“You gotta be kiddin’ me, old man. Do you know how long it took me to tie this, and now you’re gonna go and kick it with a heart attack?” The man huffed, stood, walked to the recliner, and sat. He reached out a gloved hand and picked up Roy’s glass. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a choice. You can lie there and die or,” he wiggled the noose, “I’ll help you out. You get to decide how you’re going to die. Take your time.” He stretched his legs out and took a sip. “But know this: if it takes you longer to croak than it takes me to finish this drink, you’re going to decide to commit suicide.”
Roy’s hand twitched. He tried to slide his arm forward, but his body wasn’t responding to his commands. He had never thought too much about how he’d die, but even in his worst nightmares he had never imagined he’d die like a dog on the floor while some punk sat on his recliner, drinking his whiskey.
“You were a soldier, huh?” The man picked up the photo of Roy and his wife. “She was hot! She’s dead, right? Too bad. I’ve always wanted a two-fer.”
Roy groaned. Pain wracked his chest as if a bat were repeatedly smacking his rib cage.
“Come on. Say something. Guys like you always want to hear themselves talk.” The man took a long sip and then tapped the glass with a fingernail. “Past the halfway mark. Looks like we might have a hanging after all.”
Roy stared at the man. “Why?” The question escaped Roy’s mouth before he realized he didn’t really want to know. What could possess anyone to enjoy watching someone die?
“Why a hanging?” The man put his feet on the floor and his elbows on his knees as if he were discussing a football game with a friend. “Because no one is going to think twice if an old guy says screw it, has a couple of drinks, and realizes that he has no purpose and should do the world a favor and get the hell off it.” He tilted his head back, drained the glass, and slammed it down on the table. “But that’s not what you were asking me, was it? I bet you’re just like my grandfather. He was a soldier too. He looked at me the same way you are now. He’s why.” The man stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m done with my drink.” He stepped over Roy.
Roy watched the thief. Out of all of the things in the house, he reached out and picked up the last thing Roy would have guessed he’d steal.
“It was real fun hanging my grandfather and watching him dance,” the man said. “His feet kicked a long time. His face turned a deep purple, and boy did he stare then. His eyes were almost popping out of his head. I wonder if that’s what you’re gonna do.”
The man kept talking, but Roy didn’t hear him anymore. His words sounded far away, and Roy was grateful to be fading out. He was almost dead anyway; there was nothing this man could do to him.
Just before his eyes closed for the last time, Roy couldn’t help but wonder: Why would he steal that?
2
Pause the Game
THREE WEEKS LATER
Jack parked in front of the little ranch house, and the whole car rocked as his King Shepherd, Lady, stood up on the backseat and stretched. Jack reached back and scratched behind her ears. “This is the last stop. I promise.”
He took out his notebook and reviewed the names listed on the page. All of them had been crossed out except for one: Amanda Muldoon.
Jack hurried across the street and knocked on the cranberry-red door. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and smiled slightly. He was a handsome man, but at six foot one and a fit one hundred and ninety-five pounds, he could come off as intimidating. A few seconds later, the door opened an inch until it hit the chain still securing it. Wary brown eyes peered out.
“Ms. Strauss? I’m Jack Stratton. I called and left a message. I’m trying to find—”
“Hold on.” The door shut, a chain rattled, and the door opened again. An older woman with auburn hair looked Jack up and down. “We bought the house from the Muldoons.”
“Who’s at the door?” a man called out from inside the house.
“That guy who called looking for the Muldoons. Will you pause the game? I want to watch it too.”
Jack heard the roar of a sports crowd coming from the other room.
“I can’t pause it,” the man said.
“Why not?” the woman snapped.
“I can’t find the remote!”
The woman glared at Jack. “I’m missing the game. What do you want?”
“I’ll only be a minute. I’m trying to locate Amanda Muldoon. She was a friend of my girlfriend’s mother, and—”
The crowd on the TV cheered.
“They just tied it up!” the man exclaimed.
The woman stamped her foot. “Like I said, we bought the house from them. We weren’t friends or nothing. They moved. I don’t know where.” She started to shut the door, but Jack shot his foot forward to act as a doorstop.
“I’m sorry, but it’s really important that I track Amanda down. Did she mention anything about where she was moving?”
The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. It was ten years ago.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway behind the woman, and a man in a stained T-shirt, with an empty beer bottle in his hand, appeared. “Get rid of him,” he whispered loudly enough for Jack to hear.
“Did you find the remote?” she asked.
“It’s half-time.”
The woman huffed at Jack.
“Look, I’m sorry to interrupt your game.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Get a pizza on me. I just need you to try to remember anything that can help me find Amanda. It’s really important.”
The woman’s face scrunched up and she brought her hand up to her chin. “Wait there.” She glanced at the man and tipped her head back to Jack before she walked away down the hall.
The man groaned. He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and then frowned at the empty container. “The game’s not paused!” he bellowed over his shoulder.
“I know. It’s just half-time,” she yelled back.
Less than a minute later, the woman marched triumphantly down the hallway with a manila folder in her hands. She snagged the twenty from Jack’s hand. “Amanda moved to Kissimmee.”
