Chapter 24
In the dark hours of the morning, Jackie’s phone brought her out of a bathtub full of blood, where two boys continuously dipped their hands into the thick liquid and insisted she drink.
“Do you want to live forever?” they asked in droning unison over and over.
In the doorway, her mother stared in blank-eyed silence, slashed wrists dripping into a dark red stain at her feet.
Jackie sat up in bed, kicking at the covers, and Bickerstaff complained with a disgruntled meow, jumping down to floor with a thud. The glowing numbers on her bedside clock read 4:12 AM.
“Jesus fucking . . .” Jackie grabbed the phone off its stand. The readout told her it was Laurel. “Hey.”
“Sorry, Jackie,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’ve got a little visitor here right now.”
She sat bolt upright, panic gripping her gut. “What? You okay?”
“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s the good sort,” Laurel said.
Sleep was depriving Jackie’s brain of coherent thought. “Good sort of what? What are you talking about?”
“There’s a presence here in my room. Right now.”
Presence. Goddamn ghosts. “Why are you calling me at this horrid hour then?”
“You remember the tarot card I gave to Hauser before we left last night?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“It’s sitting here on my desk.” Her voice was filled with quiet awe and something darker. Fear?
Jackie thought of the mysterious, vanishing penny. “You sure it’s the same one?”
“Of course!” She was irritated. “It turned up in my tarot deck.”
The fog still shrouded Jackie’s brain. “You’re losing me.”
“I was doing a reading for myself,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep. I shuffled my deck, and it was the first card I turned up.”
Okay. Weird, but given what had been going on, Jackie no longer found it out of the ordinary. “This couldn’t wait until morning?”
“It keeps turning up as the top card, Jackie. The inverted empress. I’ve shuffled this deck a dozen times now, and it’s the first card every time. Always inverted.”
“Why is that important?”
“It can mean impending danger, possible death.”
Some things Jackie could just give no credence to, and tarot reading was one of them. “Give me the punch line, Laur. I’m too tired to think.”
“It’s a message, Jackie. Someone is trying to tell me we’re in serious trouble.”
Jackie rubbed at her face with her free hand. Was she really up at four AM for this? “We’re always in danger with cases like this. For Christ’s sake, we’re chasing after vampires.”
“I know, but this is serious,” she said, adamant. “The dead don’t talk like this unless it’s very important.”
“Who would be sending us this kind of message?”
“I don’t know. She’s desperate though, and . . .”
There was silence, long enough that Jackie began to worry. “Laur?”
“Shit. It’s gone now. She’s gone.”
Thank God. “So we need to be extra careful now, I take it?”
Laurel sighed. “Jackie, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad. You need to stop chasing this guy. Nick was right.”
Had she heard that right? What the fuck? “Are you on crack? Did you just hear what you said?”
“I know Goddess-be-damned well what I just said, you stubborn girl!” Anger raged in Jackie’s ear. “We need to turn this case over. Give it to someone else. You can’t keep chasing this guy, Jackie. Please.”
Holy shit. She was totally serious. “Laur . . . It’s just . . . It’s a tarot card, for crying out loud. I can’t bail on a case over a bad tarot reading.”
The voice on the other end was teary. “It’s real, damn you. This is serious.”
“Okay, it’s serious.” Jackie tried to be soothing. She knew Laurel’s sense for this stuff could not be discounted. If there was trouble coming, she was probably right. “I can’t just blow this off to someone else though. He’s killing kids. He has to be stopped.”
“I know that! Let someone else stop him. He’s going to kill you!”
Jackie pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. What had gotten into Laurel? “I’ll be extra careful, okay? Are you all right? You want me to come over?”
There was a pause and then a sigh on the other end. “No. I’m fine, Jackie. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be careful, Laurel. I’m not blowing this off. I know it’s serious,” she said.
“I know. Get some rest. I’m sorry I freaked.”
“I understand. You get some rest—”
“Night, Jackie.”
The phone clicked off before she could reply. Jackie held the phone for a long moment before setting it back in its stand. No point in sleeping now. Her nerves were sufficiently frazzled. A shower and a pot of coffee were in order so she could go over the case notes for the task-force meeting later in the day and maybe figure out how in hell to get Nick Anderson to come in to talk.
If there was any doubt over Laurel’s annoyance, Jackie found herself driving into headquarters by herself. She decided to make peace by stopping at Annabelle’s and getting Laurel’s favorite custard-filled, chocolate-covered doughnut. Jackie got her usual chocolate croissant and latte with two extra shots.
She found Laurel at her desk going over the case file. “I brought you a doughnut.”
