The Vengeful Dead (29 page)

“Say yes, Jack. Six months you can come back and punch me in the face again.” He smiled at her and the Irish clearly came through. “I’ve got some things for this case to do. I’ll see you later. Take care, Mr. Anderson.”

“You too, Agent McManus.” Nick walked over and sat down in the chair John had been in next to the bed. “So, Agent Rutledge.”

“How long have you known about this?”

“Since last night. John called me and asked if I might be interested in helping out.”

“You realize how expensive funding something like this is?”

“I’ll cover it, Jackie. Money isn’t the issue,” he said, and his eyes were locked in on hers. “I’ll go to bat for John in this if you’re on the team. I think it’s a great idea. I think it could help a lot of people and save some lives. I also don’t want to do it unless you’re there, too.”

“You do realize what a rookie I am in all this?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We take cases we think we’ll be able to handle. We work on refining and understanding your abilities. We experiment. It’s a short-term operation for now. Six months. If it’s not working the way we want, if we’re all nipping at each other’s heels, then we call it and you can come back to doing homicides. My biggest question is,” he said and paused, laying a broad hand over the top of hers, “are you OK being around and working with me on a regular basis?”

Not a question she had come close to thinking about. Laurel fidgeted with anticipation inside her head. Hard to hide your thoughts from someone who was right there to listen to them.
This is exactly what you’re hoping for, isn’t it? Who are you more afraid of here, hon?
Laurel asked.
Him or yourself ?

I’m not afraid of Nick, not anymore. A little intimidated maybe.

Laurel huffed at her.
Look at him. The guy wants you. He likes you, a lot if I were to bet, and he respects you. When is the last time that happened?

That’s what is freaking me out. I don’t think it’s ever happened before.

Jackie could feel her frowning.
It’s happened at least once before.

I know, but . . .
She had been about to say Laurel did not count, but that would not be fair.
Fine, OK? I get it. I just . . . it scares the shit out of me.

And when did scary shit ever stop you before? Where’s the woman I love who just says “Fuck it,” and jumps right in with both feet?

Jackie knew she could keep coming up with rationalizations, excuses, or reasons to justify her fears, but in the end it came down to whether she was going to be a chicken shit or not. For the past month she had been running away from everything. Fear and guilt had been pushing her in all of the wrong directions. It was time to jump in with both feet again.

She held Nick’s gaze, staring into those bright Deadworld eyes. “I’d be OK with that.”

Nick smiled, clearly pleased. “Good. It’s settled then.”

Chapter 39

Much like her apparently altered body and spirit, Jackie felt frazzled, pulled apart, and definitely separated. She was no longer an FBI agent. At least, it felt that way after handing over her gun and badge to Belgerman. There had been no fanfare upon her departure. No office going-away party or drunken revelry at the bar rehashing stories and cases. Everyone figured she would be back in six months. Jackie Rutledge leave the FBI? Yeah, right. But packing up her things from her desk had given her a certain note of finality. After six months, would she want to come back? Life had turned in a new direction and maybe the FBI was no longer the destiny she had thought for so many years.

Everyone had been polite, and even McManus, who after a couple of days was still sporting a nice shiner Rosa had given him, kept his trap shut. No good-byes. Enjoy the vacation. Everyone was appropriately jealous. Even John treated it like she was just off to do a “side project.” With her small box of belongings, Jackie had gone down to talk to Tillie. At the least, she wanted say good-bye and thank her for being supportive in the face of her animosity. Except now she sat in the soft, chenille-covered chair, sipping on Tillie’s tea and struggled to keep the tears at bay.

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” She had set her tea down and folded her hands in her lap, giving over to that sympathetic, motherly expression that broke her resolve with Jedi-like effectiveness.

She shrugged. “Can’t help but feel this is the end of things. I know it’s not necessarily true, but I wonder if I will even want to come back in six months.”

“Try not to think of it as an end, but as a beginning,” she said. “Your life is moving in a different and hopefully positive direction.”

“Hopefully. I hate that the truth hasn’t been told. I wish I could say what really happened and have people believe. I don’t like being in this position.”

“The alternatives would be far worse, I believe.”

“I guess.” Jackie sighed and finished off her tea. “You’ll be happy to know I have a date tonight. You can check that box off in my little file.”

“You do?” She grinned. “That’s fabulous! Is it with Mr. Anderson?”

Jackie nodded. “Some fancy dinner thing, fancy people in fancy clothes, raising money for something.”

“You seem less than enthused,” she said.

