J Duncan - Deadworld

He reached up to slap her but caught himself at the last moment. His heart pounded against the tip of her finger, angry and embarrassed. Shelby looked at him, her face flushed with indignation, her mouth as petulant as ever.

She stared at him and then finally drew back, smiling. “Had your chance there, hon. For a second there, you could have had me.”

“I could never hit you, Shel, even if I wanted to.”

“You know, sometimes control is the last thing you need to exercise.”

“What is that supposed to mean?

She rolled her eyes. “Christ, you’re such a guy sometimes. It means go with your gut and your heart. Fly in the face of the odds. Do it because it’s far more glorious to go out with your guns blazing, even if you know you’re dead. You let Drake beat the life out of you, Nick. You let him grind you down, and now you’re letting him gloat over it.”

She had been walking in a slow circle around the dining room table, clenching and unclenching her fists. Now she stopped and looked hard at him, with something of sympathy perhaps in her eyes. Nick was wincing before the words even came out of her mouth.

“You think Gwen would be happy if you just gave up and crossed over? Because, really, that’s what you’re doing. You gave up back in ’70. I just didn’t realize until now.”

The words sat Nick back down on the bar stool. Shelby could just as easily have sucker punched him in the gut. “That’s not a fair thing to say.”

She shrugged. “Truth is still the truth. Don’t dishonor her memory by just walking off into the fucking sunset.”

Nick gritted his teeth. Now he really did want to hit her. “You know what?”

“Hit me if you want to. I can certainly take it. Maybe it’ll even make you feel better. Hell, hit me hard enough, maybe I’ll be inspired to give back a little.” She gave him one of her mock, impish grins. “But, really, you blew your chance the last time. We could have been fucking like bunnies for old time’s sake right here on the table if you’d followed through the first time.”

“That’s not what I want,” he said, the anger dissipating. Painful as it was to hear, she was right. He could never face Gwen on the other side, if she still lingered there for him. Maybe she had made peace with it after all these years and moved on, but he doubted it. No, she would be there, and the notion of greeting her as a failure terrified him beyond measure.

Shelby laughed. “Liar. You’d just feel too guilty over it anyway. Better you direct that energy at someone who really needs it.”

“What, Agent Rutledge again? You need to get over yourself with that, Shel. I feel bad for her. She took everything… hard.”

Shelby patted him on the cheek. “The fact that you even think that is what I meant confirms it. And I know she took it hard. I sent Reg to keep an eye on her.”

“You did?”

“Did you see her?”

“Well, yeah, but nobody takes the death of a partner very well.” He had lost his share, but in light of his family going down before his eyes, the impact got diffused a bit.

“You know, for being one hundred and eighty years old, and fairly enlightened by most standards, you can be denser than rock sometimes.” Shelby chuckled and went to the fridge for another beer. “She didn’t just take it hard. It crushed her, Nick. I saw the look in her eyes, or lack thereof, I should say. The poor girl’s life force just snuffed out like a candle in the wind.”

It was a feeling he could relate to far too well. There had been some pretty rough low spots in his life. “You think she could be suicidal?”

Shelby wrapped her finger around the bottle cap and pulled it off, taking another long draught of beer. “Maybe. Doesn’t hurt to be safe. Besides, I’m thinking Laurel may try to contact her.”

“Why so soon?”

“Because she’s strong, Nick, and she has seen the other side. She’s not afraid of it, or at least she’s not so overwhelmed by the Deadworld to need much time to get used to things there.”

“You don’t think she’ll move on?”

Her bark of laughter was sharp and held a hint of jealousy. “As long as Jackie is alive, Laurel is one of the lingering dead, and she’s familiar with things, Nick. She’ll figure out how to get around soon enough, and before long, Jackie will get contacted. I just hope she’s stable when it happens, because… well, it might be bad.”

“Were the two of them intimate?”

“Hardly. Agent Rutledge is more afraid of intimacy than she is of goddamned Drake.”

“Oh.” The statement baffled Nick. “You don’t even know her.”

“You could see it easily enough if you knew how to look,” Shelby said. “Regardless, Jackie had more than love for Laurel. I think they were more married than most married couples, if you know what I mean.”

Nick nodded. He did. “Jackie feels like half a person now.”

Shelby shook her head. “No, she feels like a nonperson now because she’s afraid to look at the half that’s left and find there’s nothing there.”

Nick finished off his beer and shook his head. “So weren’t you a little worried about how she might take you and Laurel?”

Shelby put the beer down on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Means Reggie told me you two were having a moment before Drake kidnapped her, that’s all. I don’t mind, really, but what were you thinking, getting involved with her in the middle of this case?”

“Reggie!” Shelby stomped her foot. “The little shit. I’ll wring his neck.”

“You couldn’t wait?” The point was moot now, but the chance to poke back at her even just a little was too hard to pass up.

“Unlike you, cowboy,” Shelby replied, her hands bracing against the counter as she leaned toward him, “I like being with someone more than every few decades. And don’t give me the ‘no one could understand’ bullshit either. You could have had Cynthia any time you wanted. The woman utterly adores you and sure as hell knows you aren’t quite there in the reality department.”

“She’s my secretary-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Nick! You wouldn’t be the first guy to bang his secretary.”

Nick’s eyes widened. The thought that Shelby actually felt bad for his lack of relationships had never really occurred to him. “That’s not the point.”

“Okay, sorry.” She ran her fingers through her hair and heaved a sigh. “I’m frustrated and pissed off and sad.”

“Yep, me, too, Shel. Me, too.”

“Bad time?” Reggie’s form seeped up out of the floor and stopped in the center of the table.

“You!” Shelby pointed an accusatory finger. “You need to quit spying on me.”

Reggie chuckled. “You’re far more fun than the boss here, Miss Shelby.”

She dropped the finger. “Why are you here?”

“That FBI girl you wanted me to, you know, spy on, might be in a spot of trouble.”

“Drake?” A tremor of panic rumbled in Nick’s gut. It couldn’t be. Jackie would not fit any family member’s profile.

“Oh, no. That devil seems to be busy bouncing between here and the beyond. Your agent seems to have gotten herself a bit drunk and taken a man home with her.”

“Why is this any of our concern?” Nick wondered. “She probably is just looking for some comfort after losing her friend.”

Reggie winced and shook his head. “Maybe, but I don’t think so, boss. Not the way she’s talking.”

“Talking how, Reg?” Shelby said, sounding worried.

“Well,” he said, scratching his stubbly chin in thought, “that dead agent keeps trying to contact her, and I think it’s about driven her crazy.”

“Shit!” Shelby ran for her coat on the living room sofa. “Let’s go, Nick. I’ll meet you there.”