Read The Lingering Dead Online
Authors: J. N. Duncan
The Lingering Dead (11 page)
Chapter 10
The smell of steaks on the grill wafted in through the screen door and Jackie's stomach grumbled. The cold beer was doing little to alleviate her hunger. She sat at the dining room table, staring out through the glass windows at Nick, who stood shrouded in the glow of the porch light and swirling smoke. At times he would turn and gaze in at them through the glass; if the angle was right, she would catch a glimpse of those glowing eyes, faint but discernible if you knew what you were looking for.
He had not said a word all day about anything that had happened, not even a hint of how he was feeling about it all. He had not shied away from her or avoided her gaze. Either he was doing an admirable job of giving her space or he had no feelings about what had happened. But how could that be? She had completely flipped out on him, embarrassed them both, and undoubtedly left him disappointed he'd ever involved himself with her. He was doing a fantastic job of moving on with things and just letting it be. Damn him.
“Yo, babe,” Shelby said, snapping her fingers in front of Jackie. “Earth to Jackie. You with us?”
Jackie turned back to the others gathered at the table with her and what little information they had spread out before them. “Sorry. We ready?”
McManus, sitting across from her and next to Cynthia, set his cell down on the table. “You're on speaker, Hauser. What have you got?”
“Hey everyone. I'm just digging back into this stuff again,” he said. “Sorry I couldn't do more earlier, but I can't make this high on my priority list at this point.”
“That's OK, Hauser,” Jackie replied. “We don't even have a real case at this point.”
“I'll put some extra time on it here after hours because I love you so much.”
Shelby made a dismissive sound and Hauser laughed. “We love you, too, Ms. Fontaine, but I think you scare most of us down here in the lab. No offense.”
She huffed. “What have I done to scare you boys?”
“Oh, pretty much everything, I'd guess.”
Everyone laughed at that. Jackie shook her head.
“So, nothing new since this morning?” Jackie asked.
“Nothing criminal,” Hauser replied. “It is a strange little town, though.”
“Tell me something I don't know,” Jackie said.
“Most of the families there have been living in Thatcher's for generations. Very few people have moved in or out from what I can tell. In fact, the population hasn't varied by more than a few people for decades.”
Jackie had no idea if that fact meant anything. “That doesn't happen much, I take it?
“It's statistically possible,” Hauser said, “but highly improbable. It smacks of population control if you ask me.”
Control. The wormy smile of Chief Carson flashed in her mind. “Can you look into the police department there? Their police chief gave me a bad vibe.” Not to mention the ghost that stared at her the entire time.
“Sure. Anything else you guys want me to dig into, besides my general poking around?”
“Death certificates,” Shelby added.
“Of the townsfolk?” Hauser asked.
“Yes. We want to know who has died there over the past century,” she said.
Hauser chuckled. “Hundred years? Not sure I can track it down that far back, but will see what I can do. Am I looking for something particular?”
“Age of death,” Shelby replied, as Jackie was about to add the same suggestion. “A list of how old everyone was who died there.”
“How is that going to help you?” Hauser asked.
“A bunch of ghosts, Hauser,” Jackie replied. “They all look roughly the same age, and we're betting death records aren't going to match up.”
“Wow, sounds cool. You guys get all the fun stuff.”
Nick came in carrying a platter of steaming, grilled rib eyes and foil-wrapped potatoes.
“Hardly,” Jackie said. “We've got steaks to eat here, Hauser. We'll talk later.”
A few minutes later, they were all gathered around the table, digging into succulent meat and butter and sour cream-drenched potatoes.
McManus waved his fork at Jackie, chewing away on a mouthful of food. When he finally swallowed, he said, “How is it you haven't married this guy yet, Jack? People have killed for food this good. Seriously, Nick, this may be the best steak I've ever had.”
He smiled. “All in the seasoning. It's a secret recipe I got from my cook days.”
“Covert mission, Jack. Do it.”
Jackie gave McManus a halfhearted smile and kept eating her food. Married. Now there was a joke. How about making it through until the next morning? That would be a worthy goal. Pathetic perhaps, but a success nonetheless. There was some more friendly banter, but everyone was focused mostly on the food until the plates were clean. Nick then made them coffee, and tea for Cynthia, while McManus and Shelby continued on their beers.
“Did we get anything new from the FBI?” Nick wondered after everyone was settled back at the table again.
Jackie shrugged. “Only that the population of the town hasn't changed in decades. Hauser's looking into the police chief and gathering up stats on death certificates.”
“Well then, what is next on our agenda?” Nick asked. “I assume we're all in agreement that this is worth pursuing further?”
“Should have Laur here,” Jackie said. “She's over waiting to see if that thing comes back.”
“What thing?” McManus said.
“Long story, McManus.” Jackie waved him off, hoping he would let it slide. “Nothing you can do about it right now anyway.”
“Hope it stays that way,” Cynthia added.
Jackie quickly continued. “Anyway, what do we do now? We don't have a whole lot to go on other than some suspicions and a bunch of ghosts where there shouldn't be any. Other than trying to find someone who will talk, I'm open to suggestions.”
McManus's cell rang again and he immediately put it on speaker. “That was quick, Hauser.”
“Hey, we aim to please down here,” he said. “Still digging, but I ran the certificates for you, since that was a quick and easy thing. What specifically do you want to know?”
Jackie thought for a second. “Young women. How many women, fifteen to twenty-four, have died there in the past hundred years?”
