by J N Duncan
“Then quit trying to do it by yourself.” Shelby leaned forward and gave Jackie a quick hard kiss on the mouth. “You’ve got people who want to help.” She stood up, towering over Jackie. “Let them, you stubborn bitch.”
Jackie stared up at the hand being offered to her. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and then took Shelby’s, who pulled her up with the slightest effort. “That’s the hardest part.”
“It is,” she said, and walked over to pick up her teapot laying on the couch. “But if you can’t ask for help, then you deserve whatever end you get.”
That was one harsh way of looking at it. “Will you help me?”
“That depends,” she replied. Shelby patted the couch. “Sit back down, please.” She waited until Jackie reluctantly moved around and sat back down. Her cheeks still stung and her jaw was beginning to ache. “What do you want help with?”
Jackie rubbed at her jaw. “Everything.”
She laughed. “Be a little more specific.”
There were so many other things. Jackie picked up her cup and gulped down the cognac-laced tea. “I need a life.”
Shelby laughed. “Don’t we all, babe. That requires being with other people. And, gee, you know someone who wants to be with you.”
“I don’t get why he’s interested in someone like me.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a huff of frustration. “Maybe it’s because you’re smart and tenacious? Maybe it’s because you don’t take bullshit from anyone? Maybe it’s because you’ll fight for what’s right no matter what the costs are? Maybe it’s because you’re cute as hell and you turn him on.”
“I’m not cute.”
“I think you vastly underestimate your appeal,” Shelby said. “Of course you do absolutely nothing to heighten the appeal, which I think Nick finds utterly attractive.”
Jackie took another gulp of tea. “Yeah, well. What should I do now?”
“Go home. Rest. We need to figure out these psychic abilities of yours so they don’t drive you batty. And you should read some of Laur’s journal. I think it will help you come to terms with some things. She’s really very insightful.”
Shelby’s face softened as she spoke about Laurel, the mischievous smile curving into something else all together. She truly did care about her. “I miss her,” Jackie said. “I bitched her out yesterday like an idiot because I haven’t seen her.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jackie. She understands. She misses you, but she can’t make any of these problems go away. That’s all on you.”
Jackie sighed. “I really have no idea what I’m doing anymore.”
“Most of us don’t, but we get support from our friends to help us get through.”
“Are we friends?”
Shelby leaned over and kissed Jackie on the cheek. “Of course, unless you don’t want to be.”
“No, I do. I need all the friends I can get.”
Chapter 17
Jackie set the journal down in her lap and took a sip from her glass of wine. She remembered little of that first day of FBI training. She had been a nervous wreck and kept to herself, too afraid to say anything that might make her sound stupid, especially compared to Bailey Thompson, the pretentious Princeton bitch. She was working in D.C. the last she had heard. Sadly, she couldn’t remember much about Laur from that first day either. The first study night, though, she did. That was when she had decided they would be friends. Jackie thumbed through the next couple of pages until she found the entry. It had happened fairly quickly after classes began.
“God, Laur,” Jackie said. “Nine days? How could you think of me like that after just nine days? That’s crazy.”
Jackie turned each page with care, picking through the entries. Some she skimmed, others she read each word. The sensation of watching Laurel’s life unfold before eyes was a surreal one, much like a flower blooming through time-lapse photography. Thirty-two days into the journal, Jackie stopped at a compelling opening line.
Jackie wiped at the tears in her eyes. No more morning coffee trips. They had often been the best part of their day. Laurel had usually paid, too. Not that Jackie couldn’t afford it, but it just always seemed to work out that way. Laurel took care of things, the things she didn’t want to do or couldn’t do or was too lazy to do. Jackie looked at the words in the journal again, her finger tracing over them. I think there’s some part of her that needs to be taken care of.
A tear ran down her cheek. “How did you put up with me for so long, Laur? You did it all. You gave me everything and I gave you nothing.”
A cold tingle washed over her, raising the fine hairs on her arms. A moment later, Laurel stood at the foot of her bed, a sympathetic smile turning the corners of her mouth. “Hi.”
Jackie closed the journal. “Were you listening in or something?”
“Sweetie, I can almost always hear you, but especially when you talk to me.”
“I was talking to myself, really.”
“I know,” she said. “You still mad at me?”
Jackie heaved a sigh. “Laur, when have I ever been mad at you for more than three seconds?”
“This last time you were.”
True. This time around it had stung more than most. “I was being selfish and a bitch and I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m terrified of my life right now, and . . .” she gave Laurel a helpless shrug, “I miss my caretaker.”
Laurel looked down at the journal in Jackie’s lap. “Have you read much of it yet?”
“Just a few entries. Is everything in here about me?”
“Mostly it is. Work stuff too.”
“I’ll read more,” she said. “I think I need to. You know me better than I know myself.”
“Some of it might be hard to read.”
“I figured as much. I can be a real pain in the ass.”
“But in a good way,” she said, her effort at being light falling short of its mark.
Jackie sniffled. “I’ve so much to apologize to you for. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You don’t have to, hon.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I have no regrets about what we had, and we still do to some degree. I only wish I’d been able to tell you how much I love you before I did.”
