The Corpse Whisperer

by H. R. Boldwood

  I moved out from behind Ottis and resumed my seat across from Cap. “Think about it, sir. Even if McSquirrel here isn’t Snowflake, he could still be feeding intel to a handler.”

  Ottis blinked. “Feeding…what?” Sweat poured from his temples. “I-I’m not feeding a-anything. Am I in t-trouble?” His eyes grew moist. “Can I g-go back to work n-now? I don’t like this.”

  Cap frowned and shook his head. “This is thin, even for you, Nighthawk.”

  I had to admit, one look at the sniveling squirrel told me my theory sucked rocks. He didn’t have the guts, or the brains, to be a stool pigeon. Ottis couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag without a map.

  I’d scared the crap out of a simple guy, doing his simple job. And now, I felt like a shitheel. And Little Allie, who should have stopped me in the first place, decided to get all high and mighty, making me feel worse. The brain bitch needed to either stay tuned in or butt out. Her ADD was killing me.

  “Sorry about the head slap, Ottis,” I mumbled. “My mistake.”

  Cap walked around his desk and lifted Ottis out of his chair. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Go on back to work, now. Just one more thing before you go. Don’t forget. When you see my door closed, always knock from now on before you come in. Okay?”

  Ottis threw me a withering glance. “No problem.”

  He slunk out the office, side-eying me every inch of the way.

  Cap closed the door behind him, then turned back to me and asked, “Have you lost your mind?”

  I explained that Ottis was conveniently present at all the strategic moments of the case, but my words fell on deaf ears.

  Cap shooed Rico and me out of his office, with instructions to pick up Leo and take him back to my place.

  Rico pulled me out of Cap’s door, even as I continued to plead. “Somebody answered that phone, damn it. And when I figure out who, I’ll have our snitch.”

  Cap yelled from his office, “Be sure to log that phone into evidence.”

  “Will do,” I called, then I grinned at Rico and whispered, “Right after we use it to find our snitch.”

  “Jesus,” he sighed, leading me out of the precinct doors. “You’ll get me fired, yet.”

  I dropped my Harley off at the house and then Rico drove us to the hospital to pick up Leo.

  Weston grinned like a fool, the minute we walked down the hallway.

  Rico stopped outside Leo’s door, to let Weston know he’d been allocated to the unit responsible for identifying the warehouse biters and BOLO Guy.

  I walked on past them and into the room, but I couldn’t help overhearing Weston’s sigh of relief, and something about Leo being a royal pain in the ass.

  Leo couldn’t wait to share his feelings, either. “What’s with that Weston guy? He’s like a mannequin, only stupider, and with no sense of humor.”

  After we gathered Leo’s things, a nurse rolled him to the front door in a wheelchair, while he yammered on, a mile a minute, thrilled to be “busting out of this joint.”

  Weston parted ways with us at the curb and strolled across the parking lot, a lightness in his step, presumably due to being “Leo-free.”

  The ride home featured Leo unplugged. I was surprised at how much I’d missed that.

  We reached my house, and hadn’t even made it out of Rico’s car, when Nonnie flew through the screen door, arms open wide, homing in on Leo like a B-52. I was afraid she’d knock him over, but he latched onto her and gave her a big smooch on the lips.

  “I have lasagna for you,” Nonnie said, beaming. “And some rugelach for dessert. The guest bed is made up for you, too. Come, come,” she said, hustling him into the house.

  The guest bed? I didn’t have a guest bed.

  And while I’d worried about Headbutt’s reaction to Leo, given that he had the Z-virus, Headbutt escorted him up the driveway, wagging his tail stub, treating him like his new best friend. Even Kulu was on her best behavior, greeting Leo at the door with, “Buongiorno, Leo.”

  Leo wandered in and gawked at the pictures of my family, hanging willy-nilly on the walls.

  “Nighthawk,” he said, his head on a swivel. “Your mother…and father? I’ll be damned.”

  Good Lord. Had the man thought I’d been hatched?

