The Dream Machine: Book 6, The Eddie McCloskey Paranormal Mystery Series (The Unearthed) (4 page)

BOOK: The Dream Machine: Book 6, The Eddie McCloskey Paranormal Mystery Series (The Unearthed)
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Six

 

The waiter opened a bottle of white wine for us. Well, for Sumiko. I didn’t drink anymore. I waited for him to finish before I told Sumiko.

“You realize if you divulge what I’m about to tell, I’ll have to kill—”

She smiled. “Oh shut it and just tell me. I’m dying.”

I leaned in and lowered my voice and shared. “Manetti wants me out there ASAP.”

“Manetti?”

I nodded.

“The woman, right?”

I detected a very sour note in her voice. “She has two X chromosomes, yes. Maybe a partial Y also. She’s kind of a hardass.”

Sumiko looked down and ripped her piece of bread in half but did not dip it in the olive oil or eat it.

“I never pegged you for the jealous type,” I said, which was absolutely the damned worst thing to say. I wanted to pull the words back.

“I’m
not
jealous. I just don’t trust them. Look what happened to you last time.”

“Hold on. I went to Oregon on my own, on somebody else’s invitation. They didn’t rope me into that.”

“Don’t you have a job with Stan tomorrow night?” she said.

“It’s a nothing gig. He can do it in his sleep.”

“You’re too important for it, you have to do this other thing for the feds?”

I took a deep breath. Sumiko wouldn’t look me in the eye for longer than a second.

“Hon, what’s the matter?”

“This woman asks for your help, doesn’t tell you anything, and you drop everything to go. It raises questions.”

I smiled and tried to be funny. “
Detective
, should I ask for an attorney before we proceed?”

She forced a smile but I could tell she didn’t find the humor. “Did anything happen between you two?”

Now I could laugh for real. “God no. That woman hated me. She might still. But I helped them out of a jam and they think I can help again. What she told me is intriguing. Most paranormal investigators could go their entire lives never seeing anything like that.”

She still hadn’t eaten her bread. “Nothing happened at all? You two shared a dangerous experience, just like we did.”

“Nothing at all, babe. I swear.” I raised a hand like I was taking the oath on the witness stand. When she didn’t immediately follow-up with a question, I breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner I could get this ring on her finger, the better. We’d never argued once in our time together and I hoped to keep it that way. Life was too short.

I’d been planning to wait till after we ordered, but now I couldn’t hold off any longer. I reached into my pocket and started to bring the box out.

But before I could, Sumiko said, “You didn’t even kiss her?”

“No—”

But that was a lie.

In truth I’d forgotten all about the moment until Sumiko had asked the question. The kiss had meant nothing, but how could I explain that to her?

“We were going to die and I needed to distract her.”

“You
kissed
her?” She sat up stiffly. “You just told me nothing happened.”

“Nothing
did
happen,” I said. “It meant nothing. There was a horde of mentally-deranged people descending on the skating rink. I thought I was going to die. And I needed to get the knockout spray out of her back pocket.”

“So you basically grabbed her ass while you kissed? This gets better and better.” Sumiko’s face was stony now.

“No, babe! It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe this.” She looked away again and rolled her eyes. “And now you’re jet-setting off to see her again at the drop of a hat.”

“Sumiko—”

“Let’s get out of here.” She stood and grabbed her purse and didn’t wait for me to walk to the valet together.

***

Back at the apartment she went to the bedroom to grab her weekend bag.

“Don’t go,” I said.

“Why? You’re leaving tonight, aren’t you?”

“I’ll call her right now and cancel.” I had my phone out.

Sumiko pushed past me. “You know, Eddie, I think I’d better leave.”

“Sweety, wait.”

I followed her into the living room, hoping she’d stop. Praying.

“Maybe moving in together isn’t such a good idea.”

“Sumiko, don’t do this.”

She stopped in front of the door. There were tears in her eyes. “Eddie, now that I think about, things are moving too fast. We’ve only dated for a few months.”

“For six months, seven days, actually.” I folded my arms. I was pissed off, and couldn’t help it. “Don’t do this.”

“I think it’s best if we take some time off…”

Fine, I wanted to say. Go. Get out of here. I’m not the marrying type, anyway. I’m a player. Always have been. I could pick up a woman in an hour if I wanted. Bring her back here and screw her brains out. And repeat. And repeat. I hadn’t done anything like that in years, but it was like riding a bike I figured.

