The Vengeful Dead (11 page)

“She came over to my apartment last night,” Jackie said. “We had a decent talk, I think. Hopefully she won’t be too upset.”

He gave Jackie a wry smile. “Tillie doesn’t get upset. She gets back at you in other ways.”

“No kidding.” Jackie chuckled nervously. “That woman scares the hell out of me.”

“Really?” Belgerman walked around and sat down at his desk. “She’s one of kindest, most intuitive people I’ve ever met. She’s an amazing woman.”

“It’s that intuitive part. She sees right through everything. It’s freaky.”

“Makes her very good at her job, Jackie.”

“Too good,” she said.

“This doesn’t excuse you from your weekly visits. I fully expect you to comply with your arrangements with her.”

Jackie sighed. “I know. I will.”

“I mean it, Jackie,” he said, assuming that fatherly tone once again. “You need her right now. Losing a partner, especially one as close as you two were, hits harder than you realize.”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Jackie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. He was on board with all of this, so he might as well hear it all. “I see her sometimes. Laurel, I mean.”

Belgerman’s brows arched with surprise. “Her ghost? You’ve seen her ghost?”

Jackie nodded. “A couple of times. We’ve talked.”

“I see.” He pondered this information for a moment. Jackie couldn’t tell if he liked that information or not. Maybe that was one step too far. Hearing spirits was one thing, but talking to your dead partner was stepping too far over the crazy line. “Is that making things easier or harder for you?”

She thought about that for a moment. “Both, I guess.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. “You won’t be the lead on this case by the way. Pernetti is handling this one, and we’re working closely with Gang Enforcement.”

Jackie’s heart sunk a bit. “Understood. I’ll . . . manage.”

He laughed at her deflated expression. “No choice, Jackie. You can opt out if you want.”

“Oh, no, no. I’ll deal.” Taking orders from Pernetti was going to really stick in her craw. It was minor compared to the triumph of actually being able to work again. She almost didn’t care what she did.

“And now you can go deal with your new partner,” Belgerman said, waving her toward the door. “You didn’t exactly get off to the best start.”

“Does he know anything about the weird shit we’ve dealt with around here?”

“No. I want him to get settled in first. I’m sure he’s heard some vague information about the Drake case given that he’s got the job, but unless someone has broken my gag order, he knows nothing specific.”

“Great. Hope he’s open-minded.”

“One of the reasons I brought him in,” he said. “You can fill him in when you see fit. If you think he’s ready.”

“And what am I supposed to tell him about why I’m back?”

“Use your best judgment on that. With Anderson on consult, though, you should probably let him in on things pretty quick.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “You see the absurd irony here, don’t you? I get to be the weird psychic agent.”

“Yes,” he replied. “Try not to punch anyone who makes fun of you, Jackie.”

She bit off the snappy retort. He knew her too well. “I’ll make every effort, sir.”

Belgerman laughed. “Of course. Go. There’s a briefing this afternoon if you’re ready for it.”

Jackie opened the door. “Thank you so much. You’ve saved my life.”

He was already on the phone. “Is the doctor in?” He waved and Jackie closed the door.

Chapter 14

Jackie stood in the aisle between her desk and what was formerly Laurel’s, her arms folded across her chest, and the fingers of one hand drumming absently against her arm. Ryan McManus looked up from where he was reconnecting his computer, a questioning expression on his baby-soft face.

“McManus,” she said, “I’m sorry I freaked out on you earlier. It was uncalled for.”

He grinned and waved her off. “No complaints. This desk is better than the old one. You going to retire it or something?”

For a second she thought he was being sarcastic, but then realized it was just innocent humor. “I don’t know. It was stupid. It’s just a damn desk.”

“A very meaningful desk,” he said. “I feel bad. It would have been good for them to tell you I was starting today. So, when are you due back? I was told it would be a couple of weeks.”

