Nick: Justice Series (4 page)

When he reached for the phone, she’d leapt at him. Her plan was only to stop him, but the knife had entered his belly just as he’d put his fingers on the handset. When he dropped to the floor, the knife still sticking out of him, Ellen realized that this was going to be great. She was going to watch them both die, and learn what she hadn’t the first time she’d killed someone. It had been a mistake to let her father find the man before she’d been done.

Her dad lasted a little longer than her mom had. Not by a lot, but enough for Ellen to know that she had to do something more to make sure they would continue to beg her. That was what she’d enjoyed the most, she had figured out quickly…the way they pleaded with her to stop. Her dad had told her he’d give her anything should she just let him live. Ellen had all she wanted by then and told him so. Over and over. But soon there wasn’t anyone to work on. Her parents were dead, and she had gotten bored quickly with eating what she wanted and watching the porn stations on the television. It was not all that interesting, she remembered thinking. Taking a shower and putting on something clean, she made her way across the yard to the neighbors.

The next house that she’d entered was the Jefferson house. They just let her in when she told them that her parents had sent her over to see if they had any aspirin. Mrs. Jefferson had told her she’d get it for her, and Ellen asked to use the bathroom. It was how she’d gotten to the kids first.

They had six kids, but she’d had to kill them quickly. They whined and the sound of it, the high pitched noise of it, still made her angry when she realized they’d done it on purpose to piss her off. So much so that when she was in lock-up, she’d have to leave the room when one of the others would do it. It would set her on edge in no time.

Two had been in their bed, which made it quick and quiet. The other four, two in one room and two huddled in a closet, had been easy pickings for her. But the parents gave her more than enough to make up for having to kill their children so quickly.

Ellen took her time with them. With the blade of the knife at the husband’s throat, she’d forced the wife to tie the male to the bed, then tied the woman down herself, threatening to kill her husband if she didn’t cooperate. Ellen had gone from one to the other, just cutting into them to hear them beg. When Mrs. Jefferson started screaming, her voice a needle going through her head, Ellen had ended her after the second day in the house.

Mr. Jefferson had offered her everything, as her father had done, including money and his car. What he thought she’d do with either had been beyond her when he was so perfectly there for her now. As she cut into him, his guts hanging out of his body like a long cord, she’d had music playing in the background that made her feel like dancing. And she had, right there on the bloodied floor, while he told her what he was going to do with her when he was loose. Which of course, he never did.

Ellen had gone to her house after being with the Jefferson’s for three days. They had played with her nicely at the Jefferson house, and now she was really ready to get down to perfecting her cutting. After cleaning herself up, washing her hair and even making sure that her socks matched, she walked to the only other house within miles and knocked on the door to the Weeks’s house. She used the same ploy as before, asking for a bottle of aspirin for her mom. Little did they know she no longer had any use for the stuff.

As soon as she was let in, one of the boys rolled his eyes at her. Ellen closed the door, clicked the lock, and turned to him. Bart was dead before he was a few feet from her; she’d cut his throat open with the long machete she’d found in the Jefferson house. It was perfect for making quick work of assholes like Bart.

The car entering her drive pulled her from her thoughts. The man who got out of the car looked like he was lost, but she didn’t move just yet. He was too close to his car for her to go out and take him, and he was big. Being in the home for so long had taught her that bigger didn’t always mean meaner, but when there was a fight, it would always overpower. When he stepped up onto the little porch, Ellen picked up her small knife and went to the door. Fun time was going to be sooner than she’d thought.

The man was looking to his left when she opened the door. It was then that she saw the woman in the car. The woman was staring at them both like she was going to be drawing them later, and Ellen slid the knife back behind her. Too much could happen with the woman out in the car. And as much as she wanted to make this man her first in this house, she didn’t need to try and kill him and chase down the car too. Ellen didn’t know how to drive yet, and had no idea how to bring her back should she have been able to stop her from leaving.

“Hello. We’re looking for June Stable. Do you…are you her?” Ellen shook her head and didn’t say anything. “My wife and I are supposed to bring her some things. There was a death in her family recently, and the address we were given isn’t showing up on our GPS.”