  We sat at the kitchen table and ate lasagna until it came out of our ears, smiling and laughing, Leo’s arrival feeling like a homecoming of sorts. Leo’s color was good, even if the usual glint hadn’t returned to his eyes. Once his belly was full, he yawned, clearly ready for a nap. Nonnie led him down the hallway, to the bedroom across from mine. Until now, I’d always referred to that room as The Arsenal. And the door to the arsenal had been locked.

  The last time I’d been in my house, only a day or so earlier, there was no bed in that room. I threw a side-long glance at Nonnie, which she completely ignored, then I moved to the doorway, almost afraid to look inside.

  I peeked through my fingers and stifled a gasp. Good God. What had she done with my napalm?

  The room now hosted a double-bed, complete with sheets, pillows and comforter, as well as a night table and matching dresser. This was not my stuff, but one look at Nonnie’s face told me who it belonged to. She was happy and feeling needed; Leo was relaxed and comfortable.

  On the far side of the room, a padlocked metal cabinet took up most of one wall. Nonnie stepped beside me and forked over the key. I unlocked it and peeked inside. She had managed to move all my weapons and munitions into the cabinet, without blowing my house to bits. A woman of many surprises, our Nonnie.

  While Leo slept, Nonnie cleaned our lunch mess and started making veal scallopini for dinner. If I continued to eat like this, I wouldn’t be able to outrun an eighty-year-old corpsicle. Headbutt, who followed Nonnie around like she had a pork chop tied to her neck, had already put on a few pounds.

  Rico and I excused ourselves and walked outside to analyze the security of my house. Or lack thereof.

  “Other than locks on the doors and windows, I got nothing,” I said. “There isn’t a soul in this neighborhood who would even think about screwing with me. And when it comes to random riff-raff, Headbutt doesn’t take any prisoners.”

  But it was different this time. It wasn’t just my life at stake. We weren’t talking about screwball kids with attitudes anymore. Gangsters and biters boosted the security needs up a notch. Motion sensor lights seemed reasonable, as did an alarm system. Sweet. I’d be sending that bill to the D.A.’s office.

  We’d gone back inside and were reviewing home security systems on my laptop, when someone rang the doorbell. Headbutt growled and jumped up and down in front of the door, his usual greeting. I looked through the peephole and sighed. Even on the best of days, trouble eventually found me. Today’s trouble took the shape of Jade Chen.

  I opened the door and summoned every ounce of control I had left inside. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jade smiled sweetly and handed me the newspaper from my driveway. “I come in peace. No microphones, no cameraman. Just me. May I come in?”

  I stepped aside and let her pass. “I’ll let Rico know you’re here.”

  “Actually, it’s you I want to talk to,” she said, sitting on the couch.

  Rico walked into the room and she smiled.

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s up, Jade?”

  “I know it’s early, and you’re supposed to pick me up at seven, but I really stopped by to see Allie.”

  Rico’s eyes darted back and forth between Jade and me, making what was already an awkward moment downright uncomfortable.

  As if that weren’t bad enough, Leo, apparently awakened by the doorbell, appeared in the hallway, pointed his finger at Jade, and said, “I know you! You’re the news broad who gives Nighthawk shit all the time. Cadaver diver! Ha! Good one. You’re sharp. And you’ve got some big-ass, hangy-down things. Two thumbs up, chica.”

  I scowled at Leo. “Go back to your room, Uncle David. This is a private conversation.�
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  “No. Wait,” Jade said. “Allie, I know who he is. He’s a mob accountant named Leo Abruzzi, who’s turning state’s evidence against the Giordano Family.”

  Nonnie rounded the kitchen doorway and burned holes through Jade with her eyes.

  I snapped my head toward Rico, seconds from making him wish he’d never been born, when Jade jumped up and stood between us. “I know what you think. But Rico didn’t tell me anything. I swear.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Nighthawk,” Jade said. “Don’t be so naive. Grand juries aren’t the secrets you think they are, when you have the right sources. There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about tonight. Something only you can help me with. The wires are full of stories about an increase in zombie activity and biters that seem to be evolving. I want to know more about that.”

  She took a deep breath. “No, actually, I need to know more about that. One thing’s for sure. If Leo’s here, and you’re here, those two things have to be related. And that’s news.” She paused and lifted her chin. “It’s dark. It’s gritty. And I want in on the ground floor. I want to write an exposé on the Z-virus.”