“That’s not my scene.” She waved absently toward her head and the garish scar on the side. “I mean, look at me. I’m going to have to wear a damn hat or something. I have nothing to wear. I’m going to look like the ugly stepchild.”

“So buy yourself a new outfit, dear. Heaven knows you deserve it.”

“Shelby is getting me something, insists I’ll look fine. I have to go over later and try it on.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Whatever.” It did not sound like fun. It sounded like a royal pain in the ass. Nothing she could wear would make her look like date material for an event like this.

“It’s a positive step, Jackie.”

She shrugged again. Nothing about any of this felt positive. She was jumping into the deep end and had no idea how to swim in these waters.

“Well, speaking of positive steps,” Tillie said. “Are you still willing to come see me? Even though you’re no longer officially here, you are still welcome to come and talk with me about things.”

“We had a deal,” Jackie said. “I’m not going to bail on that.”

Tillie shook her head. “Regardless of the deal. Do you want to?”

Did she want to come spill her guts to this woman on a regular basis? No, but Jackie knew that she needed to. Tillie understood her and knew what was going on, for the most part. More importantly, Jackie had come to see that she was more than just another client that Tillie had obligations toward due to her job. Tillie cared about what happened to her and that was not something she could turn away from.

“I do,” she said quietly. “You are . . . helpful.”

Tillie laughed. “Thank you for the boost of confidence. Do I get to find out what happens on your date?”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Given my track record? I’m sure something will happen that will be worth therapy.”

After agreeing to return within a couple of weeks, Jackie got in her rental car and left, watching headquarters shrink in her rearview mirror until the surrounding buildings swallowed it up. She drove around aimlessly for an hour, killing time, not sure what to do with herself. She hated feeling at loose ends. The new job had yet to be worked out. Everyone would be meeting in a couple of days to start sorting through things. She had no idea what she would be doing or how this new unit would work. Six months seemed like such a short amount of time to begin such an endeavor, if
endeavor
was even the right word. Insanity was more appropriate. Finally, Jackie got tired of waiting and called Shelby. Maybe she would be ready early. Even trying on new clothes was better than this stomach-gnawing aimlessness.

Jackie discovered she was ill-prepared for Shelby in makeover mode. Five minutes past, “Hey! You’re looking much better,” Jackie found herself stripped down to bra and panties trying on four different outfits and various combinations thereof.

An hour later, that decision was finally made. Shelby was all smiles. “When he sees you, he’ll be drooling into his boots.”

“We’re going to some fundraising dinner,” Jackie snapped back. “I think drool will be low on the list.”

Laurel, who had stepped out of her head and now drifted around the apartment, approved too. “Hon, you look beautiful.”

Shelby stepped by her and walked into the bathroom. “If I know our Nick, he’s got more in mind than some stuffy fundraiser.”

The squirming worms of nerves in her stomach seized up into a giant knot. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like what?” She wriggled into the skirt while Shelby pulled things from her bathroom drawers.

“No clue,” she replied with a laugh. “He’s a romantic though, a very sneaky one at that.”

Now she was worried. Sneaky? How in the hell could that be a good thing? “Do I want to know your definition of a sneaky romantic?”

Shelby pulled open the door and gave her a once over. Her full, cherry-red lips spread into a grin. “Put that six or seven pounds back on you’ve lost the past few days and you will be so ‘fuck me’ gorgeous in that. Good enough to eat, don’t you think, baby?”

Jackie turned to Laurel in an exasperated panic, who gave her a pained smile. “You’ll be lovely, hon. Quit worrying.”

“God, Jackie. Get that ‘doe in the headlights’ look off of your face. I can’t have any fun if you’re terrified.” Shelby shook her head and turned back into the bathroom. “Come on. Sit your ass down here so I can get your face and hair into shape.”

Jackie sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I feel like an idiot, a sixteen-year-old, blubbering, virgin idiot.”

“Got to start somewhere.” Shelby chuckled and tipped Jackie’s head back to level. “Now be still and quit verklempting on me. It’s all good, Jackie. Nick is likely just as nervous. Trust me. You don’t need to stress this much.”

She took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to fuck this up. Which is stupid. I’m thirty-two and it’s a damn dinner out with a guy I like, for crying out loud, and he said he likes me. He wouldn’t lie about that, would he?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear gods and goddesses. Should I mojo you up, Jack? I could mellow you right out if you want.”

“What? No! No way.”

“Then calm down. This is supposed to be fun. Pretend it is, for all of our sakes. Please?”