Laurel took the bag and peeked inside. “Yum! Thanks.”
“Any more ghostly visits?”
“Nope,” she said. “I gave the card back to Hauser this morning.”
Jackie nodded. “Okay. I’ll be extra careful, Laur. I mean it.”
Laurel looked up at her and smiled. “I know. You better. I know you can’t bail on a case, Jackie. I’m sorry I mentioned it. The whole thing stressed me out.”
“You’ve never been wrong with this shit before. I’ll keep my guard up.” She meant it, too. Laurel’s intuitions and spiritual connections had never panned out false. The FBI hadn’t hired her without cause, so Jackie knew better than to just brush it off. If Laurel said shit was going to hit the fan, they were due for something.
“Thank you,” Laurel said. She took out the doughnut and sank her teeth into it. “Mmmm. Perfect. Think you can get Nick to come in today?”
Jackie sat down in her chair. “I will. Somehow. I wonder if Shelby has told him she spilled the beans yet?”
“Think that will help? He’ll probably be pissed.” She waved Jackie off, the half-eaten doughnut in her hand. “No, not pissed. More like mildly annoyed. I don’t think that man gets pissed.”
“I don’t think he cares enough anymore to get pissed about anything,” Jackie said.
“No, he cares. I think he cares a lot actually. Remember what Shelby said though. You’re dealing with a man who believes he has lost already.”
Jackie sipped at her coffee. “After a century of this shit, I think I would, too.”
“You’d have gotten yourself killed by now,” Laurel stated.
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
She laughed. “Both.”
Jackie took out her phone and looked up Nick’s number. “Might as well get this over with now.”
“Have fun with that,” Laurel said.
She stuck out her tongue while the phone rang.
“Good morning, Agent Rutledge. How can I help you this morning?” The dark timbre of his voice was smooth and calm.
No need for pleasantries. “You can help me by coming in this afternoon to talk to our task force about this case and what we’re actually up against.”
The silence lasted so long Jackie thought the connection had been lost.
“You spoke with Shelby last night.”
“Yes, and, fortunately for us, she was far more forthcoming than you’ve been, Mr. Anderson.” Jackie forced her tone to remain neutral. “We need the story, Nick. We need to know everything that’s going on. We need to know exactly how we can confront this . . . thing.”
His sigh whispered in her ear. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, Agent Rutledge. Even if you do, it won’t help.”
Jackie bit her lip and shook her fist at the phone. She took a deep breath. “Just let us do our jobs. We need your help as much you need ours, Nick. Help us get this guy.”
Again he was silent. “What time is this meeting?”
Yes! Thank God. “Two PM today at our headquarters. You know—”
“I know where it is,” he said. “I want to talk with you beforehand first.”
“We’re talking now, Mr. Anderson.”
“No. In person, away from the office.”
Jackie hesitated. “Why?”
“I want to show you something so you will more fully understand everything before I say anything to the rest of your agents.”
Jackie didn’t like the sound of that. Laurel, who had been listening intently, picked up her ringing phone.
“Is that really necessary, Nick? You can’t just do that here?”
“No,” he said. “How about we meet for lunch? It won’t take very long.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. This wasn’t going to go her way. “Fine. Where and when?”
“Do you know Ernesto’s? Italian place out by—”
“No, but I’ll find it. What time?”
“Noon will work?”
“Yeah. Noon is fine. I’ll see you there.” Jackie clicked off and thrust the phone back into her pocket.
Laurel still spoke on her phone. “Really?” She giggled like a young girl. “That sounds like fun. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.” She laughed then, covering her eyes with her free hand. “No, no. That’s just fine. I’ll see you there. Thank you.”
Laurel closed the phone with a sheepish grin, and Jackie watched in disbelief as her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “Holy shit. You’re blushing again?”
“Shut up!” Laurel snapped back, even more embarrassed. “I’m meeting Shelby for lunch. She wants to show me something. She agreed to come to the meeting.”
“What?” Jackie wondered, already suspicious. She trusted Shelby about as far as she could throw her, and considering the woman could probably kick her ass, that was not very far.
“She didn’t say,” Laurel answered cryptically. “Just that only I would be able to understand.”
“Yeah, right. I have a pretty good idea what she wants to show you.”
“Jealous?”
“Hardly,” Jackie said a little more quickly than she would have liked. “I don’t trust her. I wonder if those two were together? Nick just asked to show me something as well.”
“She wants to help us, Jackie.”
“I don’t like this, whatever it is. Maybe we should all meet together.”
Laurel laughed. “You
are
jealous.” She stood up and kissed Jackie on the cheek. “It’s so cute.”
