Jack of Hearts

by Christopher Greyson

  His aunt sat in a wingback chair with a martini glass delicately balanced in two fingers. Her blue eyes studied him as he plopped the candies onto the coffee table. “Your shoes are filthy. Either clean them properly or remove them before you enter my house.”

  Dixon glanced around the room, filled with items imported from around the globe; most had come via Beverly Hills boutiques. He shook his head and whistled low. “Look at all this pricey stuff.” He slid into the seat opposite her, put his feet up on the table next to the candies, and folded his hands behind his head. “You might be wiping your butt with silk now, but you had the same trailer crib as my mom and me, you know.” Dixon inhaled deeply. “So don’t go—”

  He stopped abruptly when he saw the silver Glock in her hands.

  “Get your feet off my table, stand up, and address me properly like a big boy and not some redneck trash.”

  Dixon laughed. It came straight from the gut and made his shoulders bounce. “You’re one hot ticket, Auntie. Mom always said if she was a firecracker, you were dynamite.”

  “You think I won’t shoot you because you’re my sister’s son? The only reason I’m not shooting you is that I like this carpet. It’s an antique Persian Sarouk. Now get your damn feet off my Leroux table.”

  Dixon stood, flicked from the table a clump of mud that had fallen from his sneaker, and smiled. “Happy?”

  His aunt set the gun down in her lap and sipped her martini.

  “You know you can text me the address, right?” he said.

  Seeing the expression on his aunt’s face, Dixon was glad she had put the gun down before he said that.

  “Don’t write anything down—ever. A couple is coming in tonight: 11 Banyan Breeze Drive.”

  Dixon waited. He knew he was in for a scolding after the old soldier went and had a heart attack. It was why he’d brought the chocolates. But as he stood there, anticipating a lecture, his aunt simply stared at him and sipped her martini.

  Dixon ran his hands through his hair. “Aren’t you going to give me crap about the last guy?”

  She glanced down at the gun, smiled, and sipped her martini. “I’ve made what is required of you perfectly clear: don’t bring unwanted attention. You’re my sister’s child, but if I continue to think that you could alter my situation here, you’ll find out that all those stories my sister told you about me were true.”

  Dixon felt the vein in his temple begin to throb. He liked his aunt, but he had rules. And rule number one was: no one threatens him. No one. Still, right now, she was making the money rain, and he wasn’t about to shut off that faucet. “Anything you say, Auntie.” He sarcastically blew her a kiss and headed to the door.

  “I also want you to stay clean.”

  “I’m not using,” Dixon lied. He couldn’t wait to get to his car and take a hit to kill the pounding in his head. “Does this couple have a name?” he called over his shoulder.

  “Stratton. Ted and Laura Stratton.”

  5

  Not My Idea

  The bright-green compact rental car, with two suitcases strapped to its roof, sped straight down the palm tree-lined street. Lady took up the entire backseat of the tiny car, resting her head on her paws.

  Alice looked at the map on her phone and pointed left. “There it is.”

  Jack turned at the wide wooden sign: Orange Blossom Cove.

  “It’s a fifty-five-plus community with senior care,” Jack explained. “My mom’s cousin lived here until she died and left it to my mom. With my father’s declining health, it was a huge blessing. They’d never have been able to afford it otherwise.”

  “It’s a gated community. That sounds safe.”

  Jack pulled up to the white bar that crossed the road and served as a gate. “It sounds safe, but it isn’t really.” He pointed at the bar. “You kind of need a wall to go with the gate to make it safe. Without a wall, you can just go around the gate.” He powered down his window, and the hot, humid air rushed in as if he’d opened an oven door. “It’s Martian-hot here.”

  Jack took a deep breath of the tropical air and looked at the landscaped entrance with palms and some kind of mini trees covered in pink flowers. “They spend more money on flowers than security. They need a wall and a guard. I’d add a patrol, too.”

  “So you want your parents to move to an army base?”