Jackie nodded and said nothing. She could pretend. It was just like girl’s night out: getting dressed up, having drinks, and flirting with guys. She could do that. She had done it before, sort of. If half a dozen shots of tequila counted for getting warmed up. Maybe a couple of glasses of wine would chill her out once they got there. But not too much. What if she did get drunk? Jackie cringed at the thought.

Her inner battle continued while Shelby worked her magic. Every five minutes, Laurel would sigh heavily and give her a stern look, and Jackie would take a deep breath and let the tension out of her neck and shoulders and sooth the squirming worms in her gut. After about an hour, Shelby finally stepped back.

“All right.” She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “Think that will do. We still have a couple hours before Nick picks you up, so we can have a beer or two and then touch up the lipstick before you go.”

Touch up the lipstick? Jackie never thought to hear that term in relation to her mouth. It was a very odd feeling having it there, coating her lips. Oddest of all was the hat. She looked herself up and down, wondering who the person standing there might be. A stranger straight out of the 1920s or 1930s. That was the hat mostly, a black, short-brimmed, rounded top thing with a purple silk ribbon embroidered with flowers running around it. The blouse and skirt gave her a fluid, undulating look, making her look as though she were moving even when still. Shelby had made her put on black nylons, something she had not worn since high school. At least she had been nice enough to get her flats instead of heels, though something on them shimmered in the light, which would just draw people’s gaze.

The last thing Jackie wanted to was to draw people’s attention. “Couldn’t you have picked something more subtle?”

Laurel moved next to her, admiring the outfit in the mirror. “Compared to what other women will be wearing at this event, you are being subtle, hon. You look beautiful.”

It didn’t look bad at all. Not something she would have ever chosen for herself, but Jackie felt she could not really complain. “Seems rather demure, don’t you think?”

“See!” Shelby said, pointing a finger at Laurel. “I told you. Demure is perfect. Nick loves that look. He’ll be all over . . .” She stopped and shook her head. “He’ll think you look gorgeous.”

Jackie reached out and touched the image of her lips in the mirror. How could they look so full? Perhaps Nick would want to kiss them again. She could handle that. No risk there, right? Why did something so exciting have to be so utterly terrifying at the same time? It was so unfair.

“OK, you’re getting that ‘lost in the woods’ look again, babe. Let’s get a beer or two in you before you go out and settle those nerves.”

If anything, the nerves got worse. Two hours was a long time to fritter away on two beers. Her stomach had become so knotted it hurt. Puking in Nick’s Porsche would be a wonderful way to start the evening. Shelby told some stories of her times with Nick back in the thirties, fun times, before Drake came along and ruined everything, and Nick became a guilt-ridden, depressing shell of his former self.

“He needs you, you know,” Shelby said at one point. “He needs someone who understands and wants him, too. The man desperately wants to live again. He’s been trying to get back to the Nick of old, and you can help him do that, Jack.”

“I don’t want to have the burden of making or breaking the man,” Jackie replied.

Shelby threw up her hands. “Holy shit. You both are putting way to much drama into this. If you two would just fucking relax and be yourselves, things would be hunky-dory. Throw all the paranormal bullshit aside for tonight. Just be a couple of people out on the town, having fun. Is it really that goddamn hard?”

“Easy for you to say,” Jackie muttered.

“It is easy!” she yelled back. “Fuck. I need another beer.” Shelby got up and stormed back to the kitchen and didn’t return for several minutes.

“She means well,” Laurel said quietly from the other side of the couch they were seated upon. “She wants this to work.”

“I know. Wouldn’t mind seeing it work too. I think that may be what scares me the most, Laur. He’s going to see past all this . . .”—she waved a hand at her outfit—“stuff, and the real me is going to be a huge disappointment.”

“Nonsense. I hate when you do that.” She leaned over to Jackie and whispered in her ear with kind urgency. “You aren’t your mother and you never, ever will be.”

Jackie sniffed. “Damn it. You’re going to make me cry. Stop.” She let out a huge breath of air. “I’ll be fine. I can face down a dead raging mother and her baby. I can do a stupid date.”

At that moment, Shelby’s doorbell rang, and she came striding out of the kitchen, beer in hand. “Thank the Mother, he’s here.” She waved her beer bottle in Jackie’s direction. “And for fuck’s sake, look happy to see him. Please?”

Jackie stood up and straightened out her skirt. “OK.” She turned to Laurel and smiled. “Calm and relaxed. I’m calm and relaxed.” Her eyes drifted toward the front door. “You really don’t think this is too much purple, do you?”

“You’re perfect. Now hush and go say hi.”