Read The Lingering Dead Online

Authors: J. N. Duncan

The Lingering Dead (26 page)

A phone rang then, and McManus took his out. “Good. You sure? Yeah, hold on, Maddox, let me put you on speaker so the team can hear. OK, go ahead.”
“Hey, guys, save me some doughnuts,” he said. “And someone bring me a fucking umbrella. I'm not getting paid enough to sit here in the rain.”
“What's going on there?” Jackie asked. “Anything new?”
“Our girl is back,” he said. “Or someone is. Lights just came on at the Thatcher house, and surprisingly, the town has suddenly quieted down. Lot of folk milling around the diner, but looks like the violence has stopped or moved indoors, anyway. Even hicks know better than to fight outside on a night like this.”
“Nice to know that we're dumber than hicks,” Jackie said. “Maddox, you keep your eyes glued on that house. We need to know if anyone comes or goes. We're coming down there soon to deal with the town situation before we make any moves on Charlotte Thatcher.”
“Good,” he replied. “Tired of sitting on my ass out here.”
“You'll probably wish it was still there by the end of the night, Maddox,” she replied.
He laughed. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call if anything changes. Out.”
“OK,” McManus said to everyone. “Hopefully that means we're good to take her down, but we need to button down the town and these ghosts before we can make a move on Ms. Thatcher. Barring those two items means we're left with more drastic options, and I'd rather not deal with those unless we've exhausted everything else. So, let's figure out how we're going to secure the town and get Jack around to gather up some ghosts.”
By seven-thirty, they were loaded up in three cars and heading down to Thatcher's Mill. Jackie did not bother to drive; she was too nervous. What she had done with Rosa and her baby had been born of desperation. It was that or possibly be killed. This was altogether different. She would have to talk to and convince two to three dozen ghosts to go along with her or else Nick and Shelby would be consuming them. Regardless of the fact that these people were already dead, it gave her the sick feeling to think of killing them all over again.
The alternative is worse,
Laurel said.
I
know, but it still sucks. This whole case is turning into one big clusterfuck. So many things could go wrong here.
Something brushed across her hand and grabbed ahold, making Jackie lurch in surprise, but it was only Nick's hand.
“You'll make this work,” he said. “Don't worry.”
“And you're ready to destroy them if I don't?”
“If it comes to that,” he said. “We'll do what needs to be done.”
He said the right words, but Jackie was not convinced by his tone. If she failed, Nick would not want to do this. “You realize that I probably won't be able to convince all of them. You'll have to take some of them.”
“I know,” he said and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “And yes, I won't like it, but we can't give Charlotte access to that kind of power, if she's indeed able to do it, which I suspect she is.”
“We should take some of them anyway,” Shelby said. “We could use the extra boost against Charlotte. Actually, I wouldn't mind draining a couple pints from that ass-hat Carson. I'll bet Charlotte's been tapping him for years.”
McManus laughed. “You guys are never dull for conversation, are you?”
Jackie huffed. “Think I'd rather talk nail polish.”
“Now that you mention it,” Shelby replied, “I need to get a good holiday color.”
The holidays. Jackie rolled her eyes at Shelby and turned to stare at the streaking splatter of raindrops across the window. Christmas seemed so far away, and it was yet another routine of her life that was going to be turned upside down from previous years. She felt Laurel getting ready to say something and cut her off.
Don't. Thanks, but please, just not now.
They arrived far sooner than she had hoped, twenty minutes flying by in what seemed like five, the convoy of three vehicles rolling into town at a casual twenty miles per hour.
“Jack?” McManus asked, pulling to the curb. “You three call me if any kind of shit hits the fan. I'm going to find Carson like we discussed and make sure these folks are settling down.”
“Likewise,” she replied. “We'll be close by, I'm sure, if you need us, especially if Charlotte makes any kind of move. Don't do anything regarding her without calling.”
“Hey, no worries there. Farther away the better as far as I'm concerned,” he said.
Jackie stepped out onto the dark, glistening street lit only by the reflection of light coming from the center of town. The flashing red light at the intersection gave the impression of blood being washed away by the rain. She hoped it was not an omen of things to come.
Chapter 25
Sensing the ghosts was not difficult. Thatcher's Mill sat in a foggy haze of the stuff. Jackie could feel them all around, but the problem was being able to zero in. Laurel walked at will through the walls of the buildings, helping their search. Jackie's biggest worry, other than failing in her efforts to keep the ghosts away from Charlotte, was that they had all moved up to the Thatcher house already.
They walked down a narrow side street behind the main row of businesses on the east side of the highway, working the part of town farthest away from Charlotte. Jackie pulled the hood of her FBI-issue rain slicker over her face a bit more. “You see any?”
“They're around,” Nick said. “Some of them, anyway. Usually we see some walking around, though.”
“Maybe they don't like the shitty weather,” Shelby said.
Laurel came out of the building next to them, a two-story brick store, its windows shuttered against the cold November night. “There's one in here,” she said. “Upstairs in an office.”
