[GV] Davidson, Mary Janice - Betsy 4 - Undead and Unreturnable

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Undead and Unreturnable
By
MaryJanice Davidson
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Undead and
Unreturnable
Berkley Sensation titles by MaryJanice Davidson
UNDEAD AND UNWED
UNDEAD AND UNEMPLOYED
UNDEAD AND UNAPPRECIATED
UNDEAD AND UNRETURNABLE
DERIK'S BANE
Undead and
Unreturnable
MaryJanice Davidson
BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South
Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over
and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2005 by MaryJanice Davidson Alongi.
Text design by Kristin del Rosario.
All rights reserved.
BERKLEY SENSATION is an imprint of The Berkley Publishing Group. BERKLEY SENSATION
and the "B" design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First edition: November 2005
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Davidson, MaryJanice.
Undead and unreturnable / MaryJanice Davidson.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-425-20816-8
. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Weddings—Planning—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3604.A949U526 2005
813'.6—dc22
2005017372
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
In honor of my grandfather,
John Opitz,
who taught me to do the best I could without complaint.
Which, like all important life lessons,
is lost on me.
Acknowledgments
First and forever I must, must, must thank my children, who are brilliant, charming, and deft at
entertaining themselves when Mom's locked in the office on deadline. They'd probably prefer my
company to a few lines in a book, but as always, their expectations are too high; I'm just not that good a
parent.
Another thousand thank-yous (to go with the kisses!) to my husband, Anthony, who came up with
"sinister metrosexuality" and likes Betsy almost as much as he likes me. He puts up with the mood
swings, speechifying, and ear-cutting that is part and parcel of living with a mass-market paperback
author, and I adore him for it.
Thanks also to my PR person/best friend/evil sidekick Jessica Growette, who I swear lies awake at night
thinking about how to get my name out there. Which is cool, if creepy.
The Magic Widows, of course, must also be thanked. I learn something every Tuesday. Even better,
sometimes I retain it!
Special thanks to Carl Hiaasen, John Sandford, and Laurell K. Hamilton for continually showing me how
it's done.
Finally, thank you to the readers who enjoy reading about Betsy's comings and goings and who wanted
to know where she went next. Thanks for hopping in and coming for the ride.
Author's Note
After seeing all the books, movies, magazines, andNational Enquirer articles out there about serial
killers, I got a little curious. After some research, I found that the actual number of estimated psycho killer
nutjobs running around is anywhere between ten and five hundred. (For obvious reasons, it's tough to
come up with an exact number.)
Let's say the experts are way off, and triple the guesstimate: one thousand, five hundred. There are about
three hundred million people in the United States. So roughly .0000005 percent of the population is
made up of serial killers. Needless to say, chances are you're not going to trip over one in your driveway.
Betsy, of course, has problems most of us will never, ever have to deal with. She and Detective Nick
Berry win the serial killer lottery in this tale, but, like drinking blood and endless police paperwork, it's
not something most of the rest of the population has to worry about.
Also, colic is bad. But it doesn't last forever.
From the Book of the Dead:
"And the Queene shall noe the dead, all the dead, and neither shall they hide from her nor keep secrets
from her."
And:
"And she will noe Evil in many forms, and defeat it should that be her will, and be the Protector and
Avenger of all the dead, for as long as shalt be the will of the Queene."
"Just like a spider with a line of silk! Did you ever see them throw themselves out into space to weave?
They're taking a chance, every single time. They got to do it or else they'd never create anything. But I
bet it don't feel good, even to a spider."
—Olivia Goldsmith,
Fashionably Late
"It's not a bad little tree, really. It just needs a little love."
—Linus,
A Charlie Brown Christmas
"There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"
—Charles Dickens,
A Christmas Carol
Undead and
Unreturnable
Prologue
From theSt. Paul Pioneer Press
December 15, 2005
THIRD WOMAN FOUND SLAIN. Minneapolis, Minnesota.
The body of an Edina resident was found this morning at approximately six-thirty A.M. Cathie
Robinson, 26, was found in the parking lot of the Lake Street Wal-Mart. Forensics show that she had
been strangled. She had been reported missing on December 13. She is believed to be the third victim of
the so-called Driveway Killer, who has so far claimed at least three local victims.
Detective Nick Berry, who has been working with the FBI since the second victim, Martha Lundquist,
was found on November 23, said the investigation is pursuing several leads. "This is our top priority,"
Berry said. "Nothing else even comes close."
Ms. Lundquist was reported missing on November 8, and her body was found in the parking lot of a
White Bear Lake Target store on November 10.
The FBI has profiled the killer, who appears to be choosing tall blond women with light-colored eyes
and short hair. Although an arrest is "imminent," Berry warns Minneapolis women to use caution when
leaving their places of business.
It is believed that the Driveway Killer has also struck in Iowa, Missouri, and Arkansas.
The FBI and local police believe that the first local victim was Katie Johnson, 27, who was reported