Jackie stepped over to her desk and sat down. He sounded like a nice enough guy. Young too. She hoped he was older than he looked. “Actually, I’m sort of back now. I’m going to be assisting on one case until I’m back full time.”

He appeared confused by this. “Really? It’s a special case?”

How much to tell him? Jackie decided to wait. “It might be. We need to get up to speed on it quickly though, and I’d like to read through your profile, ask a few questions, get a feel for my . . . new partner.” The words stuck in her mouth like a foreign language.

McManus laughed. “Hope I’m not as bad as you make it sound. I’m excited to be in a homicide unit now.”

“Not bad. Sorry, didn’t mean to make it sound that way. Laur was the only partner I’ve had since joining the Bureau.”

He nodded. “That’s rough. I’ve heard nothing but great things about her. I’ll try to live up to her legacy.”

If you’re half of what she was, I’ll consider myself lucky.
“Don’t. Laurel was unique. Just try to be a damn good fed. That’s all I want.”

“Works for me,” he said. “Anything comes up in my profile, just ask. I need to get this computer back on so I can get back to work.”

Jackie flipped open the file she had set on her desk and began to read the vitals on Ryan McManus.

Born and raised outside of Philadelphia, Ryan McManus was apparently a typical, working-class, Irish Catholic kid. Jackie saw that and immediately wondered how he would handle the notion of vampires and ghosts. She didn’t need a wooden-stake–wielding partner. He was surprisingly older than her at thirty-five. He could have passed for twenty-one. A cop at twenty-two, married at twenty-three, and a daughter at twenty-four. He had an eleven-year-old kid, which accounted for the picture on his desk. It was just him and his daughter in the picture, however, which explained the divorced at twenty-nine. Four years of Gang Enforcement as a cop in Philly and then recruited into the FBI for the same. He had moved out to the San Francisco office shortly after his divorce. Jackie was curious about that, but that sort of question could wait. He had been trying to get a Homicide job for the past four years.

He had training as a hostage negotiator, was an excellent marksman, and had been involved with law enforcement softball teams.

“Sox or Cubs?” she asked.

“What?”

“Sox or Cubs? Which is your favorite?”

“Um . . . I’m a Phillies fan,” he said.

Jackie shook her head. “You’re in Chicago now. You have to pick one.”

“Do I get bonus points for the right one?”

“No, but you get to be a loser if you pick wrong.”

He laughed. “In that case, Sox.”

“Good choice. You can still be my partner.”

On the other side of her cubicle, Denny, the team’s scene photographer, stood up. “What are you doing here, Jack? They let you back already?”

“What do you mean, already? I’ve been gone two weeks.”

He grinned at her. “I know. I was kind of getting used to the quiet time.”

“Fuck you, Den. I know you missed me.”

“I did, actually,” he said, abruptly serious. “How you been doing?”

Jackie shrugged. “Been better. Just glad to be here. I was going stir crazy at home.”

“You’re back full time then?”

“No, just for this new case,” she replied.

“Oh? Something going on with it I don’t know about? You dig up something new?”

Jackie glanced over at McManus who was listening with interest. “I’ll put it this way. Special Investigations is definitely helping with this one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shit. It’s worse than it looks then. Great. Thanks for ruining a perfectly good morning, Jack.” He sat back down, muttering to himself.

Jackie turned back to find McManus staring at her. “Special Investigations?”

“They helped us solve the Drake case,” she said, hoping he would leave it at that for now.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded, obviously pondering more questions. “People have been oddly silent on that one around here.”

“And with good reason,” she said. “There’s a gag order on it.”

His mouth formed an
O
of surprise. “That bad?”

“That strange.”

“OK, now I’m really curious. Am I one of the ‘need to know’ people?”

Jackie studied him for a moment. He would need to know. The big question was whether and how he handled it. It wasn’t a conversation she relished having, but it would be the one deciding factor in how well they might get along as partners.