“About time,” Shelby replied, and marched over to the back door. The knob cracked beneath the pressure of her hand and a moment later they were inside. A short, dark hallway led toward the front of the store and a stairway went up. Shelby motioned at Jackie. “After you.”
“Too kind,” she muttered, and clomped up the wooden stairs, her boots echoing loudly in the stairwell.
The upstairs had a hall running to a window in the front wall. Two doors lined each side of the hallway, opposite one another. “Last one on the right,” Laurel said.
They reached the door, which was unlocked, and Jackie flipped on the light to find a small office inside, little more than a desk with a file cabinet, a couple of worn, padded chairs, and a bookcase. The ghost of a young woman sat in the long chair opposite the desk, hands folded serenely in her lap, staring at the empty desk.
“Wonder why she's here?” Laurel asked.
Jackie knelt down in front of her, but the woman's gaze remained fixated ahead. “Don't know. Hi there,” she said. “My name is Jackie Rutledge.” There was no response. “I'm here to help you get away from Charlotte.” At the mention of Charlotte's name, the girl's eyes finally focused on Jackie for a moment before returning to gazing ahead. “Do you think you'd like to leave this place? I can help you.” The girl remained unresponsive. “Any ideas, guys?”
“I don't know,” Nick said. “Most of the issues with ghosts I've dealt with in the past were about getting them to move on. These girls don't know who they are anymore, though, so I don't know how that effects anything.”
“She thinks she's Rebecca,” Laurel said. “If we assume she died from Charlotte trying to turn her—” She stopped because the young woman's head turned to face her.
“That got her attention,” Shelby said.
The girl's face had shown a flicker of emotion. The slack mouth had pulled just a little bit taut at Laurel's words. Jackie reached out and put her hand in the girl's. “Rebecca, do you want to go see Charlotte?”
At that, her eyes widened, as though suddenly aware. “I miss Charlie.”
Jackie's stomach tensed. So much for being straightforward. She was going to have to play against her wishes and trick the victims into going with her. So much for the moral high ground. “Would you like to see her, Rebecca? I can take you to her.”
“I miss Mr. Peabody, too.”
What? “Who is Mr. Peabody?”
Laurel answered. “This is Peabody's furniture store.”
“He made me the cutest little doll house,” the young woman said. “I never got to thank him.”
Jackie closed her eyes. Could this make her feel any more like a schmuck? “We'll find Mr. Peabody for you. I'll thank him for you, Rebecca.”
She smiled. “Would you? That would be ever so kind. He was such a nice man.”
Was. Did that mean he was dead? Jackie had no idea. “I will shake his hand personally for you and tell him how happy you were with what he made for you.”
“That would be lovely,” she said. “Could we see Charlie? It's been so long.”
Jackie stood up. “Laur, show her.”
Laurel reached out to Rebecca. “If you come with me, I'll take you to Charlie. I'm sure she would be happy to see you, too.”
Rebecca stared at Jackie for a long moment, until Jackie thought that maybe she did not understand what to do, but then the woman got to her feet and stepped into her to join Laurel.
I wonder, is she far?
Far? No, Rebecca, she's not far at all.
Jackie let out a ragged sigh. Laurel began to talk to her, and Jackie did her best to tune out the murmuring going on in her head. Did Rebecca really have no idea that Charlotte had been around this entire time? How was that possible? “OK, that was easier than I thought it would be. I can't believe she's just been waiting here all this time.”
“Most spirits lingering around among the living tend to be pretty single-minded,” Nick answered. “It's whatever they left behind that they can't let go of. That was well done, Jackie. I couldn't have done better myself.”
“I'll accept congratulations after we're done,” she said. One ghost was not going to do them much good at all, and what happened if they did not get Charlotte? Would she then be stuck with this ghost, in perpetual waiting to visit her long-lost sister?
We'll take them over ourselves if we have to,
Laurel said.
And just drop them off. “See you later, have fun moving on?”
We'll figure it out, hon. Anything is better than this mindless waiting game Charlotte has forced them into.
They moved on and found another ghost two buildings down and then another crossing the street. It had taken nearly half an hour to find three. At this rate it would take them half the night, assuming they could find them all or even reach them all. Jackie was about to bring that issue up when McManus called.
“Hey, Jack,” he said. “Just checking in. How goes the ghost hunting?”
“Three so far,” she replied, “all muttering away with Laurel inside my head. This might become a problem if we have to go into someone's house who is actually at home.”
“Yeah, I considered that one, too, but I think I have a solution. We have about fifty people milling in and around this diner, none of them too happy to see the Feds on their doorstep.”
“No threat of violence?”
“Oh, no, plenty of that,” he said, amused. “We've had to disarm a half dozen of them so far. The threat of arrest for a variety of crimes seems to be deterring them for now. It's very strange. Most aren't even sure exactly what they're up in arms over, just floating rumors about stuff happening up at the Thatchers'. I think I'm going to get a town meeting together to
explain
to them what's going on. That might be what we need to keep them out of our hair for a bit and give us the time we need to confront Charlotte.”
