Jack of Hearts

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Jack of Hearts Page 14

by Christopher Greyson


  “Well, most likely,” Ted said, “I just need to lose fifty pounds. The doctors ran some tests and some of the results…” He held out his hand and tipped it back and forth. “My heart’s been working too hard. Taking the weight off should lessen the strain. The doctors think there might be something else going on, so they’re doing more tests to be sure.”

  “What do you think?”

  Ted leaned against the air conditioner. “I think I had one too many Li’l Kimmie snack cakes.”

  “You didn’t tell Mom? Or me?”

  “I didn’t want either of you worrying. It’s probably nothing. But no matter what happens, we’ll deal with whatever comes our way.”

  “Well, I’ll admit this does have me a little worried.”

  “See? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you!”

  “I know. I just…I just can’t imagine life without you.”

  “There’s no reason to. I’m sticking around. And if I don’t, I have my will—”

  “Don’t talk like that, Dad.”

  “I have to. I don’t want to, but I have to. Look, this is a part of the whole proposal thing that I think you still don’t understand.”

  Jack started to protest, but Ted lifted his hand. “It’s speech time, and I’m taking one minute. Time me.”

  Jack took out his phone.

  “‘Time me’ was just a figure of speech, but fine.”

  Jack put the phone away. “I was just joking.”

  “Marriage is a doorway that’s going to change everything for you, Jack. The biggest thing is, you’re getting a partner. Your mom is mine. I need to watch out for her now, when I’m here, and after I’m gone. She always has my back, and I need to have hers. The dreaded word is coming up here…” He pointed at Jack.

  “Responsibility.” Jack leaned against the air conditioner next to his father.

  “Responsibility.” Ted smiled. “I won’t inundate you with details, but I do want to take part of an afternoon and go over the estate plans with you.”

  “You’re not going to die, Dad.”

  Ted chuckled. “Hopefully not right this second, but none of us gets out of this life alive. I owe it to you and your mother to take care of things. And you owe it to your mother to know what the estate plans are, and what to do when I’m gone—which will be a long time from now. Agreed?” Ted stuck his hand out.

  “Agreed.” Jack shook his father’s hand.

  Ted held up his hand, which was now covered in dirt. “Uh, you might want to wash your hands, Jack.”

  “What?” Jack looked down at the air conditioner, and realized he’d been leaning against a muddy spot. His handprint was just visible in the dirt. And next to it…

  Is that a boot print?

  “Are you okay?” Ted asked.

  Jack didn’t answer. His focus was now on the small window above the air conditioner. That boot print, below a window, set off silent alarms in his head.

  The reflected sunlight on the screen faded as it neared the corner of the window. Jack reached up and felt the screen. The bottom half pushed in.

  Jack took out his phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Ted asked.

  “The police. The screen’s been cut. Someone’s broken into Roy’s house.”

  27

  My Home

  Alice finished wiping the glass tabletop with a paper towel. Her back ached and her mouth was dry.

  Janet’s heels clicked loudly off the tile as she marched down the hallway and strutted over to the table. She dragged one manicured finger along the glass and then held it up directly underneath Alice’s nose.

  “I see you’re ignorant of the fact that you should clean glass with a microfiber cloth so that you don’t leave any residue. I assume that’s because your regular clientele have low standards, but those are not my standards. Clean it again—and this time, please use the proper supplies.”

  Alice chewed the inside of her lip. “Certainly, ma’am. Would it be possible for me to please get a drink of water first?”

  “There’s a faucet in the laundry room next to the supply closet. You are not to use the kitchen.” Janet glanced at her Cartier watch. “You’re incredibly slow. At this rate, concentrate on the living room. It will have to do.”

  Several replies came to mind, but Alice reminded herself that she was doing this for Jack’s mother and bit her tongue.

  She lowered her eyes and headed down the wide hall toward the laundry room. As she passed by the enormous gourmet kitchen, she struggled to picture Janet making use of it. The woman would never pick up a pan, let alone peel a carrot. Alice wondered whether the beautiful kitchen was just for appearances. In fact, the whole house had a museum feel to it. Each room felt more like a staged display than a place where people actually lived.

  My home won’t be like that.

  Alice’s vow brought a small smile to her lips. A few years ago, she didn’t even have a home—and now? Now she stood on the edge of a dream coming true, and she wanted nothing more than to settle right into her new life with Jack.

  Had she blown it by asking Jack to make sure that was what he really wanted? He loved her—she was sure of that. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to take care of her. She wanted what was best for him, even if that came at her expense.

  Alice pushed the laundry room door open and saw the sink. Of course there were no cups, nothing to drink from. She’d have to drink straight from the faucet.

  When she turned on the water, the stink of sulfur made her nose wrinkle. She left the water running, and after a few seconds the smell dissipated somewhat. She cupped her hands, held her breath, and took a hesitant sip.

  She immediately spat the water out.

  It figures Devil Woman’s water tastes like it’s imported from hell. She wiped the back of her mouth with her hand. All this grief, and no sight of that stupid ugly cat.