“Sure. Iowa goes back to 1880's on these. One sec,” he said, and there was silence for a few moments. They all stared at the phone in anticipation. “OK, looks like twenty-six, but only three of those are after 1950.”
“That's it? You sure, Hauser?” Jackie asked.
“Stats don't lie, Jack. It may not account for every last one of them, but assuming the records were filed, it should be pretty accurate.”
“Thanks. That was potentially helpful,” she said.
And not in the way that I'd hoped. This is going nowhere good.
And not in the way that I'd hoped. This is going nowhere good.
After Hauser clicked off, everyone was silent for a moment.
“The numbers don't add up?” McManus said.
“We counted thirty-six ghosts in Thatcher's Mill,” Jackie replied, “thirty-one of which were female, and most of them young women. That was just all we could find in a couple of hours walking around.”
“This is not good, I take it?”
“No,” Nick answered. “It's not. Young women have died there that are likely unaccounted for through the records.”
McManus sat back, hands folded behind his head. “You telling me that someone has been bringing women to Thatcher's Mill and killing them?”
“Given the little we know so far, it's a good possibility,” Nick said. “But it could've been fifty years ago for all we can tell. We were unable to get any information from the ghosts there.”
“They wouldn't talk?”
“They were all very reluctant to say anything at all.”
“I think some of them were flat-out afraid to talk,” Shelby added. “It was very weird.”
“But it was a place attacked by Drake a century ago,” Nick added. “That fact may or may not be involved here.”
“Really?” McManus nodded. “Sounds like a lot of loose ends and theories that need to be verified.”
“We're going back,” Jackie said. “Tomorrow.” They had no choice. It could all turn out to be nothing, but her gut told her that was not the case. Some or all of those ghosts walking around in Thatcher's Mill had been killed by someone, and her suspicions told her that it was still going on.
“Executive decision!” Shelby stated. “I'm really curious now what the hell is going on there.”
Cynthia took a quiet sip of her tea. “Could all of those women been killed by someone?”
“The second you find something, you call me, Jack,” McManus said. “You don't have any authority to do anything.”
“No need to remind me of that,” Jackie said. “I'm well aware of my current situation.”
An awkward silence followed, finally broken up by Shelby. “Who's up for a little pool? No need to get all serious until tomorrow.”
“You any good?” McManus wondered.
“Enough to kick your ass, Agent McManus,” she said, grinning.
“Sweet. How about you, Jack? Up for a little FBI versus the civilians?”
She shook her head. “No, go ahead. I'm not in the mood.”
“Oh, come on, babe. Have a littleâ”
“Not in the mood!” Jackie snapped back.
“Fine.” She raised a placating hand up between them. “Go be all broody.” She turned back to McManus. “Care to put a little money where your mouth is, McManus?”
He stood up. “I think I have a few lonely bills in my wallet looking for some company.”
Cynthia joined them, and Nick moved toward the kitchen. “Think I'll get things cleaned up here first.”
Left alone, Jackie grabbed her coffee and went out on the expansive back deck. The rain had stopped and moon-crusted clouds drifted by, obscuring and then revealing the night sky. Hopping a ride on one of those clouds and drifting away for a while sounded like the best thing in the world at the moment. Everything felt so unsettled. Her nerves danced on pins and needles. Nothing was as it should be or had been. She needed to get a rhythm back in her life, somehow, because all of her old routines had been stomped into the ground. The wheels were spinning, and nothing in her life right now gave her any traction.
Her cell picked that moment of quiet to ring in her pocket, buzzing against her thigh and Jackie nearly knocked her coffee cup off the deck railing. Her eyes rolled to the heavens when she saw caller ID. Tillie.
“Dr. Erikson,” she said, trying in vain not to sound too exasperated. “How are you?”
“I called to ask you the same thing, dear. I left on such an awkward note last night.”
“Story of my life right now. I'm fine ...” Jackie took a deep breath. “OK, not so fine, really. I'm stressed out, but it's manageable.”
“Have you talked with Nick about what happened?”
She turned and leaned against the rail to see Nick walking toward the sliding glass door, coffee in hand. Shit. “Not yet. I don't think I'm ready to go there.”
“I believe it's important that you do, Jackie,” Tillie said, her voice softening. “Don't let him push you, though. Anything, whatever it is, should be at your discretion, when you're ready.”
Push me. I don't think he'll push this at all if I've learned anything about the man.
“Not sure I'll ever be ready for that.”
“Not sure I'll ever be ready for that.”
“Dear, you will. Trust me. Trust yourself.”
The door opened and Nick stepped out. “Thanks for the call, Tillie. I need to go.” She hung up without waiting for a reply.
Nick stopped a few feet away. “Long first day, Agent Rutledge. It was an interesting one, to say the least.”
“No kidding,” she said. “Thanks for cooking by the way. It was really good, as always.”
He shrugged, a faint smile on his shadowed face, set off by the dim gray glow in the depths of his eyes. “Have to keep the crew well fed.”
“You know, Nick, leading this group is kind of redundant. I'm the least skilled when it comes to this supernatural crap.”
Nick stepped up and leaned against the rail beside her. “Those aren't the skills required for the job, and those skills will grow with experience. You may think this ridiculous, but I have a feeling you will find that you have more ability with regard to the supernatural than all of us put together.”
Her coffee went down wrong when she tried to laugh that off and Jackie ended up coughing. “Yeah, right. I don't have a clue, Nick, about anything at the moment.”
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