  “An army base would be safer.” Jack punched in the code his father had given him and the white bar slowly rose. Jack powered his window back up and reached for the air-conditioning knob, but it was already running at full blast. “It’s like living in a humidifier,” he grumbled. “How can my dad stand it?”

  They took a left at a single-story building with a large circular dome in its center. A half dozen cars were parked out front. Jack pointed at it. “The community center makes this a great setup for my parents. They really don’t have to go anywhere now. They have doctors who have office hours in there, and a gym. Their groceries are delivered, and someone checks in on them.”

  As they crossed a stone bridge, they had a great view of the community. Three small ponds were connected by a canal, and over a dozen white homes with terracotta-tiled roofs surrounded each pond. Some were single units, but most were duplexes.

  They took two more turns before arriving at the Strattons’ single-family house. It was identical to the other cookie-cutter Florida homes except for the bouquet of balloons and a sign hung over the front door: Welcome Home!

  Alice beamed. “Your mom is awesome.”

  “She is.” Jack parked in the driveway.

  “Do I look all right?” Alice smoothed out her new summer dress, white with blue roses. She had spent hours picking it out and finding a pair of shoes that were just right.

  “You’re beautiful. And stop worrying—my parents don’t care what you look like.”

  Alice nodded, but she still reached for the visor and checked her reflection in the mirror.

  He climbed out of the car and opened the back door just as Alice blurted out, “No, wait!”

  Lady bounded from the car and landed with her feet wide and her paws digging into the grass. A low growl rumbled deep in her chest as she turned her head to glare at Jack.

  Jack raised a hand. “It wasn’t my idea to put you on the plane.”

  Lady started marching toward him.

  Jack started backpedaling.

  Alice raced around the car. “Lady! Lady, it’s okay.”

  “It wasn’t my idea!” Jack held both hands up and kept shuffling backward.

  Lady barked twice and shook her head; the ripple traveled along her back, raising her fur. Puffed up like that, she looked even larger than her one hundred and twenty pounds.

  “She doesn’t know that, Jack.” Alice grabbed the thick collar and planted her feet, but Lady easily dragged her forward.

  “Seriously, dog, you’re blaming the wrong person here.”

  “She can’t understand you, Jack.”

  “She understands me just fine. Look! She shook her head!” Jack was backed up almost to the front door. “She just doesn’t believe me.”

  Once Jack was trapped between her and the house, Lady stopped walking and instead began to bark.

  “See?” Jack yelled over the noise. “She’s chewing me out!”

  After another minute, Lady’s mouth snapped shut. With a snort, as if signaling that she had finished, she started to walk away, dragging Alice after her.

  Alice managed to clip the leash onto the collar. “I’ll just let her stretch her legs,” she called back before she disappeared around the corner.

  Jack exhaled. “Great. We were buddies before this trip, and now she wants to eat me.” He knocked on the front door of his parents’ house.

  He waited.

  Just before he knocked again, an older woman hurried across the yard from the house next door. She looked to be in her mid-sixties, and her hair was an odd shade of reddish-brown that clashed with her polka-dotted pink summer dress. She walked
with her right hand raised in front of her and her mouth open, ready to speak from the moment she left her house.

  “Are you looking for the Strattons?”

  She stopped with her waist and knees slightly bent and her head thrust forward on her long neck. Jack thought she looked like one of those shore birds that move through the ponds with one eye on the fish and one eye on people, ready to spear one or the other with their pointy beak.

  “Yes, I’m their—”

  “They’re not home. What was that thing that came out of your car? They don’t allow exotic animals here, and I’m sure—”

  Jack interrupted. This woman’s brusque manner and nasal voice chafed him. “She’s not a thing. She’s a dog.”

  The woman’s mouth closed with a pop. Her hands went to her hips and she spoke down her nose at Jack. “That’s not a dog.”

  “She’s a King Shepherd—a big softie. Excuse me.” Jack took out his phone and dialed his father.

  “Regardless, we have a leash law.”

  “She’s on a leash.”