  The sound of Devil Woman’s heels preceded her appearance in the laundry room doorway. She glanced down at her watch and then gave Alice a frosty stare. She waved her hand dismissively and stalked away in disgust.

  Alice stomped out of the laundry room. Her blood was boiling now. She may not be a professional cleaner, but she had busted her back all day, going as fast as she could. She just wanted to find the cat and get out of here.

  She yanked opened the supply closet and began digging around, looking for a microfiber cloth.

  Then she jumped back in surprise. A pair of red eyes glared like rubies out of the darkness.

  Alice took out her phone and smiled.

  28

  Think Like a Criminal

  Jack sat at his mother’s kitchen table and sipped an iced tea while his father paced the floor.

  “You’re the one who figured out it was a break-in,” Ted said.

  “They’re just doing their job, Dad.”

  “But they’re not going to let you even take a look inside?”

  “It’s a crime scene, Dad. And now it might be a murder scene. They’ll have to call in detectives, process the scene…”

  Ted threw up his arms in exasperation. “But you’re a policeman.” He was incredulous.

  “Calm down, Dad. I don’t want to see you get worked up like this.”

  “Oh, brother. This is what I was afraid of. You’d find out about my heart and now you start babying me. I know my limits. I can take care of myself.”

  Jack set down his drink. “Even if I were still a policeman, they couldn’t just let me in. It’s not my jurisdiction. Now sit down. Relax. Sip some of Mom’s herbal tea.”

  Ted made a face.

  Laura came into the kitchen. “Honey, you should have some water.”

  “You see?” Ted looked at Jack. “Babying.”

  Just then Ted’s phone rang in his pocket, and he put it to his ear.

  “Is that the doctor?” Laura asked.

  Ted turned toward Jack and rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not the doctor. Must have been a wrong number. They hung up.”
He looked at his phone. “Blocked number. Probably a telemarketer.”

  “Something’s the matter,” Laura said. “What is it?”

  Ted pointed at Jack. “Our son figured out that Roy McCord’s home was broken into.”

  “Roy had a heart attack. Oh! You don’t think someone could have…” Her hand covered her mouth.

  “They could have broken in after he died, Mom,” Jack said. “A lot of crooks read the obituaries. They target the house during the funeral.”

  “They should get locked up for a long, long time,” Ted fumed, his face and neck turning a splotchy red.

  “Don’t get upset.” Laura reached for his forearm and patted it.

  “Don’t treat me like some Fabergé egg. I might be shaped like one, but I’m not going to break. And I will not be coddled.”

  Laura leaned a little closer and softened her voice. She whispered, but Jack still heard her say: “But you like my coddling.”

  Jack waved his hands. “I’m right here.”

  Laura blushed. “Do you think the break-in at Roy’s is connected to the thefts?”

  “We have no idea,” Ted said, “because the police won’t even let Jack inside the house to look around.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Laura said. “I know a way to get in.”

  Jack held up a hand. “Please stop thinking like a criminal, Mom. No more break-ins. No more trips to the police station.”

  “I didn’t break into the first house, and I am certainly not thinking like a criminal.” Laura waggled a correcting finger at Jack. “I’m thinking like a detective. And you don’t need to break in. Just have Bernie let you in. Roy gave him a key, so everything’s perfectly legal.”

  “Robbery?” Bernie Lane raised his thick eyebrows so high they almost reached his even thicker hairline. He leaned against his doorway while Ted and Jack stood on the porch. “That’s a damn shame. I came home when the police were just leaving. Helen must have let them in, because no one asked me.”

  “Helen Miller? The community manager?” Jack asked.

  “She’s the only one with access. It’s senior living, son. You never know if someone’s coming out of their house breathing or not from one day to the next. Are you sure they robbed the place?”

  Ted nodded. “We’re positive they broke in. Jack noticed a screen on the back window was cut, and there was a footprint on the air-conditioning unit underneath it.”

  “Glad I’ve got a dog.” Bernie stuffed the front of his shirt into his belt. He untucked the back in the process, but didn’t seem to notice. “Damn shame, stealing from a war hero.”

  “Roy was a war hero?” Jack said.

  Bernie nodded. “Didn’t talk about it. But I saw all his medals one day, so I looked him up. He took a bullet saving a guy at the Battle of Huế. He was a good neighbor, too.”

  “Do you still have a key to Roy’s?” Ted asked.

  Bernie nodded. “I was going to give it to his daughter-in-law when she showed up, but they haven’t reached her yet. I don’t get what the holdup could be. Why do you ask?”

  “We’re wondering if you could let us in,” Ted said.

  Bernie’s thick eyebrows knitted together to form one long woolly caterpillar.

  “There’s been a series of break-ins,” Jack began to explain, but Bernie cut him off.

  “You don’t need to tell me. The bastard stole my cheese-dial.”

  “Your what?”

  “My Packers cheese-dial. It’s a sundial, but the gnomon is a slice of cheese and the dial plate is Lambeau Field.”