And there was Ana. It would be nice to see her again. She only lived a couple hours away. I wondered what she was up to. There was no hard edge to her, like Sumiko had. Only love and not just a little admiration. Nothing like hero-worship to boost the ego...

Sumiko turned for the door.

“Wait,” I said.

She opened the door.

“Sumiko!”

She closed the door behind her.

Did I even want to get married? Or was I just going through the motions that all people went through, doing the things we were supposed to do. Checking the box for all life’s little projects. Married. House. Kids. Security. Retirement. Florida. Death.

Up until the last few months, I’d never even planned on getting married. I had loved exactly one other woman, but I’d bolloxed that up and even when we were together, I hadn’t thought more than five minutes ahead.

Some people weren’t cut out for marriage. Hell,
a lot
of people weren’t if you believed the divorce statistics. And there was nothing about my past that suggested I had it in me to be deeply committed to another human being for the rest of my life.

For the rest of my life.

“Oh hell.”

***

Sumiko stood in front of the elevator. Though she had to hear me coming—because I’d shouted her name six times—she didn’t look in my direction once.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. I raced the rest of the hallway and stood between the doors.

“Eddie, I want to leave.”

“Don’t go.”

She stepped forward and shoved me.

I wasn’t expecting it. Would have been comical to anybody watching. I was over a foot taller than her.

The shove stumbled me backward, and the doors began to close while Sumiko continually punched the CLOSE button.

Time to go for broke.

I thrust my hand between the doors just before they closed.

“Just let me ask you one thing,” I said, as the doors reopened.

Her exotic brown eyes were fixated on my hand. Her cute, pouty mouth slightly open. Her smooth, golden skin simmered under the soft lighting inside the elevator.

“What is that?” she asked.

I opened my hand, letting her see the box. Almost instinctively, I kneeled, assuming the Proposal Position.

“What are you doing? Oh my God…”

There were tears in those beautiful eyes. Her hand shifted from the CLOSE button to the OPEN button. I was still in the hallway.

“Sumiko, I am yours. Forever. I’d love to be yours. Forever. Will you make my dream come true and marry me?”

“Eddie…” She could barely get it out. “Oh, Eddie…”

“Please say yes.”

“OF COURSE YES!” She reached for the box and opened it.

The elevator doors closed on my wrist.

Seven

 

We celebrated our engagement two and a half times before my phone rang again.

“Agent Manetti, this isn’t the best time,” I said.

Sumiko was giggling and play-hitting me as I kissed her smooth belly.

“Out with your girlfriend?” Manetti asked.

Of course she would know about Sumiko and me. She was a federal agent with a lot of resources at her disposal. I’d been right: they were keeping close tabs on me.

“When are you coming to get me?” I asked.

“A car will be outside of your apartment in five minutes. The driver will identify himself as Smith. You’re to ask him what his mother’s maiden name is. If he doesn’t say Haldeman, get away as quickly as you can.”

I stopped kissing Sumiko’s abs and perked up. “Jesus, Manetti, you expect somebody to be looking for me?”

“You can never be too careful.”

“I’m not even packed.” Or dressed. And, with all the fun Sumiko and I had just had, I could have used a shower too.

“We’ll get clothes for you. But right now we have to move. This thing has some velocity.”

“Okay.” I hung up.

“Are you going now?” Sumiko asked.

I nodded.

She pretend-pouted. It was so damned cute. “Can’t you stay for a little bit longer?”

I laid down on top of her. My body glued to hers. Every naked inch of us touched each other.

“Sorry, Ms. McCloskey, but I’ve got to go.” I kissed her.

She pushed me away. “Who said I’m changing my name? Why don’t you change yours?”

I hadn’t been prepared for this and was left totally speechless.

Then she burst into laughter. “Of course I’ll take your name. And we’re going to have children, Eddie.”

“We are?”

She swatted me. “I’m going to give you beautiful, smart kids.”

Eight

 

It was cold outside. No Indian summer this year. The heat had switched off and they’d piped the cold in immediately.

The car pulled up curbside. It was a nondescript, black sedan with darkened windows and a motor that purred. The passenger window remoted down.