“You got a place to hold most of the town?”
“I think that church on the north side of town will work. They'll be packed in like sardines, but it should hold them.”
It sounded like as good a plan as they were going to get. “OK, work on that. We'll keep looking around for Rebeccas. If they start to get out of hand again, let me know. I don't want to be caught out on the streets if they start rioting again.”
“Yep. Good luck, Jack. I'll check back soon.”
Jackie stuffed the phone back in her pocket and wiped away the rain that had splattered her face while the hood was pushed back. “He's going to try and get most of the town to the church to explain what's going on, which should give us easier access to places. I want to know where the hell Carson is, though. He wouldn't be putting up with any of this.”
“With Charlotte, would be my guess,” Shelby said. “If the rumors about Ma and Pa Thatcher being dead are true, they'll need a story. Hell, he might be helping her get rid of the bodies.”
“Laur? You around?” she called out in as loud a voice as she dared.
Laurel stepped out of a house a hundred feet down the street. Another Rebecca followed, grasping Laurel's hand. “This is Rebecca,” she said. “Rebecca? This is my friend Jackie. She's going to take us to see Charlotte.”
“Hi, Rebecca,” Jackie replied, pasting the how-wonderful-to-see-you smile back on her face. She offered her hand. “Will you come with me? We're going to see Charlotte soon.”
“You know where she is?” the Rebecca asked.
Jackie looked across the street between a pair of buildings where she could see the dim flicker of light shifting through the rain and the trees around the Thatcher house on the hill. “As a matter of fact, I do. Join me. We'll all go see her together.” After the ghost joined the crowd inside her head, Jackie asked Laurel, “You think you could call out for them, announce we're going to see Charlotte or whatever and see if you can pull them all to one place? We need to conserve some time here.”
“I'll try,” she replied. “Where do we meet?”
“Let's do that furniture place, so we don't have to break into anywhere else.”
“OK. I'll be back soon,” she said.
Jackie turned on her heel and marched back through the rain toward the store's back door. “Let's get out of this damn rain.”
Nick laid a hand on her arm before she had gone two steps. “Jackie? How are you doing with this?”
She shrugged away from his hand. “I feel like a fricking schizophrenic mental patient escaped from the loony bin.”
For once, Shelby had no smartass remark. “I don't even want to try and imagine what it's like in that pretty little head of yours. Let's get inside.”
We'll be there soon, Rebecca,
Jackie said.
There are a couple of others who have missed Charlotte for a long time and would like to see her, too.
They all talked at once and Jackie could not make heads or tails of what any specific one said. If there were another two dozen added to them, Jackie knew it would drive her batty. How long would she be able to maintain things with thirty girls, all answering to the same name, clamoring to talk to Charlie was beyond her. Once back in the store, Jackie called up Maddox.
“Hey, Maddox. Anything going on?”
“Little bit of activity,” he said. “Someone walked over to the mill and then back to the house a couple of times carrying something fairly heavy. Whoever it was, it wasn't our girl. Too tall to be her.”
“Might be the father,” she said, “or that damn reporter.”
“Yeah, I don't know,” Maddox said. “Just be glad when you guys figure this out so I can quit getting my ass rained on here.”
“Sorry, Maddox,” she replied. “I'll buy you a couple of shots when we get back, to warm you up.”
“You getting anywhere?”
“In a manner of speaking, yeah,” she said. “A little luck and we'll be situated in town here within an hour.”
“Awesome, Jack. Kick some ghost ass and let's ice this bloodsucker.”
Jackie hung up, thought about sitting down, but then remained standing. The girls in her head were making her feel jumpy, so sitting still was the last thing she wanted. “Looks like someone is up there at Charlotte's—hauling stuff from the house to the mill.”
“So, mom and dad may still be alive,” Shelby replied.
Who is the bloodsucker?
one of the Rebeccas asked.
“Too dark to see,” Jackie said. “It wasn't Carson though.”
Are you the police?
asked another.
“Shit,” Jackie said. “I, um ... I need something to write on.”
“What?” Nick asked. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” she snapped. “I just need pen and paper for a second.”
Shelby walked over to the sales counter at the back of the showroom. “Think there's some here.” She brought back a notepad with P
EABODY'S
F
INE
F
URNISHINGS
emblazoned across the top and gave it to Jackie, along with a pen.
She wrote down a message without looking at the words and handed it to Nick.
Ghosts are listening in. We have to watch what we say about Charlotte.
Nick nodded and passed it over to Shelby. “All right,” he said.” That might prove difficult with McManus. I'll step away and give him a call.”
“Thanks.” Jackie walked off into the store, walking among the locally crafted furniture. There were a lot of wooden chairs, tables, and benches. On one wall, perched on a pair of long shelves, were a number of dollhouses, which brought a gasp of delight from the one Rebecca.

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