J Duncan - Deadworld

“I’ll want locations of every place you’ve sensed this guy and when.”

“It won’t help you-”

“You know what, Nick?” She’d had it with him. “Quit telling me what we can and can’t do. Not one more word. If you do, I’m arresting you for obstruction. Answer my fucking questions. It’s pretty simple. Let us do our job and quit trying to be a hero.”

The relaxed line of his mouth tightened. “As you wish. Ms. Fontaine and I will continue our search, however.”

She wanted to say no but thought better of it. If there was any truth to what he said, it might be they would be the only ones who could find the perp. “Fine. You will inform us the second you detect him. You will let us know when you are searching and when you stop. You will also let our agents continue to follow you and quit trying to lose them.”

Shelby grinned at Jackie, who returned it with a hard stare. You’re next, Croft girl. We’ll see how much you’re grinning later.

“That’s agreeable,” Nick replied.

Jackie shook her head. “Really. Well, thank you, Mr. Anderson. I’m glad you’ve decided to work with us. Understand you are civilians here, involved in a federal murder investigation. We aren’t partners. Do as you’re told. Stay out of the way when you’re told and, for fuck’s sake, quit trying to hide everything. All you do is turn my suspicions on you, which I still am, by the way. Your story doesn’t ring right with me. If and when I find out you’re bullshitting me, your cozy log cabin here will become a concrete cell.”

“Understood,” Nick said. There was the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Jackie and Laurel gathered what little information Nick had to give and prepared to leave. He walked them to the door, quiet and polite, holding it open for them as they walked out. Laurel stopped on the threshold and smiled at him.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Anderson. We appreciate your cooperation.” He merely nodded, but she reached out and shook his hand before he could move. Her gaze held his for a moment, while both of her hands clasped his. Jackie noticed the hesitation before he replied, the smile he forced upon his mouth.

“Let me know if there’s anything else. You have my number.”

Laurel nodded, and Jackie stepped aside when Laurel quickly moved out of the house. The ashen look said it all. God, no hurling on the guy’s front porch. Please. Nick did not look surprised at all by Laurel’s response.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Anderson.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Jackie turned on her heel and left without looking back. In the car, Laurel stuck her head down between her legs and sucked in deep breaths. Jackie laid a comforting hand on her back. “He felt just like Ms. Fontaine did, didn’t he?”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Did you buy everything in there?”

She sat back up, heaving a big sigh. “Sweet mother, it’s so strong. Some of it. I don’t buy the great-grandfather bit though. I’m convinced he’s the same guy.”

Jackie agreed and pulled out onto the road. “So this blood-feud thing is really a personal attack on Anderson.”

“Think so. Unless of course your split-personality theory is true. It still could be, you know.”

“Maybe. That leaves a lot to be explained though.”

Laurel nodded. “It does.”

“I want to go back to the bank,” Jackie said. “I want to know how the hell the thief got into the vault. What was so strong back there?”

“Nick Anderson.”

“Worse than Fontaine?”

“Yes, but different. He felt… more dead.” She laughed nervously. “That makes no sense, I know.

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

“I don’t know how to adequately explain it, Jackie. It’s like they’re dead. If I closed my eyes and touched either one of them, I’d swear I was touching someone who just died.”

A shiver went down Jackie’s spine. “You don’t need to explain more. Really. When you figure it out tell me, but until-”

Her cell phone rang, and she put it to her ear. “Rutledge.”

“Agent Rutledge, it’s Shelby Fontaine.” Her voice was hushed and hurried.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk. Can you come to my apartment around four?”

“Sure. What’s this about?”

Jackie heard her sigh in background. “Everything. I’m tired of Nick’s bullshit. You need the whole story.”

About fucking time! “We can meet now, Ms. Fontaine. I’m just down the road.”

“No,” she said. “Meet me at four. I’m off to hunt. He’ll be getting the next one soon. Oh. Say hi to Agent Carpenter for me.” The connection abruptly ended.

Jackie stared at the silent phone. “Fuck. I don’t think I like her.”

Laurel laughed. “I do.”

“She could be a killer.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t be likeable.”

“What’s to like? She’s a little diva wannabe.”

“She’s hot and rides a motorcycle.”

Jackie grimaced. “She could be possessed by some evil fricking ghost, for all we know.”

Laurel sagged back in her seat. “Thanks. Ruin my image, why don’t you?”

Jackie felt bad. She had never once heard Laurel comment on someone else’s looks. She had always been so… nonsexual about everyone. “Sorry. Just weird to hear you talk about someone like that, but it’s fine. I comment on cute asses. So can you.”

She was quiet for a long, thoughtful moment. “Thanks, and don’t be sorry. Not your fault I’ve never told you any of this.”

More silence followed, and Jackie felt like squirming in her seat. “So, Matrix girl is your type?”

Laurel shrugged. “More or less. She’s cocky, fit, sarcastic, can kick ass, and is obviously loyal to those she cares about. She’s passionate about things and doesn’t give you any bullshit. There’s a soft side there, too. I think.”

“Jesus Christ. Did you two have a date while I was gone? How do you know all that? She hasn’t said more than three sentences.”

“Skills,” she replied with a knowing grin.

“Oh, bullshit.” Jackie laughed. “She just makes you wet.”

She nodded. “That, too.”

“God! I don’t need to know this.”

Laurel pouted at her. “You’re just jealous.”

“She gets cleared, you can jump all over her. Until then, hands off.”

“Same goes for you and cowboy.”

“What! Oh, don’t even go there.”

“He’s just your type, Jackie, but he’s a suspect, so I understand.”

“You understand nothing,” she said. “I wouldn’t touch Nick Anderson with a ten-foot pole even if he was so clean he squeaked.”

“Yes, you would.”

Jackie felt her face flush. “Fuck you. Being friends with you sucks sometimes.”

Laurel smiled-that friendly, warm, no-worries smile that always made Jackie feel better. “Want me to stop being friends then?”

Jackie snorted. “Nah. I’ll take my chances.”

“Good. Because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

The vault at the bank turned up more questions than answers. Like everything else with the case, nobody seemed clear about anything. From what they could tell, the body had just materialized inside the vault. The employees were as clueless as they were upset. So, having wasted a bulk of the day, they drove to Shelby Fontaine’s apartment, situated inside a renovated industrial warehouse with converted lofts. She apparently had money to burn as well.

“Are you fidgeting?” Jackie let her fist drop to her side and brought the Starbucks cup up to her lips. She glanced at the number on the door of Shelby Fontaine’s apartment and back at Laurel.

“No,” she said firmly. A bit too firmly to be believed. “I’m fine.”