A freshly-shaved driver with a crewcut looked out the window at me. “I’m Smith.”

“What’s your mother’s maiden name?”

“Haldeman.”

Satisfied, and feeling a little cool at playing spy, I got in the car and tossed my bag on the seat beside me. I’d put on a pair of jeans, long-sleeved shirt, jacket, and sneakers and loaded the bag up with more of the same and socks and underwear. I wasn’t going for style points on this trip.

“You buckled?” the driver asked.

Click. “Yep.”

The driver hit the gas and the car zoomed. He smoothed our way into traffic and in the fluid motion of the car I could feel all his training. This guy could get us out of danger without messing up his metrosexual haircut. Reminded me of the other agents I’d come to know in Oregon. Manetti, Riehl, Megan, and Pater. All of them hard, fast, unrelenting, pushing, always pushing, and most of all, competent. Good at whatever they put their minds to. Good people to have at your side in a fight, at the bar, in a meeting, basically wherever. For a guy that had slacked the first two-thirds of his life—yours truly—they were admittedly intimidating.

I checked the time on the dash, already after midnight. I pictured Sumiko curled up in bed, hopefully resting. She slept less than a giraffe. Sleeping, entangled in the sheets, wearing nothing but the ring I’d just given her.

Ah, the ring.

Soon as I saw those amber eyes of hers light up, I knew I’d made the right choice. She was it. I didn’t go in for all that nonsense about fate and soul mates and there being only one perfect match for you—with seven billion people on the planet and counting, you had to like your odds of meeting several somebodies with whom you could be unabashedly yourself and actually be liked for it. What I believed in was love. The world was either cold or impersonal depending on whom you asked, and maybe those were ultimately the same thing, but you could find meaning in all the sound and fury through your passions, your friends, and love. Work had kept me going since I’d become an ex-con, and now I was closing in on the other two.

I slid down in the seat. All the raw sexual energy was dissipating and fatigue was setting in. Long time ago in a galaxy far away, I’d been a night owl. No more.

“So you’re Eddie McCloskey,” the driver said.

I’d been expecting the normal, tight-lipped federal agent, the kind that gave you one word answers and sharp, suspecting looks. Maybe I was in for a rare treat.

“And you’re
not
Smith.”

A faint smile on that surprisingly young face. He couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five, and that made me feel old as hell.

“Heard about you. Heard about you and Oregon.”

“Yeah.” Everybody did.

“Heard about what you did to Manetti and Riehl.”

“Yeah.”

He made some expert maneuvers through Queen Village, taking a couple short cuts that only a local would know, and got onto I-95.

Once he merged, he checked me in the rearview. His eyes were neutral. “Everybody busts their balls about you taking them both down.”

“I was lucky. They were deranged. Perfect storm. Otherwise they had me dead to rights.”

He held the stare in the rearview for another moment, waiting to see if I’d get worried his eyes weren’t on the road. Bullshit posturing, but I played right into it and held his stare.

Finally he looked back at the road. “Modest, too, huh? Surprising.”

I said nothing. All of a sudden, I wished I had the usual laconic federal agent. I didn’t want to talk about Oregon. I’d done all the talking about that place that I ever would.

“Not modest. Honest. I was lucky, guy.”

“Yeah. Lucky. I might be young, but I’ve seen more in the last five years than most see in a lifetime,” he said. “And I know this: luck only gets you so far. At the end of the day, you put both of them down.”

“Look.” I sat up, anger ripping through me. “I had the knockout spray. I used that on Manetti and then I took Riehl on one-on-one.”

“Riehl
is
two guys.”

I grimaced, remembering the fight vividly now. Hundreds of dead and the dying all around us while we squared off in a skating rink, madness gripping both of us.

“I got lucky,” I said again, hoping that would end the conversation.

“Better to be lucky than good, right?” the kid said.

“Where are we headed?”

“You and I are going to an airstrip. I don’t know where you’re going after that.”

“Okay. I’m going to sleep now.”

“Suit yourself.”

An hour later, my door opened and the cold wind rushed into the interior. I came awake sluggishly.

“Where are we?”

“Delaware.”

“Great state if you don’t like taxes.” I handed him my bag and got out of the car.