“I just moved to this area. I don’t know anyone.” Ellen watched him with her fingers itching to take out the knife and kill him. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

The man nodded and had started back for the car when he stopped and turned to look at her. Ellen felt as if he was trying to place her, but she knew that wasn’t possible. She’d been gone a long time, and there was no way she’d have forgotten him if he worked at the home where she’d been.

“Do I know you? I know that’s a weird thing to say, but you look like someone I should know.” He turned back to her, staring at her like there was going to be a contest later. “I think I should know you, but I just can’t place you. Funny, right?”

“Nope. Like I said, I just came to this area.” He nodded and moved forward again, only to stop and stare at her. Ellen started to come out of the house and kill him anyway despite the woman, when he turned back to his car and hurried to it. He was peeling out of the drive even before she could take a step off the porch. She had no idea what was going on, but then heard something making a noise on the porch. The man had dropped something. As she bent to pick it up, it chirped again.

The cell phone was something that, while she was familiar with it, she had not had a lot of practice with. Some of the people at the home had them, of course, and used them a great deal, so she knew how they worked. But as far as knowing how to call someone, she wouldn’t have had anyone to call anyway. Picking it up, she took it into the house and sat it on the table until it stopped making a screeching noise before she picked it up and inspected it.

It only took her a second to figure out how to open the screen up. There were a lot of little pictures too, mostly games on his phone. But when she started to close some of them up, hitting the little back arrow in the corner, she came across a picture of herself. It was one that they had taken of her the day that she’d been released.

It was an article, she thought. But since she didn’t know how to use the thing, all she got was the headline. And that was more than enough to have her packing her few things and getting out of the house. “Wooten Murder Spree” with her picture next to it was going to bring a lot of people to her door, and very soon too.

It took her an hour to get out of the house. Just as she was moving out of the back door, the driveway was filling with police cars and a large dark van. The letters SWAT on the side had her frightened enough that she nearly fell over the bench in the back yard and bloodied her knee. Running to the woods, she was to them when she heard the front door crash open and men shouting. Ellen climbed the first tree she could get into and watched as they moved all around the yard.

The man in the car had called someone. Ellen just knew it. And now she had not only lost her home, but her place to play as well. When the sound of a helicopter flying over her head reached her ears, she stared up at it. This was a lot of manpower, was all she could think. There had to be a reason that she was suddenly being pursued. Surely there had to be something else, some other reason why they had a manhunt out for her. No one could have found out that she’d been playing again so soon.

It had been months since she’d killed, and that had been at the victims’ house. Of course, there were the two men she’d killed, but again, she refused to count them, and would be really upset if the police tried to blame them on her. She had killed them, of course, but not the way she had wanted to. There were rules, and hers were they weren’t murder unless she cut them. Which, of course, she hadn’t had time to do. There had to be something else. Someone…. Ellen thought of the noise that she’d heard in the barn.

“Someone was up there.” She knew that now. And as much as she’d looked around, the person had evaded her. Had she had more time…? “Well, that’s going to have to be taken care of now. I don’t know who it was, but there has to be some way I can find out.”

As the men fanned out under her hiding place, Ellen tried to think what she had to do now. There was no way she could stay here, of course. She knew that they’d be looking for her harder too, and this house would be watched for a long time. Longer than she wanted to wait for them to leave her alone again. More than likely the other one too, but that was where she wanted to be. Deciding to go back to the house with the pretty green shutters and ugly green appliances, Ellen waited until dark before jumping down from the tree and making her way back to the house.

She’d have to walk it. Hitching a ride was going to be out of the question now, but she’d get there. And when she did, she’d be making sure that no one got the jump on her again. Ellen was going to make sure of that. There was no way, not ever, she was going back to that home.

Walking with her pack of things, Ellen thought of all the things she was going to have to do to set up again. She was glad that whoever had told on her at the house hadn’t waited until she had things just the way she’d wanted them, or she would have had to leave her toys behind. Ellen so loved her toys. Anything sharp wouldn’t do. It had to call to her. Sort of make her feel like they were meant to be together. She supposed in some way that was what it was. Her toys were as drawn to her as she was to them. And she’d had no problem stealing them when they did call out to her.

