The Lingering Dead (21 page)

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Authors: J. N. Duncan

BOOK: The Lingering Dead
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“Perhaps you did not hear me the first time,” Charlotte said, her voice low and angry. “There is no one here by that name.”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, her silhouette a near mirror image to Charlotte's. “Who is it, Charlie?”
“Becca!” Charlotte whirled away from the door. “I said to stay inside.”
“I am,” she replied, startled by Charlotte's abrupt attack. “I was just curious ... who is she?” Rebecca hesitantly stepped onto the porch. “She feels funny.”
Feels? Jackie gave Rebecca a harder look. Why would she say that? Even Nick's voice repeated the statement in her ear. He was as confused by it as she was.
A sharp gasp rang through her head. Laurel's pressure on her, waiting on the edge to bust out, quickly receded.
Jackie?
Laurel's voice was tinged with fear.
Her eyes.
Jackie saw it at the same moment. They weren't as bright as Charlotte's but they had the same definite, eerie gray glow to them.
Oh, shit! She turned her.
“She feels,” Charlotte said, “like someone who was just leaving. Isn't that right, Ms. Rutledge?” The screen door pushed open and Charlotte stepped out.
Jackie took a couple of steps back and reached into her coat, fumbling for one of the stun grenades, just in case this went south in a hurry. “How are you, Jessica? Do you want to go home?”
“Jackie?” Nick said. “There's some activity in the town. Let's call this.”
Good idea, hon. Charlotte's good will is deteriorating fast. Let's go.
Jessica's head cocked to one side, accented by the odd angle of her eyes. “But I am home. I don't understand. Who's Jessica, Sis?”
“An old friend,” Charlotte said and moved down the steps. “Now go back inside like I asked. Our uninvited guest was just leaving and not coming back.”
Each step forward pushed Jackie back. She could not tell if it was fear or common sense that made her keep her distance. “Jessica! If you're in trouble, we can help you.”
“Trouble?” If anything, her confusion had intensified. “Did something happen, Sis?”
“It's about to,” Charlotte replied. She stopped and pointed a stern finger at Jessica. “Now get back in the house!”
“Get out of there!” Nick yelled in Jackie's ear. “We're heading for the drive.”
Jackie palmed the grenade in her hand. “Apparently, Ms. Thatcher, your sister is well. Our information was in error.”
Hon? Drop the bomb. Run.
The finger that had been pointing at Jessica swiveled around to Jackie. “Coming to my town was an error, Ms. Rutledge. You
will
leave and not come back. You
will
forget you ever came or that you
ever
met me. Do you understand?”
A wave of cold deluged Jackie, numbing her brain.
God ... fucking ... damn.
“She's charming you, Jackie! Stun her. Get the hell out.”
Laurel leaped out as Jackie staggered back, flying right at Charlotte with a scream that would impress any banshee. She did little to Charlotte, other than pass directly through her, but the moment was enough to startle, and that broke the icy vice that had clamped down on Jackie's brain.
She dropped the grenade, releasing the handle and bolted. Fist fights, gun battles, even the previous craziness holding baby ghosts in her uterus were all preferable to having the dead, wonky eyes boring into her soul. That was a line that no longer got crossed.
One-point-eight seconds later, the ground shook and a wall of air slammed into Jackie, throwing her forward. She tucked her shoulder, turned into a roll, hit the gravel with a thud, and was back on her feet, ears ringing so loudly, she could not hear Nick's voice yelling in her ear. At the bottom of the hill, she could see a pair of headlights coming up the drive. Without looking to see what had happened to Charlotte, Jackie ran like hell.
A high-pitched, childish scream pierced the night air. There was no pain in the sound, only rage. Jackie knew there was no chance in hell of outrunning Charlotte. She only hoped that she could reach the Explorer before Charlotte reached her. A hundred feet down the drive, Shelby slid to a stop, swinging the car around 270 degrees. Nick leaped out as she approached, eyes ablaze.
“Get in!” shouted Nick.