It was a small airstrip with five small, dark hangars. A couple planes were parked in the distance, looking old but also not much used. The kid had parked at the lit end of the landing strip. He handed me back my bag and headed for the driver’s door.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Somewhere else. Good luck, Eddie McCloskey. Or should I say, I hope your luck hasn’t run out.”

“Hold on, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“The plane will be here soon.”

“Where am I going?”

“I’m not important enough to know that.”

He got in the car and started the engine and drove off. The creepy-crawlies bloomed on my back and I shivered against the hard wind. Now I was wondering if I’d spoken to Manetti at all, or if that had been someone pretending to be her, someone with a big ax to grind. But who? Sean McKenna, the guy that wanted me dead, was in prison for attempted murder. He’d sent someone else to kill me before. Would he try it again? Sure. But how would he know who Manetti was? She was a deep-cover federal agent. Despite all the press Oregon got, her team had been purposely kept out of the papers. No, it couldn’t be Sean McKenna.

All the other significant enemies I’d made were dead. Marty Kindler, the man I’d exposed as a fraud, was still around, but he was more a joke than a nemesis. Besides, our run-in had been a few years ago and this clandestine set-up did not match his style. This was too much brains.

“Eddie.”

I spun around and brought the bag up in front of me. No way in hell it was going to stop a bullet, but you always use what you have. Even nylon.

“Manetti?”

A light in the hangar behind her came on, momentarily blinding me. I shielded my eyes as she made her way over. Agnes Manetti was disarmingly short and blindingly fast. What she lacked in power she made up for in speed, tenacity, and a killer instinct.

Seeing her on the airstrip was like stepping into a time machine. My mind tripped and stumbled and stuttered backwards, all the way back to Oregon, where there was nothing but death and madness in equal measure.

Oregon had only been a year ago, but Manetti was different. It wasn’t the hair: it was pulled up and back like always. Same outfit, too: black, black, and more black. Her jacket flared at her right hip, where she kept one of her pieces. No, it was something else. The hardness around her eyes was still there, the perpetual challenge etched in her face. Maybe it was just the job catching up to her.

As she stopped in front of me and tilted her head to inspect me, I saw the fresh scar on the side of her face. I followed that jagged line of flesh two inches to where the bottom lobe of her ear used to be.

“Cosmetic surgery?” I asked.

“That didn’t take long.”

“What didn’t take long?”

“For you to say something horribly unfunny.”

“I aim to please.” I smiled, actually enjoying her ball-busting. “Good to see you too, Agnes.”

“How’s Sumiko?”

“Really?” I shook my head. “We’re going to do the thing where you ask me questions to show off how much you’ve snooped around in my personal life?”

“Bad habit I picked up from Pater.”

“Where is Patterson?” Her boss, the guy that had enlisted my help in Oregon.

“Somewhere else.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

She smirked, enjoying the smart ass banter. In Oregon she’d bristled when I’d done that. Now that we’d survived that trial by combat, she was okay with it.

“To answer your question, Sumiko is deliriously happy. I just popped the question.”

Manetti was about to say something snarky, I could tell by the mischief in her eyes. But she stopped herself.

“Congratulations, Eddie. That’s great.”

“Agent Manetti, have we turned a corner?”

“We did back in Oregon. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did.” But enough about Oregon. “How are you?”

“Good. Over my beer and your cranberry juice I’ll tell you all about this.” She touched her mangled ear. “It’s a shame. I had to give up modeling.”

Manetti was more pretty than cute, but not much more. Aside from the body, there wasn’t much woman in her. I couldn’t imagine her in a relationship. She was the type that would go home with you and bite your head off when it was over. Some guys dig that. I’m not one of them.

“But you could kick every model’s ass, so that must feel good.”

She smirked.

“Where’s Riehl?”

“He sends his condolences.”

“Really?”

She shook her head. “His only regret is that he won’t get a rematch with you this time. Maybe next time.”

“In that case, there won’t be a next time. I know better than to tempt fate.”

She laughed. “Now that we got this out of the way, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

Manetti turned and motioned at the hangar. Another non-descript black sedan, much like the last one, pulled out from behind the wall and turned its lights on.

“No plane?”

She shook her head. “We don’t have that far to go.”

I laughed. Leave it to the federal government to overcomplicate a simple pick-up and drop-off. “The kid couldn’t bring me to you?”

“Eddie, not many people are allowed where we’re about to go.”

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