Ellen was looking forward to having her own play room, and fuck those who said she couldn’t do that. Her mother had always told her, “If it feels good to you, then you should pursue it with gusto.” So Ellen had. And now she was famous. Not the good kind of famous yet, but she would be. People would be writing about her for a long time.

Chapter 4

Joel hated being ignored. And Evie wasn’t just ignoring him, but she was slamming doors in his face and just talking around him. And that butler of hers? He was acting like he wasn’t there as well. And that shit wasn’t working. When he shouted for her to tell him where Addison was again, a voice behind him told him to shut up.

Joel turned slowly to look at the man. He was an older gentleman, dressed in a nice suit with a bow tie. Something about him—his face, his mode of dress—tugged at a memory for Joel, but the man spoke again before he could capture what it was that had him thinking he might have known him.

“I’ve not had a headache in nearly fifty years, and you’re giving me one. What the hell is wrong with you? Just shut up and enjoy the afterlife.”

Joel turned again and saw the portrait over the fireplace. The man in the portrait looked just like this man, from the top of his head and the bow tie all the way to the brown and white shoes he had on his feet. Joel looked at him again.

“It’s me. I had to stand for that picture for two hours. And I hate it. But it brings my lovely a nice smile, so I have to think it was for the best.”

“What the hell are you talking about? That man is dead. I know that for a fact. Evie talked about him…what do you mean, the afterlife? Are you trying to tell me that I’m dead? There’s no way…. Why are they ignoring me?” The man laughed and told him to shut up for a minute. “You can’t talk to me that way. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not used to people talking to me like that.”

“You’re dead. Get used to it, newbie. Here in the afterlife, where you are, you have to get used to a lot of things. Some you won’t mind, but there are a few that will bother you. The one thing I still have trouble with, even after all this time, is when they walk through you. Gives me the willies.” The man shuddered. “Even when you know it’s coming, it sort of creeps you out, as my granddaughter used to say. By the way, she’s not here. Addie is hiding. From you, I guess. Smart girl. And I’m thinking that everything my Evie says about you is right. You’re a moron and a bully, aren’t you?”

“Where is she?” Joel decided to ignore the insult. But when the man didn’t answer him, he yelled louder. “Who the hell are you? And what do you mean by all this other stuff? I…I think I’ll go home.”

“You can go home if you want, but you won’t get any more people noticing you there than here. I can go anywhere I want so long as I return here before sunrise. Don’t know why, but that’s the thing. We figured it was the time of my death. Sunrise. There’s this buddy of mine…well, buddy is a strange term for him, but he died so long ago that he no longer remembers what time he died, so he comes and goes as he pleases. You see him yet? Anyway, I’ll keep telling you this because sometimes it takes a while for it to sink in, but you’re dead.”

Joel started to sit down, but what the man said hit him. “I’m not dead. I’m as alive as you are.” The man laughed, slapping his hand on his knee as he did so. “I’m a young man. I exercise and eat right. Well, most of the time. I’m simply not dead. You’re mistaken.”

“You’re right about that one. You’re as alive as me. But you’re dead. Hit your head on the trolley that was over there. And no amount of exercise or eating the right way will help you with a slice of wood sticking out of your neck like that. Sorry about that. But you was gonna hit my Evie, and I couldn’t let you do that. No matter, I guess…you’re dead now too, and as soon as you figure that out, the better off you’re going to—”

“I’m not fucking dead. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Joel looked to where the trolley had been and saw the stain on the floor. “What happened here, and where did that woman go? I’m not finished talking to her.”

“She’s gone on up to bed, I guess. Took a lot out of her talking to the police and all. Poor woman. I surely wish I could go there and hold her, but I can’t. Stopped going to the bedroom soon after I figured out I was gone. Took me a while, but once I got it, then being with her was easier.” Joel stared at the floor and tried to wrap his head around what the man was saying. As he stood there, a man came into the room with a bucket and some rags. “Oh good. Getting the stain out of the floor will make my Evie feel better. Might be a while before she comes back in this room. Poor thing.”