missing on October 28 and whose body was found on November 4 in the parking lot of the Lakeville
McStop.
From theStar TribuneDecember 17, 2005
BORN, to Antonia Taylor and John Peter Taylor of Edina, Minnesota, a boy, Jonathon Peter Taylor II,
at 12:05 A.M. on December 15 at Fairview Ridges Edina.
Chapter 1
This is how my tombstone read:
Elizabeth Anne Taylor
April 25, 1974-April 25, 2004
Our sweetheart, only resting
"That's just so depressing," my best friend, Jessica Watkins, observed.
"It's weird." My sister, Laura Goodman, was staring. "That is very, very weird."
"Our sweetheart, only resting?" I asked. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"I think it's nice," my sister said, a little hesitantly.
She looked like a dirty old man's dream with her long, butterscotch-blond hair, big blue eyes, and red
peacoat. You know how ministers' kids will sometimes go wild when they finally get away from their
parents? Laura was the devil's daughter (no, really), so her way of rebelling was to be as nice and sweet
as possible. A dastardly plan. "It's a little different. Most of the people I know would have gone with a
Bible verse, but your mama certainly didn't have to."
"Given how things turned out," Jess replied, running a hand over her skinned-back black hair, "it's a little
prophetic, don't you think?" As usual, when she put her hair up, she pulled it back so tightly, the arch of
her eyebrows made her look constantly amazed. Though it's possible, given where we were standing,
that she reallywas amazed.
"I think standing in front of my own grave is the last place I want to be on the seventeenth day of
December, is what I think." Depressingand creepy. Must be the holidays.
Jessica sighed again and rested her forehead on my shoulder. "Poor Betsy. I can't get over it. You were
so young!"
Laura smirked a little. "Like turning thirty wasn't enough of a trauma. Poor Betsy."
"So young!"
"Will you pull yourself together, please? I'm right here." I stuck my hands into my coat pockets and
sulked. "What is it, like ten below out? I'm freezing."
"You're always freezing. Don't bitch if you're going to go outside without your gloves. And it's thirty-five
degrees, you big baby."
"Would you like my coat?" Laura said. "I don't really feel the cold."
"Another one of your sinister powers," Jessica said. "We'll add it to the list with weapons made of hellfire
and always being able to calculate a 22 percent tip. Now Bets, run this by me again… how'd your
tombstone finally show up here?"
I explained, hopefully for the last time. I had, of course, died in the spring. Rose in the early dawn hours
the day of my funeral and gone on undead walkabout. Because my body was MIA, the funeral was
cancelled.
But my mother, who had been in a huge fight with my dad and stepmom about what to spend on my
marble tombstone, had rushed to order the thing. By the time it was finished, no funeral, no service, no
burial. (My family knew the truth about what I was now, and so did Jessica. My other coworkers and
friends had been told the funeral had been a joke, one in very poor taste.)
So anyway, my tombstone had been in storage the last six months. (My stepmother had been pushing
for plain, cheap granite, with my initials and my dates of death and birth; a penny saved is a penny
earned, apparently. My dad, as he always did when my mom and Antonia were involved, stayed out of
it.)
After a few months, the funeral home had politely contacted my mother and asked what she'd like to do
with my tombstone. Mom had the plot and the stone paid for, so she had them stick it in the dirt the day
before yesterday, and mentioned it at lunch yesterday. You know how it goes: "Waiter, I'll have the
tomato soup with Parmesan croutons, and by the way, honey, I had your tombstone set up in the
cemetery yesterday."
Jessica and Laura had been morbidly curious to see it, and I'd tagged along. What the hell, it made for a
break from wedding arrangements and Christmas cards.
"Your mom," Jessica commented, "is a model of scary efficiency."
Laura brightened. "Oh, Dr. Taylor is so nice."
"And just when I think your stepmother can't get any lamer… no offense, Laura." The Ant was
technically Laura's birth mother. It was a long story.
"I'm not offended," she replied cheerfully.
"Have you two weirdos seen enough?"
"Wait, wait." Jessica plopped the bouquet of cream-colored calla lilies on my grave. I nearly shrieked.
I'd sort of assumed she'd picked those up for one of the eighty thousand tables in our house. Not for my
grave . Ugh! "There we go."
"Let's bow our heads," Laura suggested.
"Noway . You're both fucking ill."
"Language," my sister replied mildly.
"We're not praying over my grave. I'm massively creeped out just being here. That would be the final,
ultimately too-weird step, ya weirdo."
"I'mnot the one on a liquid diet, O vampire queen. Fine, if you won't pray, then let's book."
"Yeah," I said, casting one more uneasy glance at my grave. "Let's."
Chapter 2
"Good evening, Your Majesty."
"Tina, baby," I called, dumping more cream in my tea. "Have a seat. Have a cup."
"How long have you been up?"
"Two hours or so," I said, trying not to sound smug. God had answered my prayers and lately I'd been
waking up around four in the afternoon. Of course, I lived in Minnesota in December, so it was just as
dark at four as it was at eight, but still.
"But you… you haven't seen the paper?" Tina sat down across from me, theTrib folded under her arm.
She put it next to her and ignored the teapot. "Not yet?"
摘要:

 Color---1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8--9-TextSize--10--11--12--13--14--15--16--17--18--19--20--21--22--23--24 UndeadandUnreturnableByMaryJaniceDavidsonContentsPrologueChapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chap...

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