“Not sure I would have handled that well. I’m not sure that I am now,” she said with a sardonic chuckle.
“I know,” she replied, “and maybe now’s not the time to discuss all of that. I can’t be your therapist, Jackie. Not anymore.”
She nodded. “I know. I have to take care of myself and all that shit. I’m not good at that.”
“Learn then,” she said. “Talk to Tillie. Don’t give me that look! She’s exceptionally good and kind and understanding and most importantly, she cares. She wants to help you, Jackie. She told me numerous times.”
“Why? I still don’t get that other than the fact she gets paid good money to do it.”
Laurel shrugged and smiled warmly. “Because she likes you. Because she sees what I did, even if you don’t. But she can’t do anything unless you’re willing and believe you deserve something better for yourself.”
She picked up the journal and set it on the nightstand. “What if I don’t? Or what if she can’t help?”
“You do and she will. Jackie, you have to try. I never gave up on you, so you can’t either. And yes, I know how terrifying it is to just lay it out there to someone, but I did it and it was because of you.”
“Me? What do you mean? I never told you to seek therapy.”
“You gave me the strength to do it,” she said. “Because every day you’d do whatever it took to make sure the needs of justice were met, no matter how dangerous or frightening it might be.”
“Yeah, but that’s work.”
“And why shouldn’t that apply to you? You are more important than your job, hon.”
“I guess—”
“You are! I want to see you happy with your life, don’t you?”
A happy life
. Now there was a foreign concept. Did she even know what that meant? “This may sound stupid, but—”
“Then it’s time to figure it out,” Laurel stated, poking a finger into Jackie’s leg. “You deserve to be happy, hon. Say it.”
“That’s silly. I’m not going—”
“Say it, you stubborn, cantankerous woman!”
“God. OK. I deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you.” She grinned. “Now then. What’s going on with this psychic thing? Maybe it’s something I can help you with.”
“You have permission for that?”
“Don’t be a bitch. Tell me what’s happened.”
So she did.
Chapter 18
The phone pulled Jackie out of dreamless sleep. The clock read 5:37 AM. Caller ID told her it was Belgerman. Shit. That couldn’t be good.
“This can’t be good,” she said.
“We’ve got another one, Jackie. Another gang member associated with Renaldo Vasquez has been murdered. You want to grab Anderson and Fontaine and bring them down here? Rest of the team is on its way.”
Jackie groaned. Not really. “Where’s here, sir?”
“Outside a little town called Iroquois.”
“That doesn’t sound very close.”
“It’s about two hours south,” he said.
Jackie winced. “I hate you, sir.” She sat up and rubbed a hand over her face. “I’ll be heading out within the hour, with or without them.”
“OK.” There was a brief silence. “Should I ask how things went yesterday?”
Shit. It was too early for this kind of discussion. “I guess I’m psychic, if that’s the answer you were looking for.”
“I see.” He paused again. “Do I want to know what that means?”
“It means I have no clue, sir.”
“I’m sorry, Jackie. Let me know if I can help.”
“Just don’t fire me for it,” Jackie said. “Right now, I don’t know if it means anything.”
“All right. Just keep me informed. Are Anderson and Fontaine helping you at all?”
“They’re trying.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you later, Jackie.”
She hung up and punched in Nick’s number. It was time for the circus to hit the road again.
Five shots of espresso and a dash of cream and an hour down the road, Jackie cursed at the rain and single-lane highway traffic.
“They’ll have everything bagged and tagged by the time we get down there,” she said, cutting back in to her lane after passing a listing pickup brimming over with rusted-out junk.
Nick let go of the door handle as the Durango resumed its frenetic pace down the road. “They might be able to add us to the list at this rate.”
Jackie gave him a sidelong glance while Shelby laughed in the backseat. “I’ve been driving for seventeen years with only one accident,” Jackie said. “And that was in a chase. I had no choice.”
“Only takes one,” he muttered.
“Nick, you’re such a wuss,” Shelby chided. “You get nervous when anyone besides you is behind the wheel.”
“After years of driving with you, can you blame me?”
She snickered at him. “Jackie, when we get there, I think you’ll want to stick with one of us, just in case something happens like yesterday.”
“I won’t be doing much of anything other than watching and looking, unless Pernetti decides he wants my input,” she said. “It’s not my case, and my only responsibility is bringing you two.”
They passed through Iroquois, a blink-and-youmissed-it town on the banks of the Iroquois River. Just the other side, the GPS had them turn onto Township Road 407, which was blocked off. Jackie flashed her badge and got waved forward, but they were halted at the drive heading into the woods.
A sheriff’s deputy came up to the window as Jackie eased the Durango to the side of the road. He gave a quick glance to Jackie’s badge and gave her a grim smile. “Far as you can go right now with the car, Agent Rutledge. They’ve got tire and footprints they’re dealing with right now.”
“Lovely. How far to the scene from here?”
“Quarter mile into the woods there.”
“Great.” She turned to find Shelby handing over her jacket. “Thanks.” It was her feet she was worried about though. They would be wet and mudcaked by the time they reached the scene.