“Florida? Are you sure?” Jack took his notebook back out.
The woman opened up the worn folder in her hands. “That’s what the return address says. We had a problem with the furnace after the sale—”
“Problem?” The man swung his arms wide and his belly bounced. “The piece of junk had a crack in the ceramic lining. I had to get a whole new one. Amanda didn’t disclose—”
“Just go get another beer.” The woman waved her hand as if she were shooing off a fly, and the man shuffled down the hallway.
“Can I get that address?” Jack angled his head to see the envelope. “Amanda Holt?”
“Yeah.” The woman’s lips pressed together and opened with a pop. “Oh, I remember. Holt. That’s her maiden name. She sold the house because she was getting a divorce. Muldoon was her husband’s name.”
Jack wrote the address down and flicked his notebook closed. A smile spread across his face. “Thank you very much.” He turned and headed down the walk.
“Why are you looking for Amanda?” the woman called after him.
“My girlfriend needs something. Amanda’s the only one who has it.”
3
Aviophobia
Alice scooted down the crowded airplane. “Do you want the window or the aisle?”
“Aisle.” Jack frowned as he looked at the space between rows. “Wait a second.” He touched her shoulder. “There are three seats in our row. So why would my choices be window and aisle?”
Alice smiled sheepishly. “At least I got us in the same row.”
“Same row, but someone’s going to be sitting between us?”
“It’s the best I could do. The flight’s full.” Alice slid over to the window and put her bag beneath the seat in front of her.
“This trip just keeps getting better,” Jack grumbled.
He jammed his bag into the overhead compartment and wedged his six-foot-one frame into the seat.
“I know!” Alice’s pretty face lit up. She was either unaware of his sarcasm or ignoring it. “I can’t believe we could change flights on such short notice.”
Jack watched her swing her feet. At a fit five-foot-four, Alice had leg room to spare. He tucked his jacket under the seat in front of him—in case Alice got cold later—and then pretended to look at the in-flight magazine. But really, he was watching Alice out of the corner of his eye. She was nervous about meeting his parents and had been a wreck the past two weeks getting ready for the trip. For the hundredth time, Jack wished he’d just rescheduled the trip for later. Alice meeting his parents was awkward enough without trying to explain their situation.
Alice lightly placed her hand over his wrist. Jack glanced down at his hand and realized he was crushing the in-flight magazine.
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about flying,” she said.
“No.” Jack stuffed the magazine into the seatback. “I was just thinking about the debacle in the diner.”
“Stop calling it that.”
“What would you call a rejected marriage proposal?”
Alice’s green eyes rounded. “I didn’t reject it.”
“You didn’t say yes.”
“Jack…”
“I know. It wasn’t a ‘no’—it was a ‘think about it.’”
“But you think about it.” Alice pointed at him. “You know I love you beyond words. I just don’t know if you thought the whole thing through. Marriage is huge. It’s forever. I don’t want you asking me because you think that’s what I want. You should ask me because that’s what you want. And because you’re ready for it,” she quickly added.
“Ready for it? You sound like you’re about to throw something at me.”
“Some people say marriage is like that. A lot of stuff comes flying your way. That’s all I meant when I said not now.”
“You said no.”
“I said not now.” Alice put her feet on the floor. “Look at it from my point of view. There I am eating pancakes, and you’re like, marry me? You almost made me choke to death.”
“It was spontaneous. I didn’t think about it.”
“That’s the problem. You need to really think it through. That’s all I’m saying.”
“What—”
A hand touched Jack on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Jack turned. A very large, round woman with silver hair smiled down at him. She reminded Jack of Mrs. Claus, if Santa’s wife helped herself to all the milk and cookies left out for her husband. In her hands was a dog carrier, its top open and the head of a fluffy, cotton-white poodle sticking out.
The woman pointed to the seat between Jack and Alice.
Jack stood and flashed a grin that he hoped was a mix of please-help-me and I’d-sure-appreciate-it. “Good morning, ma’am. Actually, I was hoping we might be able to switch seats. You see—”
The woman’s rosy cheeks went pale. Her whole body quivered as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m just not able. I have aviophobia. Fear of flying.”
Alice reached for her seat belt. “Would you like the window?”
The woman’s silver bob shook again. “I also have a bit of agoraphobia, but thank you.”
“Agoraphobia?” Alice repeated.
“Fear of sweaters?” Jack joked.
The woman cracked a smile. “No. It’s an uneasiness with open spaces, so the window wouldn’t do.”
Alice reached up and started to pull the window shade closed, but the woman’s hand shot out like a panicked crossing guard. “Open’s fine. Mild claustrophobia.”
Jack stepped into the aisle, and the woman wiggled and wedged her way into the middle seat. Alice gave Jack a thin smile. He wanted to finish their conversation about the engagement, but he wasn’t about to do it with Mrs. Kringle sitting between them.
“Sorry.” The woman let out a little chuckle. “I’m just a big ol’ bundle of phobias, but that’s why Didi’s here.”