  Oh no, she did not just say that.

  I laughed, in spite of myself. “And because we’re such close, personal friends, you thought I’d buy into this ridiculous load of crap.”

  “Oh, hell no. That ship’s sailed. But I’ll run my copy by you before I air it, to be sure I’m not giving away any secrets. Agreed?”

  “No way, Jade.” I yanked the front door back open. “You’d be in so far over your head, you’d never come up for air again. It’s time you leave now. And if one word of this gets out, I’m coming for you. Personally. You can count on it. A man’s life is at stake.”

  Jade looked down and bit her lip. “I know in the past I’ve been…harsh. But to be fair, so have you. I’ve thought…what you do…is cruel. I didn’t understand it. I’m not sure I do now, but I want to. And I want the public to understand it, too. No more jibes, no more insults. I promise. And not a word will go to print, until you say the word. Deal?”

  I held the door open and glared at her.

  “No,” I said. “No deal. And I meant what I said. If one word of this gets out, there isn’t a corner of the world where you can hide, where I won’t find you.”

  Jade nodded and walked slowly to the door, then turned to me and said, “I’m going to do this with or without your help, Nighthawk. With, would make it a whole lot easier.”

  I pushed the door closed behind her and stared accusingly at Rico.

  He didn’t look away. “You know me better than that,” was all he said.

  Leo wandered into the kitchen with Nonnie, probably trying to stay out of my path. The next hour passed in awkward silence, as Rico cleaned his gun and I scanned the internet for security systems.

  The doorbell rang again at six o’clock. Thank God, Ferris was here for the start of his shift.

  Without so much as a glance at me, Rico let him in, squeezed past him, and slammed the door on his way out.

  “Whew,” Ferris said. “Trouble in paradise?”

  27

  Did Someone Say Dark and Gritty?

  The smell of Nonnie’s scallopini quickly derailed Ferris’s curiosity about the spat between me and Rico. Either that, or he decided I’d fill him in on whatever he needed to know. Smart cookie, that Ferris.

  “Something smells good,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re domestic, Nighthawk. That would completely shatter my image of you.”

  “Not a chance. Nonnie’s the chef,” I said, pointing to my chief cook and bottle washer, as she rounded the kitchen corner.

  “Ah! You like? You must be Ferris. I, Nonnie Nussbaum,” she said, grabbing both his hands. “Miss Allie’s assistant. I cook the scallopini. Dinner almost ready.”

  Assistant? Suddenly, she had a title.

  Ferris took a deep sniff and sighed. “Smells amazing, Mrs. Nussbaum. Can’t wait.”

  Nonnie, head held high, strutted back into the kitchen and shooed Leo out from under her feet, into the living room with Ferris and me.

  Still smarting from my spat with Rico, I let the two of them chatter on about finance, while I sulked in the corner.

  “You’re a young guy,” I heard Leo say. “Don’t be afraid of global funds. They’ll pay off over time.”

  My mind began to drift. And damned if the brain bitch didn’t hijack the opportunity to harangue me.

  Rico’s a damn good partner. He’d never put Leo at risk. What were you thinking?

  Although no one would have ever guessed it, I was capable of being a bit…rash…sometimes. Was it possible that Jade was a better reporter than I gave her credit for? Could she have gotten plum lucky and stumbled into this mess, all on her lonesome?

  In the end, it didn’t matter. I knew inside that Rico hadn’t breached confidentiality, just like I knew it would be my responsibility to keep Jade’s surgically-altered, upturned nose out of harm’s way. Refusing to help her with the exposé had been the right move.

  I relaxed a bit during dinner as the mood lightened. And when Leo asked Ferris about his background, his answer intrigued me.

  “Mostly military,” he said. “I did a couple of tours in Afghanistan, explosive ordnance detail. Got recruited by the FBI, not long after I came home. That’s been five years, now.”

  I pictured Ferris’s sandy hair, caked with mud, steely blue eyes peering out from above several day’s growth, his six-foot-four frame decked out in combat fatigues, massive football player hands, strong but dexterous. What would they feel like on my...