“Yeah, you are,” Jackie replied. “And I’ll tell you right now, how you respond will tell me if we can be partners or not.”

“Seriously?” He appeared shocked by the notion that their relationship might hinge on such a specific thing.

“Dead serious.” Jackie grabbed her coat and stood up. “Let’s go for a ride. I need a coffee and I don’t need Denny eavesdropping on us.”

“I heard that!” Denny said.

“Go do something useful.”

“Yeah, yeah. So glad you’re back. Really, I am.”

Jackie grinned. She certainly was. It felt really damn good in fact. “Come on, McManus. Let’s go see how open-minded you really are.”

Denny’s voice followed them out. “Good luck with that, McManus.”

Once in her Durango, Jackie took them out toward Annabelle’s. “Before I say anything, you realize that you are bound by the gag order on this, too. Talk to anyone about it and you’re gone.”

“I assumed as much,” he said.

Jackie took a deep breath. “What do you know about my former partner?”

McManus shrugged a shoulder. “Almost nothing. You came out of training together, were partnered up immediately, and worked together your entire time in the Bureau. She was kidnapped and murdered by a guy named Cornelius Drake. That’s pretty much it.”

The image of Laurel in the warehouse, glowing beneath the fluorescent lamp, her lifeless arm dangling off the table flared up in Jackie’s mind. It was the first time in days she had recalled that image.

Jackie slammed on the brakes to avoid running a red light. “Sorry. Distracted.”

McManus’s hand came off the dash. “No problem. That stuff is still pretty fresh. I apologize.”

She relaxed her grip on the wheel, gave him a faint smile. “Don’t. I have to be able to deal with it. You won’t be the only one bringing it up.” The light turned, and Jackie drove down the block and into the driveway for Annabelle’s tiny parking lot. “This . . . this was our favorite place for coffee and food.” She suddenly felt choked up and had to force the lump in her throat back down. Maybe Annabelle’s wasn’t a good idea after all.

After a moment of silence, McManus opened his door. “What do you want? It’s on me. New guy pays.”

“Tell them the coffee is for Jack, and I want a chocolate croissant.”

He nodded and headed in. Jackie watched him, her stomach unsettled and jittery at the sight. She wiped at her watering eyes and sniffed. “For fuck’s sake. I’m not going to cry. Not going to.” Several deep, slow breaths and the moment passed. “Suck it up, Rutledge.” No one would want a partner who was going to break down at every reminder of her old partner.

After five minutes, McManus returned. He handed Jackie the bag and her coffee. “That’s the blackest coffee I’ve ever seen.”

Jackie took a sip and sighed. Two weeks was far too long. “It’s liquid heaven. What are you drinking?”

“Plain old latte,” he said. “I got a bagel for later.”

She gave him an
are you kidding me
look. “You don’t come to Annabelle’s for bagels. That’s a total waste of money.”

“I like bagels,” he said and peered into his bag. “They look good at least.”

Jackie shook her head. “Waste.” Back out on the street, she continued their conversation. “Laurel had special gifts. She was psychic.”

McManus nearly spit out his coffee. “For real? What could she do?”

“Sense and communicate with the dead,” she replied. “She could tell if a vic’s ghost was still at a crime scene. A few times she actually contacted them. We solved a couple of cases because of her abilities.”

“Wow. The Bureau is cool with that?”

“Belgerman is very open-minded about the paranormal. He has to be.”

“You guys deal with a lot of ghosts?”

“No, but it does come up,” she said. “You OK with that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it before. You actually saw her communicate with the dead?”

“You think I’d bullshit you on something like that, McManus?” He had skeptic written all over him. Give it lip service but won’t believe until he sees.

“Hey. No,” he said. “It’s just . . . you don’t see that in the Bureau.”

“Laurel was the only active agent I know of who did this kind of work. It was the group from Special Investigations that helped us stop Drake. I need to know though. What information do you have on the Drake case?”