The little poodle yapped once at the mention of her name.
Alice melted. “She’s adorable.”
“She’s my emotional support animal. She has a vest, but she doesn’t like to wear it.”
“Maybe she has vestobia,” Jack said.
The woman turned to Alice. “Do you like dogs?”
“I love them!” Alice reached out and scratched behind Didi’s ears. The little poodle practically purred.
“Wonderful.” The woman shifted Didi’s carrier and took out a seat belt extender. Even with the extra length, she struggled to click her seat belt around her. After a few failed attempts, she held the dog carrier out toward Jack.
Her smile disappeared when she saw Jack’s apprehensive look.
Alice reached out and took the carrier. Didi wiggled at the attention.
“I take it your man’s not a dog lover?” the woman whispered loudly to Alice.
“No. He is.” Alice’s brown ponytail swayed as she nodded. “It just takes Jack a little bit to warm up. I’m Alice.”
“Connie Gibson.” She smiled triumphantly as the seat belt clicked into place.
Jack tried to twist away from her to give her room, but he was still pressed awkwardly against Connie’s shoulder. “I just have a dash of dogophobia.”
Apparently oblivious to Jack’s joke, Connie settled into her seat.
Fifteen minutes later, the plane was in the air and on its way.
“Are you going to Florida for business or pleasure?” Connie asked Alice.
“Pleasure.” Alice turned away from the window. “For a week. We’re going to see Jack’s parents. They’re just getting back from a cruise.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise, but…”
“Aquaphobia?” Jack guessed.
“Oh, no. I love the water, but I heard the cabins are just tiny. My friend Lidia said it was like showering in a toilet. And they can be expensive.”
“My parents won the trip,” Jack said. “All expenses paid.”
“I’m sure they had a fabulous time.” Connie shifted her arms, and Didi leapt out of the carrier and onto Jack’s lap. She put her paws against his chest and licked his face.
“Oh, she likes you.” Connie didn’t move to pick up the dog. “She’s giving you kisses.”
Jack held the dog away from him with one hand and wiped his cheek with the other. “Here you go.”
Connie quickly took the poodle back. “But she’s such a little angel!” She held the dog up and Didi licked Connie’s puckered mouth.
Jack felt his lip curl and his stomach flip.
“Do you have a dog?” Connie asked Alice.
Alice fidgeted in her seat. “Actually…” Her voice trailed off and she peered over the seat in front of her.
Jack followed her gaze to the front of the plane. The stewardess was hurrying down the aisle. There was still a smile on her face, but it was strained, and Jack could see the concern masked there. She passed them, moving toward the back of the plane, and Jack turned to look. In the rear of the plane, several passengers were waving the stewardess toward them.
Jack undid his seat belt and stood.
From somewhere in the belly of the plane came a low rumble.
Jack froze. The sound grew so loud that everyone in the cabin turned their heads, trying to guess the cause.
Jack sat back in his seat and stared straight ahead. He didn’t need to try to figure out what was making the noise. He knew exactly what it was—and it was very, very bad.
“What on earth could that be?” Connie clutched Didi tightly to her bosom.
Jack leaned forward to look at Alice. A mixture of heartbreak and concern was etched across her face. He knew she wanted to run to the cargo hold.
Suddenly, loud barks boomed and echoed from deep within the plane, followed by a long howl that made everyone on the plane sit up nervously.
Murmured questions raced through the plane.
“What are they transporting?”
“Is it safe?”
“It’s too loud to be a dog. Wolves?”
Jack sat back in his seat and took out the in-flight magazine.
“What do you think it is?” Connie asked, wide-eyed. “Aren’t you worried?”
Jack grinned. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I do. But you? You’re fine.”
Connie turned her puzzled look to Alice.
“What Jack means is…” Alice wrung her hands. “That’s our dog. Lady.”
“The creature making that tremendous noise is a dog?”
Alice nodded. “She’s a King Shepherd. See, I had a doggy boarding home all picked out, but when we went to drop Lady off…the place was horrible. It was dirty, and someone was yelling at the dogs, and I just couldn’t leave Lady there. I just couldn’t.”
Connie patted Alice’s hand. “Neither would I. Not on your life. You are a good momma to your fur baby. I understand completely.”
“And there was just no one else to watch her. Mrs. Stevens, our landlady, is away taking care of her sister, so we had to bring her.”
“Is she in cargo?”
Alice’s lip quivered. “They said she’d be okay there. I asked the vet, and he promised she’d be fine.”
Connie squeezed her hand. “Is this her first time flying?”
Alice nodded.
“She’s okay,” Jack said. “She’ll settle down in a couple of minutes.”
“Are you sure?” Alice asked hopefully.
“Positive.” Jack clicked his tongue. “Give her a couple of minutes and she’ll start thinking of all the ways she’s going to get even with me for taking her on this trip. She’ll forget all about the plane and spend the rest of the flight plotting her revenge.”
4
Rule Number One
Dixon strolled across the living room of his aunt’s house, carrying a box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. “Did you miss me, Auntie?”
Jack of Hearts Page 2