Jackie practically dove in, bouncing off the back of the front seat. Behind her, Jackie heard a chilling word, from a voice turned down an octave from the cute, fourteen-year-old she had just talked to. The petulance and haughtiness from before had turned into something Jackie did not recognize.
“You!”
Jackie sat up. Nick still stood outside of the door. “Nick! Let's go.”
“Good evening, Ms. Thatcher,” Nick said.
“Damn it, Nick!” Shelby yelled. “Get in.”
“You!” Charlotte screamed this time.
“It's time you stopped this madness, Charlotte,” Nick said. “Let the town go.”
“Fuck, Nick,” Shelby said. “Carson's coming.”
Jackie looked down the hill. In the center of town, red and blue lights flashed off the buildings of Main Street. Through the trees off the side of the road, Jackie caught a glimpse of foggy gray moving up the hill. The ghosts were coming again.
“This is my town,” Charlotte said. “You abandoned it, and now—”
“Sis?” Jessica stood at the top of the drive. “Who are these people?”
Charlotte whirled about. “Becca! Back in the house.”
Seizing the chance, Jackie leaned out the door and grabbed Nick by the jacket. “Get the fuck in the car, Nick.”
Shelby was spinning the tires on the gravel before he was even inside, dragging his feet along the ground before he could pull himself inside. Out the back window, Jackie could see little in the darkness at the top of the drive other than the faint glow of Charlotte's eyes. At the bottom, Shelby hit the street going at least fifty. At the end, where the road ran into Main Street, Carson's police car skidded around the corner, illuminating the last thing any of them hoped to see. A crowd had gathered in the street.
Backlit by the glaring, swirling lights, Jackie stared in disbelief at the shadowy crowd walking toward them. It was straight out of a bad horror movie. More stunning, she could see the black silhouettes of guns in their hands.
Shelby realized it at the same moment. “Fucking hell! They're armed.”
To emphasize the realization, the front window of the Explorer erupted in a shower of pebbled glass, and Jackie threw up her arms to shield her face. Shelby spun the wheel, throwing the Explorer off the road between the pharmacy and Tom's Shoes, a space barely wider than the SUV. It smashed into and over a pair of garbage cans, through a stack of wooden crates, and finally burst out behind in the parking lot for the Main Street businesses. The police car entered a moment later.
“He'll chase us all the way to the damn airport,” Shelby said.
Jackie crawled over into the back and grabbed her other stun grenade. “Let him get closer. This should knock him off the road.” She reached for the latch and pushed up the rear window. “About fifty feet, Shel.”
Shelby slowed out of the parking lot, tires still screeching on the asphalt as the Explorer oriented itself on the main highway. Carson was speeding across the parking lot now, catching up quickly. With 1.8 seconds, it would not take much. Jackie just needed him sliding out of the driveway and onto the road behind them. Roll the grenade into the middle of the road at the right time and let him drive right over it.
Jackie pulled the pin and waited.
Almost there. And ...
“Shit!” Shelby yelled. The Explorer lurched sideways and suddenly braked.
The momentum sent Jackie flying against the back seat. Her elbow smacked into the side window, and the grenade tumbled forward to the floor.
“Out,” Jackie exclaimed, and scrambled to get out the back window. She was halfway over, straddling the tailgate when the grenade detonated. The concussion propelled her out and she hit the pavement back first, knocking the wind from her lungs. A couple of rolls and she found herself face down in the middle of Main Street. Tires screeched impossibly close and Jackie struggled to push herself back up to her knees.
“Hold it right there, Ms. Rutledge,” Carson yelled in her ear. “You're under arrest.”
Jackie turned her head and found the barrel of his gun a few inches from her face. “Chief Carson,” she said and tried to smile. Her mouth hurt and she could taste blood. “Just the worm I wanted to see.”
There were footsteps on the pavement, and then Nick's voice. “Jackie! Are you all right?”
“Don't even think about it,” Carson said. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Jackie slumped back over, her head swimming. It was time to bring in the cavalry.