Jackie didn’t quite know how to respond. “You better call me as soon as you’re done. I want to know what she has to say.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“I mean it, damnit.” It was sad. She almost did feel like a mother at the moment. “Seriously. You need to be careful with her.”
“And you don’t?”
“I can handle the Nicks of the world,” she said. “Shelby Fontaine is a whole other animal.”
“Jackie, I don’t think there are any other Nicks of the world.”
“You know what I mean. Watch yourself is all I’m saying. I’m still not convinced they aren’t trying to put us off the trail somehow.”
Laurel’s grin faded to a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, I will. I think you can trust them.”
“And we both know where I stand on that,” she snapped back. “I’m going to let Belgerman know what we’re doing just in case some shit goes down we’re not expecting.”
“Quit being paranoid.”
Jackie got up, pointing a finger at Laurel. “It’s my job.”
Her voice followed Jackie down the corridor. “And you do it so well.”
Chapter 25
Ernesto’s was a quaint little restaurant tucked into the middle of a row of 1920s brick storefronts. One of those local eateries that had likely been in the neighborhood for forty or fifty years, where the owners knew 90 percent of the people who came in to eat. Not the sort of place one would expect a wealthy, blood-drinking PI to frequent, but, then, what was expected from them? Jackie stared in through the front glass window for a moment, seeing only her tousle-haired reflection. Rain pattered on the awning overhead and dripped behind her onto the sidewalk. The dull, gray backdrop matched her complexion all too well. She had looked better.
And I am worried about this because?
She shook her head and stepped into cool darkness, surrounded immediately by the soft sounds of Italian opera. Old black-and-white photos from Italy and Sicily decorated the walls, and pristine white tablecloths dotted the landscape before her. It was not so neighborhood as Jackie had suspected. It was more the romantic-dinner-for-two kind of eatery. For a moment, she pondered spinning on her heel and walking back to her car.
“Ah! You must be the lady Mr. Nick is having lunch with, yes?”
A thick-mustached, portly Italian man with a graying fringe of hair ringing his head stepped out of the kitchen area, clasping his hands together like he was entirely too happy see her. Mr. Nick? So he was a regular.
“Yes, I’m supposed to meet him here.” Old Mr. Ernesto looked far too under the impression of this being some kind of date.
“Excellent, excellent! Follow me, please,” he said with a wave of his hand. He dropped back in step with Jackie. “Mr. Nick did not say you were so beautiful a lady. The man needs a good woman.” He flashed a big, mischievous grin at her and winked.
Lovely. Uncle Guido was friends with the vampire.
At the far back end of the restaurant, next to an open pair of French doors that stepped out onto a small patio with a few more tables, sat Nick Anderson, a faint smile on his face as they approached.
“Hello, Agent Rutledge,” he said, standing up as Ernesto brought her to the table. Even with the glare from the doors, his eyes had that soft, eerie glow about them.
“Mr. Anderson,” Jackie said, nodding curtly and seating herself in the chair Ernesto had pulled out for her.
Nick seated himself. “Two espressos please, Ernesto.”
“Right away, Mr. Nick.” He gave a quick bow and walked briskly away.
Jackie stared at his implacable mouth in order to avoid his eyes. It looked soft, relaxed. No annoyance or tension there. She realized hers was drawn tight. “I didn’t ask for coffee.”
“You didn’t want any?” The question was stated simply enough, but that slight quirk at the corner of his mouth flared with sarcasm. “You strike me as a die-hard coffee person, Ms. Rutledge.”
“Are we done with the small talk now?” she snipped back.
Nick sat up, folding his hands on the table. “Sure. We can get right to it then.”
“Great. Let’s,” Jackie began, meeting his eerie gaze for at least a second and a half. She got interrupted, however, by the bubbly voice of the waitress bringing their coffee.
Nick smiled at the woman, something Jackie could not recall his mouth ever doing to this point, and for just a moment, the tired, stern man vanished into something warm and caring. “Thank you, Mia. It’s good to see you.”
“You’ve not been here in months, Nicholas,” she said in a motherly tone. “And you bring this lovely woman with you, whom you’ve not even been polite enough to introduce to me.”
Nick chuckled softly. “It’s a business lunch, Mia. Have no fear. If I bring a date, I’ll call you personally ahead of time so you can make all the necessary preparations.”
“Bah,” she said, waving him off. “Ernesto foolishly implied otherwise. So sad. Perhaps you can make it both, eh?” She winked at Nick and gave Jackie the same mischievous grin Ernesto had.
Jackie gave a halfhearted smile in return. “Really, it’s just business.”