They walked through the dripping wood, wet leaves swooping down on their heads. Jackie kept her gaze focused on the ground, stepping over and around puddles in the gravel drive. Shelby walked right down the middle, her feet shuffling through the long grass, oblivious to the wet strands that were soaking the cuffs of her pants.
“This is lovely,” she said. “I adore the fall.”
Jackie cast an annoyed glance her way and proceed to step into two inches of water. “Gah! God damn it! Yeah, getting soaked is one of my favorite pastimes, too.”
She laughed. “Watch where you’re walking then.”
Nick, who had walked ahead, stopped at the point where the wood opened into a clearing. Immediately ahead, crime-scene tape cordoned off a patch of ground outside of a double-wide mobile home. A window facing the area had been broken out and a pale, sickly yellow curtain swung against broken shards of glass. The gravel drive turned into a large circular parking area sandwiched between the double-wide and another single-wide mobile home on the other side. There were a half dozen vehicles parked in the circle, two sheriff’s vehicles, and a pair of FBI cars. A van for hauling the bodies away was parked off to the side by the single.
Jackie paused next to Nick, looking up at his placid face, whose eyes were unfocused. “Sense something, Nick?”
“Mmm,” he said. “See if you can.”
“How? I’ve never tried to do any of this shit. It just happens.”
Shelby stopped on the other side of her. “That’s what you need to figure out, how to reach out to it before it reaches out to you.”
“You make it sound like a living thing,” she said and scanned the scene, thinking perhaps she might see a ghostly figure walking among the crowd. Her gaze fell on Denny, who waved and began to walk her way.
“It’s a force,” Shelby said. “It’s a matter of opening your awareness to it.”
“Oh. Is that all?” She waved back at Denny. “Hey, Den. What have we got here?”
“Four dead Hispanics, three males, one female,” he said. “All gunshots to the head, except the one, who’s had his guts spilled all over the floor. And . . . one survivor, critical condition, was airlifted out about an hour ago.”
“They say anything?”
“Something about a pissed-off black dude,” he said.
“I see,” she said. They needed to track down every black guy who was at the crime scene. Given the neighborhood, the percentage was likely low. Morgan was the only one she knew of and that seemed highly unlikely. Cops were too strong-willed to get possessed. Or at least they should be, and Morgan would have no connection to the vics to want revenge. Right? Jackie could not rule the possibility out and decided it would be something to check on later. “Where are the vics?”
“They’re all in the van now. Pernetti, Jenkins, and Wendall are in the big mobile home there picking through things. Sheriff guys are in the other trailer packing up the weed. Think there might be heroin, too.”
Nick pointed at the taped off section of grass. “Who died there?”
“That was the female,” Denny said. “Shot in the back trying to run away after jumping out the window there.”
He took a couple of steps toward the grass. “I think she’s still here somewhere.”
Shelby agreed. “Someone is, that’s for sure. Jackie? Can you sense anything?”
Denny blinked at her, wide-eyed, confused. “What? You mean like a ghost. No shit? You can too, Jack?”
Jackie licked her lips, a burst of warmth rushing into her face. She could feel something, but it was too vague for her to grasp onto. “No. I mean, u
m . . . I don’t know exactly.” Why did they have to bring it up like that? Just bam! Yeah, Jackie’s psychic now, how about that?
“Fucking-A,” Denny said, wagging a disbelieving finger at her. “This is why you’re back early on this case, isn’t it? Something happened when you . . . well, when you almost died.”
“Den, don’t you have something better to do?” She wanted nothing more than for him to go away and keep word of ghosts to himself.
Shelby saved her. She stepped up and kindly pushed at Denny, turning him back toward the scene. “Leave her alone, Denny. This is unfamiliar territory we’re exploring here and you’re making her nervous. So, shoo! Go away.”
He gave one look at Shelby and nodded. “OK, I’m going. Need a pic of anything, just holler.” Denny kept walking but looked back over his shoulder at Jackie several times, a mixture of awe and disbelief on his face.
Jackie pulled her hands out of her pockets and rubbed them over her face. “Shit. That’s the last thing I need. Whole fucking office is going to know by the end of the day.”
Shelby squeezed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Stop that right now, Jackie.”
The squeeze snapped her attention back. She looked at Shelby. “What? I’m not doing anything.”
“I know that look and I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “Don’t. It won’t be like that unless you let it. Right now, you just need to focus on the task at hand. Relax. You get any more tense and you’ll snap in two.”
“I really don’t want to be doing this.”
“I know, but tough shit, babe. You need to do this or it’ll end up driving you bonkers.”
Jackie gave her an evil glare and pulled free of Shelby’s grip. “Fine.” She walked hurriedly over to where Nick stood. “What do I do?”
Nick squatted down by the string that cordoned off where the body had been. “Can you feel that general, pervasive sense of the dead? Like when you know Laurel is about to come.”
“I know what it is,” Jackie snapped back. She took a couple of deep breaths. The moment she envisioned Laurel arriving, the feeling clarified, like a dense, unseen fog settling over the entire area. The air took on a thicker, earthier odor along with the familiar creeping cold that began deep within her bones and radiated outward.