Dead Reckoning

By TK Eldridge

They'd been warned.
Jack and Jamie knew that being a voice for the dead, finding justice for those who died too soon, was risky.
People were asking questions that they couldn't answer - not truthfully.
Then the wrong people started asking questions and everything Jack and Jamie had worked so hard to set up was about to come tumbling down.
Enemies and allies can change sides, leaving a person feeling lost at sea.
Then again, when one is navigating uncharted territory, there's always a chance for a dead reckoning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TK Eldridge
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005986384

TK Eldridge

TK Eldridge retired from a career in Intelligence for the US Gov't to write. The experiences from then are now being used to feed the muse for paranormal romance, mysteries, supernatural, and urban fantasy stories. When they’re not writing, they are enjoying life in the Blue Ridge mountains of western North Carolina. Two dogs, a garden, a craft hobby and a love of Celtic Traditional music keep them from spending too much time at the computer.

Book preview

Chapter One

Mass casualty events are defined as an intentional violent criminal act that results in injury to a sufficiently large number of people. They’re talking about a highly lethal attack, where twenty-one or more people were killed in a single incident. Attacks like the bombing at the Harvest Festival in the middle of the city of Harbor, Massachusetts. I’m pleased to report that two hundred and seventy-three people died and another hundred and fifty were injured. I’d say that qualifies as highly lethal – wouldn’t you?

It was actually a better body count than I’d expected. Pressure-cooker bombs inside trash cans aren’t guaranteed to have a high body count, but I managed to beat the odds. Maybe I should head to Atlantic City with this luck, huh?

They shouldn’t have treated me the way they did. They shouldn’t have ignored my warnings. Payback is a bitch, and I’m her right hand man.

Chapter Two

Mariana Moreno closed her eyes and visualized for all she was worth. The dark blue wimple and her shorn grey locks became a silver cap of hair in a neat pixie cut. The blue cardigan and white blouse was replaced by a bright many-colored tunic in silk with elbow-length flared sleeves, and the demure blue skirt and sensible black shoes became dark purple leggings and suede ankle boots of a matching hue.

Mari had forgotten how powerful purple made her feel. She did a little twirl and laughed in pure delight.

"Okay, now it’ll be easier to not be calling you Sister Robert, Mike said. Mariana, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Shall we get back to work?"

Call me Mari, Michael, Mari said. 

Then call me Mike, he replied.

I’ll do my best. Mari stood in the middle of the park and turned to take in the debris and damage, as well as the crowds of law enforcement from the FBI down to the local PD that swarmed the scene.

The first bomb was here, in a metal trash can at the entrance to the food court. The second one was over there, under the bleachers next to the dance floor. Both placed for highest body count and greatest damage, Mike said.

I’m just glad they’ve collected all of the bodies, Mari said. I can’t say it was comfortable seeing my own corpse lying under the booth.

I hear you. I was so confused when I died that I didn’t realize I was dead until I ended up standing next to my body on the gurney in the morgue, Mike said. You’d think for a homicide detective, I’d have been used to dead bodies, but that was a shock.

All of the years I spent preparing bodies for burial didn’t really prepare me for seeing my own on the ground, with pieces missing, Mari said. At least the two kids that were helping me at the school booth are alive. I don’t know what warned me, but something told me just seconds before it blew, to shove them under the booth. The shock wave of the explosion collapsed the booth on them, but concussions and a few broken bones can be healed.

You were a hero to the very end, Sis…er, Mari. I’m sorry, it’s going to take me a bit to stop calling you Sister Robert, Mike said.

I was Sister Robert Mary for forty years, Mike. It’s okay. But now, since I have ignored the light to stay and help, I don’t feel I can call myself that any longer. I’m just Mariana Moreno, once more.

Well, Mari, let’s go wander the scene and collect information. Jamie and Jack are going to need our help with this one, Mike said.

Sounds like a plan, Mari said.

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It was the smell she was grateful she didn’t pick up. Being a ghost had its advantages, and not smelling the aftermath of the surrounding devastation was one of them. Families, students, old and young, had come out to the park in the center of Harbor, Massachusetts to attend the annual Harvest Festival. Mariana had been here with a couple of her students, managing the booth for the St. Agnes school benefit. They had been selling cold drinks, baked goods donated by parents, and school t-shirts—right next to booths selling funnel cakes and bobble head dolls. Now the booths were covered in blood and ash, and she felt like the biggest failure. She couldn’t keep wearing her nun’s habit—it didn’t feel right. Not now. That’s why she’d had to change.