“Just what I got in the file. Serial killer who drained blood from his victims. He was setting up another guy for the crimes and apparently leaving very little evidence at the scene. He escaped mysteriously after Agent Carpenter’s death and again when you trapped him in a funeral home that was set on fire. Somehow you managed to catch him out at the home of the setup guy, where he died at the scene.”

The newspaper version, in other words. Jackie frowned. This was not going to be easy. “You’re a skeptic, aren’t you, McManus?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t really believe what I’m telling you.”

“Did I say that?” He sounded offended but his answer confirmed it.

“You didn’t have to. I was, too, at first,” Jackie said. “But I need you to believe me. We won’t be able to work together if you can’t trust what I have to say, crazy as it may sound.”

“Your record speaks well enough,” he replied. “I was told you’re a no-bullshit sort of agent.”

She had to laugh at the absurdity of what she was about to say. “Well, what I’m going to tell you is going to sound like the biggest pile of bullshit you’ve ever heard.”

“I’m all ears,” he said. “I might be skeptical, but I’m open-minded. I’ve seen a lot of whacked-out shit in my years here.”

“Not like this. None of this goes beyond this car. You want to bail after I tell you, that’s your prerogative and I wouldn’t blame you.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “They told me this was a unique assignment. I came for the challenge, and I heard Belgerman is one of the best leaders in the Bureau.”

Jackie nodded. No doubt there. “He is.” She took a deep breath and ate a bite of her croissant for courage. Chocolate was the wonder of all foods. “You’re gagged on this, remember.”

McManus laughed. “Not a word. Christ. How bad can it be?”

“You believe in vampires, McManus?”

“What do you mean?” He brought the coffee cup at his lips back down. “Like real, blood-sucking, coffin-sleeping vampires?”

“Yes,” she said, “but they don’t sleep in coffins.”

“The Drake guy?” He looked at her in disbelief. “He was a vampire?”

“Yes,” she said. She decided to leave out the other vampires for the moment. One step at a time. She didn’t want to overload McManus’s skeptical brain.

“Holy shit. You’re serious.”

“Completely. He could do things . . .” Jackie had to wipe the vision of the warehouse from her mind again before continuing. “Things that no normal human could do.”

McManus stared at her, clearly trying to determine if she was bullshitting him or not. He turned away and looked out at the passing traffic. “I’m going to guess it isn’t turning into a bat.”

“You’re a believer in the afterlife, McManus?”

“Like heaven and hell?” He chuckled. “What good Irish Catholic doesn’t?”

“What do you think is on the other side?” He looked at her, perplexed. “When you die. What do you think happens when you die?”

He sat back in his seat, clearly unsure how to answer the question. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

They came to a stoplight and Jackie laid her forehead against the steering wheel. “Fuck. I really don’t want to be doing this.”

“What?” McManus sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Jackie sat back up, flinging her arms wide. “This. This whole damn partner bullshit. No offense to you. You seem like a good guy, but I really . . .” She put her hands back on the wheel and continued on. “It just sucks, OK? I don’t want a new partner.”

McManus sat in silence, staring straight ahead. After a couple of blocks he nodded, as though finally agreeing with himself about something. “I’m a good partner, Jack.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“I’m not Agent Carpenter,” he said. “I can’t be and I’m not going to try to be. I’m just Ryan McManus, an Irish-Catholic boy from Philly who believes in bringing a little more justice to this world. I’ll always have your back and expect you to have mine. We don’t have to be buddies either, as long as there’s respect going both ways. So,” he said and turned to stare at her with intense, blue eyes, “give me a chance here.”

She couldn’t argue with that. There was no choice really. Belgerman wouldn’t let her get away with saying no to Ryan McManus. Regardless, he sounded sincere. Her gut said this was a decent agent, but decent or not, if he could not handle the supernatural then they would have problems.

“Do you actually believe in ghosts, Ryan?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Um, yeah. I guess I do.”