forth from Jackie’s mouth was not hers. “You drank your sister’s blood a hundred and ten years ago and sold your soul to Death. How many have you killed to bring me back, Sis? How many?”
Jackie pulled on Rebecca, trying to force her back within the confines of her mind, where the rest now watched in stunned silence. Even with Laurel’s help, she was proving to be recalcitrant.
“Bec?” Charlotte stood up, eyes wide in shock. “How?”
“Jackie!” Nick called out. “Get out of there. You’ve got the real Rebecca with you.”
No shit. Rebecca! You’ve got to stop now before it’s too late. Her efforts along with Laurel’s, were slowly pulling her back, but Jackie had little practice in doing this kind of thing, and it was proving far too difficult.
“All of that blood on your hands! You don’t deserve to have me back.”
Charlotte was in Jackie’s face now. She grabbed a handful of rain slicker and leather jacket in each hand and shook her. “Bec! You’ve been here? This whole time you were here?”
“I’ve lingered here, Sis,” she said, “waiting for when I could say good-bye to you without all of this getting in the way. So, now I’m here. I loved you once, but no more, not after what you’ve done, what you’ve become.”
“Bec!” The violence of Charlotte’s strength snapped Jackie’s head back and forth. “Come out of there. Please.”
Rebecca’s will to force herself over Jackie’s own began to wane. They were pulling her back, but now Charlotte was reaching in, her eyes aglow, attempting to do the same.
“Good-bye, Sis. I hope you find peace.”
With that she withdrew back into the recesses of Jackie’s mind, slipping away from Charlotte’s probing power.
“Bec?” Charlotte grabbed Jackie’s chin in a bruising grip. “Becca! Come back!” Her stare refocused on Jackie’s, who was barely getting her vision back. “Where is she? What did you do with her?”
Jackie felt her feet lifting off the ground. “She’s here with me, along with all the other Rebeccas.”
“Jack,” McManus hissed into her ear, “get out of the living room, if you can.”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Charlotte said, and twisted Jackie’s head sidewise. “Got your boys waiting out there for you, Jack?” She reached up to pluck the earbud from Jackie’s ear, as Jackie reached up to grab hold of Charlotte’s arm. Her arm jerked away and she slapped Jackie a ringing blow across the side of her head. The blow stunned Jackie momentarily, and the next thing she saw was the earbud pinched between Charlotte’s fingers. “You bring my sister back or I swear to God, I will crush your head with my bare hands and dig her out of there myself.” With that she ground the earbud between her fingers and dropped it to the floor.
“Sis?” Jessica asked, standing beside her now. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”
Charlotte turned and pushed her back to the couch. “Sit down and be quiet.”
“Well, well,” Margolin said from the living room archway. “Stuck your hand in the tiger’s cage, didn’t you, Rutledge?”
Jackie took advantage of the distraction to slam her steel-toed boot into Charlotte’s shin with as much effort as her dangling body could manage. Inside her head, the muddled confusion was starting to focus into a hard, cool anger. The girls were beginning to realize just what had been going on for the past century in Thatcher’s Mill.
Charlotte cried out and dropped Jackie to the floor. “Ow! You bitch!” Her tiny fist flashed out with prizefighter speed but missed its mark because Jackie was stumbling backward after dropping awkwardly to the floor. Charlotte’s fist struck her, instead, high up on the shoulder, sending Jackie spinning sideways over the end table next to the chair.
She fell to the floor, her shoulder throbbing. So much for in and out in ten minutes. Her leverage had abruptly turned into a significant disadvantage. She got the bad feeling Charlotte might even try to make good on her threat.
“Elton! Stanley!” Charlotte called out. “Get out there and deal with whomever is waiting outside. Philip, get to the church. Go!”
Damn it all to hell. Jackie turned and reached for the Glock. She would dive out the damn living room window if she had to. The team would be making a move at any moment, given what they had heard, and she did not want to be standing around in here when the bullets started flying.
The team, however, was apparently ready to make their move sooner than even Jackie had anticipated. Suddenly the living room window erupted in a shower of glass shards, and Jackie heard the familiar hiss of the tear gas canister as it tumbled across the floor.
She rolled away from the spewing smoke. Jessica began to scream. Elton and Stanley both swore and brought their weapons to bear on the front window. Charlotte kicked the end table so hard to get it out of her way that her foot went through it, splintering it in two. Jackie had maybe two seconds to bring her weapon around to face Charlotte before she would be on her.
The look on Charlotte’s face spoke volumes. End game or not, her intentions looked damn clear to Jackie. She was going to kill her.
Cross over, hon! Cross over! Laurel’s voice yelled at her.
But the girls were in the way, interfering with her ability to do much of anything in that regard. She could not get the door open that quickly. Jackie raised the Glock to fire as Charlotte bore down on her, and watched in disbelief as it flew from her hand in a shower of blood. Her blood.
In the archway, Margolin stood with a shotgun in hand. “Not this time, Rutledge,” he said.
Jackie’s
arm flopped across her stomach, chunks of flesh now missing from her forearm. She was too stunned to even cry out or curse. Charlotte loomed over her, a wicked grin on her face. Behind her, Elton and Stanley began to open fire on the team outside. Shit, Laur. Fucked that up.
“Come, Sis. Hurry and drink. This blood may be special, and you’ll need the extra boost.” Charlotte smiled down at Jackie with a humorless flash of teeth.
Nick and Shel are on their way. I can feel them coming.
Laurel’s words offered no encouragement. Jackie realized in that split second before Charlotte’s pretty black shoe connected with the side of her head that they would probably be too late.
Chapter 27
Nick’s stomach wrenched in knots when the words came out of Jackie’s mouth. For a second, he thought someone unseen had entered the room with Jackie, but the voice had been far too clear and close to be anyone but her. Only the voice had not been hers at all. What she said sent a chill through him. Shelby realized it at the same time he did.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “It’s the real Rebecca.”
“What the hell?” McManus asked. “Who is that?”
“It’s the ghost of the real Rebecca Thatcher, and she’s not happy with her sister.” Nick grabbed the mic from McManus. “Jackie! Get out of there. You’ve got the real Rebecca with you.”
When Charlotte leaped up into the camera, blocking their view of everything, all three of them startled. When the camera view began to shake, Shelby stepped out of the SUV. “OK, enough bullshit. We’ve got to get her out of there now.”
“Just let her go, Jackie,” Nick said quietly. “It’s not worth it.”
McManus queued into the team. “Pernetti, we’ve got shit going down—get ready to launch that gas.”
They flinched at the sound of Jackie getting slapped. Nick hopped out to the pavement. “We’re heading up.”
As he ran out into the street, Nick heard McManus telling Jackie to get out of the living room. Shelby was already fifty yards ahead of him, nearly at the end of the street starting up the drive to the Thatchers’. Then McManus’s voice ordered the gas launched. Nick heard the distinctive shatter of glass. That should have been the tear gas going in. Any luck and it would disable everyone except Charlotte herself.