Chapter 20
The dashboard of the vehicle cracked beneath the force of Nick's fist. Shelby let go of the wheel and set her hand on Nick's thigh. “We have to wait for McManus, babe. We can't risk Charlotte sensing our presence and putting Jackie in danger. We can't.”
“She's in danger regardless,” he said.
“Carson won't do anything to her other than be an annoying shit,” she replied. “And Charlotte will leave her alone as long as she believes her town isn't threatened.”
“We can't assume that, Shel. Charlotte's got strangers who know who and what she is. She has been threatened, and the source of that is sitting right in the town jail.”
“Babe, hate to say this, but she's not the threat. You are,” she replied. “The second you stepped out of the car back on the hill, she knew who you were.”
Nick sagged back in the seat and closed his eyes. He could still see Charlotte, flying down the hill toward Jackie and then coming to a dead stop when he stepped out of the SUV. She had known instantly. A century later and the memory of his brief time in her life had not dulled.
He sighed. “A mistake. One that Jackie cannot suffer for.”
“And the best thing to do is stay the hell away until McManus gets here. Hell, I'm more worried about the fucking townsfolk. They were coming after us with guns in case you didn't notice. That girl's control over this place is insane.”
“They failed her,” Nick said. “Drake destroyed her family and she's never let them move on.”
Shelby shook her head. “That doesn't matter anymore. Babe, I get the guilt. Really, I do, but this is a fucking bad situation. We have to stop her before shit really hits the fan.”
She was right, of course. This was way beyond just stopping Charlotte. The entire town was at risk, one big powder keg waiting to blow up on them. And Jackie was stuck right in the middle of it. Nick pulled out his phone and punched in Hauser's number. After a moment he had the number he needed.
They had just pulled into the parking lot for the private hangar space at Dubuque's airport. Shelby eyed him curiously. “Margolin? You think he'll help us?”
“He's going to,” Nick said. “Margolin? Nick Anderson, here.”
“Well,” Margolin said, “you guys sure do provide some good cover copy.”
“No thanks to your lack of involvement,” Nick replied. “You've been playing the wrong side, Margolin.”
“Is that so? Your recent actions seem to have proven my point,” he said. “Can't say going after Charlotte again was a wise move.”
“You want the real story, Margolin?” Nick asked. “You won't be able to print it, but I'll give you the real story.”
“I can print any story I want,” Margolin said. “But I am curious why you think that.”
“Because nobody would believe it,” Nick said. “Because people don't believe in the kinds of things we're involved with, and you would be laughed right off your paper.”
There was a moment of silence. “I'm assuming there's a catch in all of this? You want me to fabricate some dirt on the Thatchers?”
“I want you to stake out the Thatcher's Mill police station,” Nick said. “I want you to keep an eye on anyone going into or out of there until we get back.”
“And?”
“That's it,” Nick said. “You call me the second anyone leaves or enters that building, no matter who it is, and I'll tell you all about the fact that you're sitting in a town being controlled by a vampire.”
Margolin's bark of laughter rang in Nick's ear. “Vampires? You can't be ...” He laughed again. “You think Charlotte Thatcher is a vampire? Oh, that's rich.” Nick said nothing in reply. “You're serious. Why in the world would you believe that girl is a vampire?”
“Because I saw her turn into one back in 1897 when I came through Thatcher's Mill the first time.”
Shelby stared at him. “Nick, what are you doing?”
“The first? Wait,” Margolin began, then paused. “That was a hundred and ten years ago.”
“Yes,” Nick said. “I was in pursuit of the man responsible for the Tannenbaum fire.”
“Hold on. Hold on a second. Are you telling me the guy in Chicago—”
“A vampire,” Nick replied. “He killed Charlotte Thatcher's family and made her into a vampire, just like he did to me thirty years prior.”
“So ... you're a vampire, too.” Nick could hear the disbelief in Margolin's voice, but it was still having the desired effect. Curiosity.
“I am,” Nick said. “You want the rest of the story, though, you'll have to help me. Ms. Rutledge is not safe in that jail. If anyone goes into or out of that building, you must let me know.”