  “Isn’t that right, Nighthawk?” Leo asked.

  “Sorry. What?”

  Leo shoved the last forkful of veal into his mouth. “I was telling Ferris here, you and De Palma, you’re like oil and vinegar. Polar opposites. It’s a wonder one of you ain’t dead yet.”

  “We’ve kept you alive so far, haven’t we?” I said, carrying my plate to the sink.

  Ferris pushed his chair back and followed me. “I’ll do the dishes, Mrs. Nussbaum, and Miss Allie here will help me. Sit down and relax.”

  The guy was bucking for sainthood. Nonnie and Leo kibitzed in the living room, while Ferris washed and I, shamed into action, dried.

  Ferris’s blue eyes twinkled as he sidled up alongside me. “I’m not much for doing dishes, but I was running out of ways to get you alone, Miss Allie.”

  Something that resembled a giggle bubbled inside me. I squelched it before it escaped. He might have been tall, blonde and ripped, but that didn’t give him the right to mess with me.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” I asked.

  “The National Law Enforcement Training Center. Hand-to-hand combat training. Two, no, three years ago.”

  “Impressive.”

  “I thought you were. But I would have laid bank you didn’t notice me. You were all business.”

  “Oh, I noticed you.”

  “Yeah? Is that good or bad?”

  I turned away, red-faced, trying to hide a smile. “Just wash the dishes.”

  He scrubbed a plate, dunked it into the rinse water, and then held me captive with his baby blues. “Seriously, Allie. You were amazing. You didn’t have military training, you weren’t a Fed, or even an officer. You were a freakin’ zombie hunter, with some hella impressive skills. The way you wiped the floor with the instructor, when he thought he had you dead to rights. How hot was that? I will never forget the look on his face. Five years with the FBI and pulling this detail…I gotta say, it’s the first time I’ve actually looked forward to babysitting a witness.”

  Even Little Allie was speechless.

  I grabbed for the plate he’d been washing. Our fingers touched. He didn’t pull away, and neither did I.

  “Okay, Ferris, I’m calling rank on the plate.”

  “Call me, Sean,” he said, smiling as he released the plate.

 
; “Other officers call you Ferris,” I said, drying.

  “They aren’t as pretty as you.”

  I laughed. “They damn sure aren’t as pretty as you, either.” Him and his impossibly blue eyes. “You can call me Allie. Sometimes. If you use it judiciously. And not in public.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned. “I like the name Allie. It suits you. It’s tough, like you, but it’s also…fun.”

  Was he liking me, as much as I was liking him, right now? Or was this all in my imagination? Was he just a nice guy, who was trying to find common ground with the person he was assigned to spend a shitload of time with? Or was he feeling the same sparks I was?

  I could feel him leaning toward me, just slightly. It made me wonder if he was about to tell me one whopper of a secret, or if the potential for more…maybe even something like a kiss…was lurking just around the corner…

  Headbutt snapped to attention, peaked his ears, and uttered a low growl, ruining the moment.

  Seconds later, the doorbell rang. Director Dickhead stood on the other side of the peephole. So much for sparks.

  I opened the door, and he barged past me into the house. Headbutt, apparently unhappy with the Director’s alpha behavior, barked, promptly hiked his leg, and doused the Director’s shoe.

  Ferris, sporting one hell of a poker face, pretended not to notice and moved beside me.

  “Jesus,” Dickhead said, shaking his foot. “Teach that dog some manners.”

  “Sorry, Director.” I took Headbutt by his collar. “Come on in. We’re just finishing up dinner.”

  Nonnie offered the Director some scallopini, but he declined.

  He crossed the room and introduced himself to Leo. The only other time they’d seen each other, Leo was being carried out of the warehouse on a gurney, semi-comatose.

  “You folks carry on with your evening,” Dickhead said, nodding at Nonnie and me. “I’d like to talk to Agent Ferris for a bit. He’ll be right back.”

  When the Director ushered Ferris out the door, Nonnie moved to start a new pot of coffee. For the first time that day, Leo and I had a few minutes alone together.