  “She was not on a leash. You should have control of your animal at all times, and that beast is bigger than your wife.”

  Jack could hear a phone ringing inside his parents’ house. His father’s voicemail picked up again. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

  The woman must have heard the phone ringing too. She folded her arms across her chest and smiled smugly.

  “Do you happen to know where they might be?” Jack asked.

  “They’re probably at the community center. A lot of people here waste time playing bingo. I guess it’s okay if you have nothing better to do.”

  Jack bristled. He was about to give her a piece of his mind but stopped short. Perhaps it was because of his proximity to his parents’ house, but he could almost feel his mother’s reproving stare. He forced himself to act cordially to their neighbor. “Thank you.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jack Stratton.”

  “Oh.” The woman shook his hand and eyed him like an appraiser on Antiques Road Trip. “So, you’re the one Laura is always going on about.”

  “That’s my mom.”

  “I’m Gladys Crouse. Are you staying with them?”

  “Actually, I think I’m going to head over to that community center. Nice meeting you.”

  “If you stay overnight, you need to check in and get a visitor’s pass.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “And guests aren’t allowed to have animals.”

  Without responding, Jack walked in the direction Alice and Lady had gone. As he rounded the corner of the house, he spotted them taking long strides along a brick path that encircled the pond behind his parents’ home.

  Jack cupped his hands to his mouth and called, “I’m heading over to the community center! My parents are there!”

  Alice waved and nodded.

  As Jack headed down the block toward the community center, Gladys stood in her doorway and watched him go.

  Guests aren’t allowed to have animals? Did she memorize the community handbook?

  His parents’ car was parked in front of the community center. Jack had no trouble spotting it; the “I Love My Math Teacher” bumper sticker was a dead giveaway.

  As he walked through the wide glass doors, a woman in a sharp business suit strode forward. Her dark-gray jacket and white blouse had more of a Wall Street look than Orange Blossom Cove.

  “May I help you?” Her heels clicked on the tiled section of floor in front of the door. She stopped in front of Jack and blocked his forward progress.

  “I’m Jack Stratton. I was told that my parents are at bingo. Ted and Laura Stratton.”

  “Certainly. Please follow me.” She turned and walked to another set of glass double doors.

  Jack followed her into a large multipurpose room filled with elderly people sitting at rows of tables.

  “N thirty-seven!” The announcer held up a Ping-Pong ball he’d just plucked from what looked like a giant hamster ball. The number was projected in enormous digits on two screens for all to see. The whole setup was in front of a small theatrical stage with sparkling silver curtains on both sides.

  The announcer made a big show of turning a crank handle that started the giant hamster ball turning. The numbered balls inside it bounced back and forth. After a moment, he stopped cranking, pulled out another selection, and held it high. “I twenty-one!”

  Murmurs, mutterings, and a couple of hopeful pleadings flittered around the room.

  An older woman strolled over to Jack and Miss Wall Street. “Is everything all right, Tia?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Miller,” Tia replied. “Mr. Stratton is looking for his parents.”

  The woman’s smile was warm and her gray eyes were bright. “You must be Jack.” She shook his hand. “Your folks are right over here. Thank you, Tia.”

  Tia tilted her head and walked back out the door.

  “I’m Helen Miller.” The woman took Jack by the arm as if he were an old friend. “I don’t think your poor father has even had a chance to unpack from their cruise, but your mother insisted on coming down and thanking everyone for their trip. She’s the most thoughtful woman.”

  Jack chuckled. His mother was always the first to fire off a thank-you card for even the slightest gesture. “My mom said they had a great time and she’s very grateful.”

  “Well, we’re grateful for them. Your parents are a delightful addition to our community.”

  Helen patted Jack’s arm, and her diamond rings glittered. Jack glanced at her white pantsuit; he could have sworn it was the same Armani outfit that Alice had pointed out in the in-flight magazine. He tried to push the thought aside, but he couldn’t help but wonder how much money all the people staying here must be spending if the head of the community center could afford to dress like a cross between a CEO and a fashion designer.