Mari felt the pull to cross over when she’d first died, but she couldn’t leave the children, and she couldn’t leave with so many who had died beside her being confused and disoriented. She could help them, so she stayed and did just that.

Now, she had a new purpose – to help Mike, Jack, and Jamie find the people responsible for this so they could be brought to justice. Then, maybe, she would feel like she’d earned the right to cross over. Her time would come. It just wasn’t right now.

Mariana had work to do.

Chapter Three

D o you remember what I told you back when I came to visit at your home? Mari asked as Jack dug through her bag to find a clean shirt.

Which thing, Mari? You told me a lot of stuff that day. Some of it took me a while to process.

I told you that you and your friends had a gift and were helping to bring peace to those whose lives were ended too soon. I also told you that there were those out there who didn’t want you to be able to help them find justice. Those people also have the ability to speak with the dead and they can make things difficult, Mari said.

And you’re bringing this up now, why? Jack asked as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head and fluffed her hair. Kendrick is waiting to drive us to the scene so I can help him with evidence collection.

You’re the only person I know that would put on lipstick to go pick up body parts and bomb fragments. Besides, no one will see the lipstick under your mask, Mari said.

I’ll know it’s there, and it makes me feel confident, Jack replied. "Besides, she added, giving the ghost a sideways look. I won’t be wearing a mask until we suit up at the site. He’ll see me as is first."

Kendrick is a good man and a hard worker, Mari said as she followed Jack into her living room. He’s been working that scene for two days now. How much is left to collect?

Not much, to be honest. The collective teams working the site have been excellent. I think this is more a case of him wanting me nearby so he knows I’m safe more than his needing my help. When the attack happened, Avery and I were supposed to be at the festival and he thought we were in the middle of it all, Jack said.

Speaking of Avery, how is he after all of this? Mari asked.

He’s as good as can be expected. Everyone is more wary and watchful after the attack, but he’s back at the university and buried in classes and coursework, Jack said. Keeping busy is the best thing for him right now.

Doc is here, Mari said. I’ll meet you two at the site. I’m going to check on something.

Mari disappeared and Jack grabbed a jacket and a knit hat for later. New England in autumn was beautiful, but sunny days faded into cold nights. The gear she’d be wearing would keep her warm, but by the end of the day, when she took it all off, the temps would be cold enough for a coat and hat.

Doc greeted her with a kiss as she climbed into his work van and tucked her things away. Thanks for coming with me today, Doc said.

Of course, love. I’m happy to spend the day with you, even if it is work related, Jack replied. We will get to take a lunch break, right?

Yeah, a ninety-minute one. Why?

I want to take you somewhere for lunch, away from the scene. I’ll need a break by then, and you’ll be better for one, too.

Are you going to tell me where? Doc asked.

Nope, it’s a surprise. A girl has to keep a little mystery in the relationship, doesn’t she? Jack teased back as they drove away.

The scene at the park was sobering. Granted, Jack and Doc had been around a lot of dead bodies. Being a homicide detective and a coroner kind of guaranteed that one would be among the dead on a regular basis—but mass casualty events were a different level of death and destruction.

Jack squeezed Doc’s hand in silence, then climbed out of the van and met him at the back to suit up. Biohazard attire meant booties that tucked into the jumpsuit legs, a mask and face shield that fit under the hood, and gloves that went to mid-forearm.

Where are we working today? Jack asked.

We’re supposed to go over the second bomb site as part of the final pass before they let the park staff clean up what’s left and fix the damaged areas so it can reopen. Most of the debris has been taken to a warehouse on the docks so they can reconstruct and study things free of weather threats.

That means we’ll be crawling around under bushes and stuff, Jack said. I’m going to strap on the knee pads then.

Oh, my gods, you look so adorable, Doc teased as he watched her tuck her gloves into the side of the gear bag and make sure everything was secured.

Keep it up, boyo, and you’ll be eating PB and J for lunch, Jack retorted.

Some might think it strange that they were joking around in a place where so many had died, but there were documented psychological benefits to using humor as a shield and a coping mechanism when a dire situation was out of one’s control. Psychologists believed it showed resilience in the people that use it and have noted that many in high-stress jobs like first responders or those in the medical or military professions use such humor extensively. Jack didn’t care about all of that – she just appreciated the fact that Doc shared her sense of humor and made doing even the most gruesome tasks less painful.