Joel was starting to remember bits and pieces of what had happened. There had been an argument. He wasn’t sure of the details of that, but he’d gotten up to hit Evie. Women sometimes, he knew, needed a good slap. His mother had told him that for years. But Bentley had stepped in front of him. Joel tried to think if he’d hit him or something else.

“I knocked you back. You can’t hit her. She did nothing wrong but be the woman that I dearly love.” Joel turned to the man as more and more things started to fall into place. “Can’t hurt the dead, so you know. You can…as you grow older and stay here, you’ll gain more…powers, I guess you can call them. But you can’t just go around hurting us. The living, some of them, can feel you, but not a lot. One guy can…there are a group of them, but they can feel you. Talk to you too, if you’ve a mind to converse with them. I go and see him sometimes when he makes a call out for help.”

“I’m dead.” The man nodded and smiled at him. He then told him his name. “Just like Mr. Simon there. Jacob Simon was his name.”

“Me. That’s me. First love of Evie and father of our daughter, the ingrate. But we got us that granddaughter of ours, and that’s made me a happy man. Never met her, of course, but she used to come…did you say you were gonna marry her?” Joel nodded. “You’re that one that made her run then?”

“I never made her run. She did that all on her own. And when I find her, she’s going to pay for all the shit she put me through.” Jacob laughed again. “This is all her fault. Had she done as she was told, I’d be alive and her husband right now. Not sitting here with a dead man talking about bullshit.”

“You learn to love the bullshit after a while. But for you….” Jacob stood up and put out his hands. “You’ve overstayed your welcome. Be gone to your own home, never to return.”

Joel felt like he was being sucked into a straw. Every part of his body seemed to hurt for a split second before he was standing again. He stood there for several seconds before he realized that he really was in his bedroom. His bed hadn’t been made yet, and his towels from this morning were laying just where he’d left them. Joel left his room to go and find someone to tell him what the hell was going on.

They were all in the kitchen; his cook, who Joel had no idea what his name was, a little woman with an apron on and a dust rag in her hand, as well as another man with a knife in one hand and what looked like a chicken breast in the other. They were all staring at the television instead of working. Before he could tell them to get to work, he noticed what was on the screen.

“Long time resident of the area, Mr. Joel Delaney, was survived by his mother and his stepfather. His colleagues are not saying anything at this point; all of them have said they are dealing with the news at this time and may have a statement later. Of course, there is no word on the services or any arrangements as yet. The police are saying that Mrs. Simon-English is cleared of all suspicion in this tragic accident that happened today. Again, Joel Delaney, of Delaney Procurement Offices, is dead tonight at the age of thirty-seven.”

“I am not thirty-seven.” He was actually thirty-nine, but there was no reason for the entire world to know how close to that age he really was. “Tell them. Where the hell is Fred? He knows.”

“I sure wish Mr. Fred was here. He’d know what we were to do. But getting that other job offer was good timing for him. Lucky man. But he did have to put up with a lot from that tyrant. What do you suppose happens to us now? You think we’ll still get paid?” Joel just stared at the man with the knife. He couldn’t figure out what he was going on about. “I should have left when Fred did. Damn it all to hell and back. I’ll never get a reference from Mr. D now.”

“You work until I tell you that you aren’t working for me any longer.” Joel moved about the room, screaming in the ear of each of the people in the room. “Get to work. I’m not paying you to fucking sit around and do nothing.”

They, like the people in the other house, ignored him. Joel moved around his house for nearly an hour before he realized that what Jacob had told him might be true. He was dead. Dead, and no one was going to talk to him. He was too young to be dead. There were things he needed to do, things he wanted to complete.

“How the hell am I supposed to make any money being dead?” He didn’t even have any insurance to collect. His mom did, he supposed. She’d told him once that she’d been paying on something since he’d been a baby. “She’s going to be expecting me to just hand over everything to her now I bet, too. Well, I got news for her, there is nothing for her or that bastard she married.”