  The ball in the front of the room stopped spinning. “N forty-two!”

  “Bingo! Me! Bingo! Yay!” A woman’s hands shot into the air.

  A few players politely clapped. Jack stifled a grin at all the grumpy faces.

  “They’re a competitive lot,” he whispered.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Helen whispered back. “Because of regulations, we don’t play for cash. But all bingo club members get a chance to win the drawing at the end of the month. It gives them something to look forward to.”

  “You sure give out a big prize. I couldn’t believe my parents won a cruise.”

  “That’s not the monthly prize, that’s the grand prize. You need to get a triple-decker to win the cruise.”

  “A what?”

  “A triple-decker. That’s three full houses in a row.”

  Apparently, bingo was just finishing up, as the crowd stood and began to disperse. Jack spotted his parents in the corner. “There they are,” Jack said.

  His mother hadn’t seen him yet and moved toward the bingo table at the front of the room. But his father saw him and waved him and Helen over.

  Jack’s father, Ted Stratton, still dressed as if he were about to teach a math class—khaki pants and a crisp, white button-down shirt.

  “Hi, Dad. Sorry we’re late.”

  His dad gave him a bear hug. “Alice isn’t with you?”

  “She’s back at your house. I just left you a message.”

  Ted smiled at Helen. “I see you met my son, Jack.”

  “I was just telling him how lucky your wife is.”

  “A triple-decker.” Ted shook his head. “Mathematically, it’s like getting hit by lightning.”

  “Explain that to my manager.” Helen rolled her eyes. “We’ve given away three cruises in two months. I find myself holding my breath at every game.”

  “Jack!” his mother called out. He looked over to see her dragging the announcer by the hand through the crowd.

  She gave Jack a hug. “When did you get in? Where’s Alice?”

  “She’s back at the house. I—”

  “We should get going right away then. I�
�m so sorry I wasn’t there. I just had to stop in and thank Mr. Pitman.” She turned to the announcer, a tall man in a beige suit. “This is Mr. Pitman. He gave us the trip.”

  The announcer blushed to the top of his bald head. “You won it, Laura. I’m just glad you had a nice time.” He held out a hand to Jack. “Marvin. Pleasure.”

  “Jack.” As Jack shook the man’s hand, he realized the end of Marvin’s index finger was missing.

  Marvin made a comical face. “Sorry for the handshake. Bingo ball bit the knuckle off.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, wait, it was Mrs. Landing who bit it off when she lost.”

  Ted chuckled and gave Jack a wink.

  “Well, thank you again.” Laura grinned. “It really was wonderful.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Marvin gestured toward Helen. “Helen lets me have the games here. And as long as we do, we’ll keep having winners.”

  “I’d never dream of stopping bingo, Marvin. I think there’d be a riot!” Helen laughed.

  “Thank you too, Helen.” Laura moved behind Jack and his father and prodded them to the door. “We shouldn’t keep Alice waiting.”

  The men gladly weaved quickly through the crowd and back into the summer heat.

  Ted handed Jack a handkerchief. “I’ve adjusted to the heat, so how about you use this one.”

  Jack was embarrassed to use a handkerchief—it seemed like an old man thing—but he took it and wiped his brow. “Thanks. You look great, Dad. You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

  “Thirty pounds. But it’s all water weight. Sweat. Living in a steam room has that effect on you.” His father wiped his hand from his forehead over the top of his bald head for emphasis.

  “Oh, Ted.” Laura gave Jack a faux look of exasperation. “He’s doing great with his training. Your father goes for a walk every morning and watches every bite. I’m very proud of him.”

  “Do you like how she tries to spin it by calling it ‘training’?” Ted opened the passenger-side door for his wife. “She calls it training like I’m preparing for the Olympics. It’s more like obedience training. She gives me little treats and I do her bidding.”

  Laura leaned in close to her husband and whispered, “I thought you liked my reward system.”