The work was tedious and demanded an attention to detail that was more exhausting mentally than it was physically. When they finally stopped for lunch, the four hours they’d spent on their section had cleared about half of their assigned grid zone.

On the way back to the van, Jack paused to watch three men in black suits, black shirts, and shiny black dress shoes as they spoke to one of the FBI agents on the main walkway through the park. They looked out of place among the white-suited workers and navy FBI jackets.

Hey, Doc. Who are those guys? Jack asked.

I don’t know, but they’re talking to Will Stanhope. I’ll ask him when we come back, Doc said.

Once they’d peeled off their gear and stowed it in the back of the van, they each grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and rehydrated as they got settled in their seats.

Those men you saw are the Vatican watchers I warned you about, Mari said as she appeared between the seats of the van.

Jack startled and spilled some water on her lap. "Don’t do that to a person."

Not like I can give you a warning other than speaking up, Mari said. And I wasn’t about to speak to you two out there, where they’d see.

Then let's get moving, Doc said. Where are we going? he asked Jack.

Regal Seafood on the wharf. Their lunch specials are excellent and I think we both deserve a little spoiling, Jack said.

Nice choice, Doc replied.

They also let you in for lunch in jeans and t-shirts, Jack said. That way we don’t have to change to get a fantastic meal.

Glad to see the two of you are taking this situation so seriously, Mari said. You do realize that those Watchers showing up is a bad thing, right?

They haven’t approached us, Mari. They don’t know who we are, or they’d have come right over to us. They’re probably just on scene because it was a mass casualty event and there were so many ghosts, Jack said.

Besides, you and Mike are watching out for us, right? Doc said.

We are, but we’ll have to be exceptionally careful that they don’t see us. They can see ghosts, Mari said.

What will they do if they see you? Jack asked.

Banish us, Mari replied. Send us across whether we want to go or not.

Oh, Jack said.

"Yeah. Oh," Mari replied.

Chapter Four

Tara Zimmerman gave Jamie a kiss on the cheek and smiled. You need to get going, and I need to get to work. The city has asked non-essential businesses around the park to stay closed for the week while they clean everything up, but that ends the day after tomorrow. I have to get ready to re-open the gallery.

Jamie brushed her braid over her shoulder and leaned in to kiss along the side of her neck. Her dark red hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes captivated him and made it difficult to keep his hands off of her. That’s the day after tomorrow, not right now, he challenged. And I don’t have to work until later tonight.

Gallery owners don’t get to keep private investigator schedules, Jameson Kennedy, Tara chided him, then laughed as he kissed a ticklish spot on her neck.

Fine, then. Let’s shower and get something to eat before you get to work?

I adore you, Jamie, but we’re showering separately or we’ll be in there for an hour. I’ll shower, then go get food for us while you shower, Tara said. I’m serious. I have a ton of work to get done before we reopen. I’m changing out some of the displays. As much as I appreciate art that shows the darker side of humanity, I don’t think anyone needs that in their face with the park across the street.

Good point, luv. Okay, you go shower and I’ll make the bed and pick up our clothes.

That sounds like a deal, Tara replied as she grabbed a robe and headed into the bathroom.

Jamie stayed where he was for a moment to watch her walk away, then got out of bed and did as he’d promised. By the time Tara came out to get dressed, he was ready to go shower, and the room was neat once more.

Grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and soup sound okay? Tara asked as he went into the bathroom.

That sounds perfect, Jamie replied.

A short time later they were both seated at the table in the kitchen, enjoying their lunch.

What’s the case you’re working on tonight? Tara asked. Or can’t you discuss it?

It’s tied to the Festival attack, Jamie said. I can’t say more than that, unfortunately.

I understand. Just be safe, okay? I’m learning how to adjust to the dangers of your job and the lack of information, Tara said.

You have to learn to trust that I’m good at what I do and I don’t take stupid risks, Jamie told her as one hand reached out to capture one of hers. If you need to talk about it, there are resources that help cop partners deal with this particular kind of stress and fear. I can get you some information.

I’m handling it okay so far, Tara said. And I’ve spoken to my therapist about it and she said the same thing you just did. That I have to trust that you’re careful and know the risks aren’t as dramatic as I might imagine them to be.

Elise had trouble with it, and the partner’s group helped her for a while, Jamie said. Until it didn’t.

"From what you’ve told me, Elise’s