“Or?” Margolin asked. “I'm going to guess there's an implied threat here somewhere. I'm not stupid, Mr. Anderson.”
“No, you aren't,” Nick said. “You're just likely under the thrall of Ms. Thatcher. She's a threat to anyone in that town, and especially Ms. Rutledge. I'm giving you one chance here to do the right thing and help me ensure her safety.”
“Or?”
“Or the next time I see you, Margolin,” Nick said slowly. “I will show you exactly what a vampire is capable of.” He gave Margolin his number. “One chance. Choose now.”
He chuckled. “Just like that, Mr. Anderson? Play watchdog or have you drink my blood?”
“Something like that, yes. Good-bye, Margolin.” Nick clicked off and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Shelby squeezed his thigh. “Nice play, babe. You going to make good on that threat?”
Nick propped his elbow on the windowsill and rested his head on his hand. “Count on it.”
 
 
It was an agonizing seventy-three minutes before McManus's plane arrived. Three times Nick pulled out his phone to call Carson. On the third, Shelby yanked it out of his hand.
“Don't,” she said. “It won't accomplish a damn thing. I'm sure she's fine, and Laurel is with her.”
“Glad you're so sure of things,” Nick bit back. “Carson is in Charlotte's back pocket. She could have him walk up and shoot her right in the goddamned cell.”
“But he won't, because Charlotte wants her town. She wants her people, and bringing down the wrath of outside law enforcement is the last thing she wants.”
Nick sat in silence for several seconds. He knew this was the case, but there was a time, when any house of cards reached its limit and adding one more card would cause it to topple. “I pray she doesn't realize the wrath of the outside law is already on its way.”
She slapped the phone back into his hand. “Babe, nobody prays to the gods of the badge and gun.”
“I hope it doesn't come to that,” he said.
“Me too.” She leaned over and glanced out the window. “Oh, look! I think the law has arrived a little early.”
Nick leaned forward and saw the Learjet making its approach. He hoped it would be early enough.
A second car was waiting out by the tarmac for McManus. They would not be going in the same car since Nick and Shelby could not risk entering the town when McManus did. He jumped off the steps of the plane the moment they were down and walked quickly over to greet them.
“I got out here as quickly as I could,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “County sheriff knows I'm coming in, so regardless of how this goes down, I'm calling them in as soon as we're done, hopefully with Jack on this side of the bars.”
Nick nodded and followed him as he took off immediately for his car. “McManus, you realize what sort of situation they might be walking into?”
“I know,” he replied. “Not a good one. They know it's a hostile situation, and I told them to keep a low profile until the rest of us get out of here. We've got about two hours until they do. Pernetti, and despite Jack's opinion, he knows what he's doing, is pulling together the team. If we don't have Jack out before then, it'll be the team's call on what to do next. This is a new gig for us, Mr. Anderson. We're kind of winging it.”
Nick thrust his hands into his pockets. This whole thing could so easily go wrong in so many ways. Worse, it may have already. “We're right behind you,” he said.
If they had any doubts about McManus's sense of urgency, his disregard for traffic safety and the rules of the road erased them. Even Shelby had to work to keep up with him. Nick was thankful for the speed at which he got them there, but when she pulled their car off to the side of the road a mile short of town, Nick's stomach began to tighten.
Shelby's fist popped him in the shoulder. “Quit worrying. We've got this. McManus will have her out in no time.”
“Five minutes,” Nick said. “If he hasn't called in five minutes, we're going in.”
She grinned. “Fair enough, Sheriff.”
Nick stared at his watch and then back to his phone, counting each and every second. Two minutes later he swore under his breath. “It's taking too long.”
“Oh, for God's sake, would you—”
The cell rang, and Nick clicked in immediately. “You got her?”
“We've got a problem here,” McManus said, sounding far more confused than worried.
The casing of Nick's phone cracked under the pressure of his hand. “What? What's happened?”
“You better come on in,” he said. “She's not here.”

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