She leaned over and laid a conspiratorial hand on Jackie’s shoulder. “He’s a good man,” she whispered. “Very good catch, and I see the way he looks at you. He likes you.” With a little squeeze, Mia stood back up and turned to Nick. “So, Nicholas. What shall you two be having today?”
“Honestly,” Jackie said, “I’m not really hungry.”
“Surprise us, Mia. Something . . .” Nick looked back at Jackie for a moment, studying her intently. “Something seafood, I think.”
Jackie watched Mia walk away, still trying to process the interchange that had just taken place. “What was that? They talk like you own the place.”
“I do,” he replied, obviously pleased that something had come up she was unaware of.
“Seriously. You own an Italian restaurant?” Why had it not shown up in their profile of him? “And what was the deal there with Mama Mia?”
“I bought the place from Ernesto’s father about eighteen years ago. He was a friend of mine and about to lose the place, so I helped him out.”
“And that other bullshit?” Jackie demanded. “You set them up for all that just to amuse me?”
The humorous smirk faded. “No, Ms. Rutledge. Mia is the motherly sort, and it’s her way of showing she cares, that’s all. I’ll apologize if you were offended by the implications.”
Heat rose up in her cheeks. Shit, shit, shit. Embarrassment was the last thing she needed. “No, no. That’s fine. I just don’t want you getting any ideas from them, that’s all.”
“I don’t date, so you’re safe.”
“Is that because you’re old enough to be most women’s great-great-great-grandfather?”
He paused for a second, espresso cup poised at his lips, and then nodded. “So you believe the evidence now?”
“To be honest, I’m still on the fence about what I believe.” She flicked her gaze back up to his and found him watching her, unblinking. “And would you quit with the staring already? It’s fucking rude.”
He sat back, surprised at himself. “Oh. I apologize. It’s habit, watching for subtle changes of behavior and inflection. Easier to see what is going on with a person.”
“And what is going on with me, Mr. PI?”
The stare came back, and Jackie forced herself to defiantly return the look, feeling her guts begin to squirm like a bucket of angry worms. “This case is stressing you out beyond what you’re used to, but you also have personal matters that are making this case even more difficult.”
Jackie bit off her retort. She wanted him to come back with her to the office, not start a fight. “That’s some awfully big assumptions just from looking.”
Nick shrugged. “Lots of practice.”
“There’s more to it than that.” She picked up the espresso cup and downed the strong, bittersweet liquid in one gulp to hide her shaking hand. She wished Laurel was with her now to help her navigate this supernatural no-man’s land she found herself in. She was supposed to be the cool one under fire. “Tell me, Nick. How often do you drink that fake-blood shit your company makes?”
The relaxed mouth creased into annoyance. “What else did Shelby tell you?”
“Enough.”
“And there’s nothing I can say to convince you to stay away, is there, Jackie?”
The personal note sent a pang through her. Was that a jab? A dare? A warning? “Not in my nature to just let a case slide, Mr. Anderson. Especially when kids are being murdered.”
“Even if it gets you or your partner killed?”
Jackie folded her arms on the table and leaned toward him. “That a threat, Nick?”
He started to say something and then apparently thought better of it. “No. I just don’t believe you, Ms. Carpenter, or the FBI are prepared to deal with this killer.”
“It’s not your place to make those kinds of presumptions. It’s our case now. Cooperate or get out of the way. I’d prefer to do it without tossing your ass in jail. Unless, of course, it’s supposed to be there.”
Mia returned at that moment, a curious expression on her face, her tray loaded with salads and a fresh loaf of bread. A subtle look from Nick was all it took to send her away without a word. “I’ve been chasing this guy for a long time. You honestly don’t have any idea what you’re up against.”
“Why don’t you show me then, Nick? Come in and show the team,” she demanded, finally fed up with his martyr routine. “You think it’s even possible for me to just let the case go? It freaking you out ’cause I’m a girl? That rub your old-school sheriff sense of justice the wrong way? This is a federal case now. You need to leave it alone unless we say otherwise. If we need your assistance in tracking him down, then fine, but if I find you interfering in our case whatsoever, I will throw you in jail faster than you can blink. Can I make it any plainer to you?” She really wanted to reach over and shake him, slap him upside the head, but part of her was afraid of what he might be able to do.
Nick sighed and took a bite of his salad, chewing in silence. When he swallowed and drank down some water, he finally answered. “If you get too close to him, if your partner is able to home in on him or track him down, and you threaten to disrupt his plans, he’ll kill you and anyone else who gets in his way.”