“My name is Howard.” The man in front of him just suddenly appeared. Joel stared at him for several seconds until the man waved his hand in front of his face. “You’re dead. You know that, right? I’m here to answer any questions for you. But hurry it up. I got other things to do besides babysit morons like you.”

“Why do people keep calling me names? I’ll have you know that I graduated at the top of my class.” The man snorted at him. “I did. I have all the awards and paperwork to prove it.”

“You’re dead. You lie and it bites you in the ass. You did graduate at the top of your class because you blackmailed your professors to do it. And that little girl you fucked to get her to change your grades is still reeling from the consequences of that action. He’s about fourteen now; you have a son. Congratulations.” Howard put out his hand and when Joel reached for it, all they did was pass through each other. “Now. For lying. You’ll have to stop that. I’m giving you ten extra years here on this plane.”

“You mean you’re taking away ten years.” Howard said no, he had it right. “I don’t understand. Why would adding ten years to my…death be that much of a hardship? I love it here.”

“You do now. But in a few hundred years you’re going to be bored. And bored ghosts get their asses zapped. You don’t want to be zapped. Trust me, it’s painful and sometimes you can’t return from it. There’s this guy on the other side…he is good, damned good, and he’ll put you in a world of hurt if you fuck up. Which I have no doubt that you’re going to do.” Howard wandered around the room as he continued. “I’d suggest that you move out of here. In a few months they’ll come in and take all your crap away and box it up and set it on the curb. There will be an auction, people will pay a whole lot less for your shit than you paid for it, and that will piss you off. When you get that way, you screw up and then things go badly for you. Trust me, move on now.”

“I don’t get this at all. None of this is making a bit of sense, you know? I’m told I’m dead, yet you and that other man can talk to me. You add ten years onto my life…death. Okay, what the hell am I supposed to do with myself for the next few months? I have to work.” Howard just stared at him. “This realm or whatever it’s called, I can just hang around here and do nothing? Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“You were murdered, right? Okay, let me give you the quick version. You were murdered, more than likely about to do something—or you have done something—that makes it so no one came to collect you. Happens more than you know. Anyway, you were murdered and now because you are a shithole, you have to be here. When you’ve done whatever it is you need to do to fix it, or you get your ass zapped, you can move on.” Joel asked him what that might be. “I don’t know. Damn it. Why is it that I have to take care of the idiots?”

When he suddenly disappeared, Joel just sat there. He knew less now than he did before, but one thing that did stick out in his mind was the selling of his things. That wasn’t going to happen. Not so long as he was…well, dead. He started to laugh and then got up to look around. There had to be something he could do. Anything.

Going to the kitchen again, he found it empty, and it was dark in the large room. The clock on the microwave said it was four o’clock. Joel had no idea what time of the day that was, and looked around for something, anything to help him out. He’d been dead for one day, and he was already going stir crazy.

“It will only get worse as you go on. Time has a way of making you crazy when there is nothing to do.” He turned and looked at the ghost standing there. This man was older and dressed as if he’d had a bit of money before he’d died. “I’m not here to help you in any way. Just here to give you this. It’s a handbook, I guess you could say.”

Joel looked at the thin, tiny book. “There’s not a lot of information in that, I’m guessing. And what do you mean, I’ll have nothing to do? I have plenty to do. Making money is my business, and I have a woman to find. She’s going to be my wife. I’ve decided that this is all a bad dream and I’m going to wake up from it.”

“You were killed. You were going to hurt someone, and one of our kind stepped in and knocked you out of the way. We can do that, protect what we left behind.” Joel wondered if the man at the house had gotten into trouble for killing him and doubted it. Things like that never worked out for him. But the man in front of him continued. “Time is weird with the dead. A minute can seem like a lifetime. Less really when you’re not doing anything productive. But when you’re working, helping out, time has a way of going quickly. Your time will also be shortened should you want to leave here.”

“And what if I don’t want to leave here? What if I want to go on as I did before? Living my life the way I want to.” The man shook his head. “I should get something for being killed. I had my whole life ahead of me.”