“Then explain it to me. Tell me what we’re up against. What can Cornelius Drake do that makes him so unstoppable, because he surely isn’t going to just sweep in and suck all of us dry, now, is he? Is he going to hypnotize us all? Let us do our job, damnit. Catching killers is what I’m good at.”
“And I don’t doubt that for a moment,” he said, sounding surprisingly sincere, “but I don’t want your blood on my hands if you die trying to get this guy.”
Guilt. Jackie sensed it was a major theme for Nick. His past overflowed with dead bodies. “That’s sweet, really, but you’ve had your chances with this guy and not been able to catch him. Things have changed a lot in the past . . . decades.”
“Technology can’t really contend with this,” he countered.
“Guys like you, you mean?”
He paused so long she thought he might not answer. “Yes, Ms. Rutledge, guys like me.”
“I could have you locked up in a psyche ward for an admission like that, you know.”
“And you will never find Drake, and he may just kill a bunch of you to get to me.”
“What is he, the Terminator?”
Nick’s smile held no amusement. “Worse in some ways. Look, if I show you something, will you seriously reconsider pursuing this guy?”
“Going to show me your fangs, Nick?” She wiped at the smear of butter at the corner of her mouth and tossed the napkin on the table. “I won’t agree to anything. I’ll consider anything you have to say or show me that is pertinent to the case. If this doesn’t change my mind, will you come in this afternoon to speak with our task force?”
“Spoken like a true lawman.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, bemused. He reached into the coat lying on the chair beside him and pulled out a small case. “I’ll agree to those terms.”
“What is that?”
He held it out to her. “A contact-lens case.”
Ah, so the freaky eyes were fake after all. “I knew you must be wearing something,” she said while he removed one, and then the other lens, putting them into the solution-filled cups. “Let me tell you, those contacts give you messed-up eyes, Nick. They weird people out, but what’s this got . . .”
Her sentence trailed off as Nick looked up and met her gaze, crystal-blue eyes, deep and glowing with no iris at all. They were just solid, pulsing blue, within which murky gray tendrils swirled around.
“Look,” he said, a finger pointing up at his eyes. “Look in here and tell me what you see.”
“What the fuck?” They were downright disturbing and oddly compelling. How could he have no iris?
“Please, Jackie. If you want to understand the danger you’re in, just look. It won’t hurt. Trust me.”
She leaned forward, staring at him, and there was something in there, moving, ebbing, and pulsing like a heartbeat. The beat began to fill her head, soothing, calming. Fear washed away in the cool, blue waters of his eyes, so deep one could easily drown in them, sinking away into dark and blissful nothing. Part of her realized what was happening. The word
hypnosis
ricocheted around in the far recesses of her brain, but she could not latch on to it. The thought swam away in the cool flood of his gaze. Jackie sagged back in her chair. “That’s messed up.”
“What is? Me? You? This case?”
His eyes looked right into her—cold, intense water that filled up every part of her, seeping into her bones, into the deepest parts of her soul. The layers of her just washed away, exposed by that pulsing blue light, until even those bottom layers of muck that Jackie avoided treading in were exposed to his willful stare. He could see it all, and Jackie offered it up to him with eager hands, unable to hold back. Some part of her screamed, filled with terror that he could just reach in and open that Pandora’s Box of nightmares, blood, and death, that releasing its contents could consume them, destroy them in the blink of an eye. The other part of her was sure he held the answers to all her needs, that he could simply cleanse her soul of the blight upon it with a wave of his hands.
He did nothing, however. He acted as little more than a tourist on safari in unknown lands. There was no judgment, no accusations, no blame, just the sense of knowing. He had opened a door into her most private self, or, worse, Jackie had opened it and invited him right in, like a best friend perfectly at ease knowing all the good and the bad.
“Everything is messed up,” she said, aware of the words, but unaware of where they were coming from. “This case is freaking me out; my partner, Laurel, just came out of the closet, we had a big fight because . . . I . . . I drink too much. I fuck guys I can’t even remember the next day. Hell, I don’t even like men very much.”
“Why is that, Jackie? They treat you badly in the past? Are you having feelings for Laurel?” His voice held the deepest sincerity, a father’s concern for his daughter, or one lover for another.
“Laurel?” She laughed, and the words just kept bubbling up out of her, unbidden. “No. I love her to death but, well, no. She was in love with me, and it makes me sad I have been so oblivious to it, like she is this whole different person I didn’t even realize. Guys, on the other hand.” She waved a finger at Nick. “I’ll tell you some horror stories there. Can’t trust them for shit. They all secretly hate women, you know? Think they are dumber, less than human. They killed her, just beat her down until she gave in, and felt like she didn’t even deserve to live anymore.”