  “The gnomon is the piece that stands up,” Ted explained to Jack. “Its shadow tells the time.”

  “I know, Dad. You taught me when I was a kid.” To Bernie, he said, “What did the cheese-dial weigh?”

  “The whole thing?” Bernie thought for a moment. “Twenty, maybe twenty-five pounds. ’Course, that’s mostly the post, and they left the post. Just took the plate. That was probably ten, maybe fifteen pounds.”

  “Was it an expensive piece or—”

  “It’s a Packers cheese-dial! It’s priceless!”

  Ted cleared his throat. “So…you’ll be able to let us in? Jack’s a police officer and just wants to look around.”

  “Sure. I’ll get the key.” Bernie disappeared inside. He reappeared a minute later sporting a Green Bay Packers hat and a gangly poodle on a leash. The poodle ran out and sniffed Jack’s legs. “Might as well take her out to do her business. She goes more in the middle of the night than I do.”

  “Thanks for your help, sir,” Jack said.

  As they walked over to Roy’s house, the excited poodle danced around Jack. Jack had to keep stepping over the leash to keep from getting tangled in it. Bernie made no attempt to rein the dog in.

  Bernie unlocked the front door and entered. Roy’s house had the same layout as Jack’s parents’ home, except the living room was on the right instead of the left.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Bernie shifted his weight from side to side, crossed his arms, and looked as if he was second-guessing his decision to let others enter his friend’s home.

  “I want to see what’s on the other side of the window above the air conditioner.” Jack walked through the living room to the kitchen.

  The living room was immaculate and orderly, as though someone had used a level while arranging each piece. The magazines were stacked in a perfect rectangle, the remotes were lined up in a neat row, and the books on the shelf were arranged alphabetically by the author’s last name. No pictures on the walls, but a few stood on the table near the phone in identical hinged frames.

  An old wedding photograph caught Jack’s eye. A soldier had his arm around a girl, and both of her arms were wrapped around his waist. He was in his dress blues, and she wore white. As Jack looked at the soldier standing straight and tall with a protective arm wrapped around his new wife, he felt a shift inside. Seeing that beautiful bride beaming on her wedding day, he knew he wanted to see a smile like that on Alice’s pretty face.

  “I thought you wanted to see the window,” Bernie called out, holding the kitchen door open.

  Jack followed Bernie through the kitchen to an adjacent laundry room. The rectangular window, its edges now smudged with fingerprinting dust, was directly across from the door. Beneath it was an empty wicker laundry hamper. The washer and dryer sat against the right wall, and a countertop ran along the left wall.

  Jack nodded. “Thanks, I got what I needed.”

  “What would that be?” Bernie scratched his head. “All you did was look at the wall.”

  “It’s a narrow window, five feet off the floor, with nothing underneath it for the thief to hold on to.”

  “So?”

  “That narrows down the list of people who could climb onto that air conditioner, fit through the narrow window, and drop to the floor.”

  As they walked back into the living room, Bernie muttered something, but Jack couldn’t make it out.

  “Bernie,” Jack asked, “do you notice if anything’s missing?”

  Bernie scanned the room and shook his head, his white hair swaying like cotton in the wind. “Looks just like it did when I took the pictures.”

  “What pictures?” Ted asked.

  “After Roy passed, I figured I should document what was inside. Just in case. You know how it is when someone goes. The vultures swoop in. Family you haven’t seen in years and friends you never knew you had—all looking for something.”

  “Did you take pictures of the entire house?”

  “Nothing fancy. Just a panorama of each room. I was going to send them to Denise. That’s Roy’s daughter-in-law. But the email bounced back. She got remarried and changed her name. Guess she changed her email too.”

  “The police will want to see those pictures,” Jack said.

  “What for?”

  “They can use them to see if anything is missing.”

  “Oh.” Bernie nodded. “I’ll go print them ou
t.”

  “Do you have them on your phone?” Jack asked.

  Bernie nodded.

  “We should compare them to the room here.”

  Bernie took out his phone and nodded at Ted. “You’ve got a smart boy, Stratton.”

  “I do indeed. Thank you.” Ted stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack, Bernie, and Ted stood in Roy’s bedroom. Jack pointed to the picture on the phone. “Wait a minute. That’s different.”

  “The goldfish bowl is gone!” Ted stared at the empty spot on the bureau.

  “Oh, I can explain that,” Bernie said. “I watered Roy’s plants when he was in the Bahamas. I had to feed the goldfish too. After Roy passed, I knew someone had to take care of the fish, and I didn’t want to keep coming on over here, so I took the fish home with me. I was going to give them to Denise, if she wanted them. You don’t think the police will mind, do you?”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jack said. “But these pictures will be very helpful to the police. They’ll compare them to the current scene. I’ll send a copy of them to my phone.”

  Bernie snapped his fingers. “You should have Darius take a look at the pictures too. Darius knew Roy better than anyone.”

  “Is Darius a friend?” Jack asked.

  “Best friends. They were in the war together. Roy took Darius to the Bahamas with him. Darius Davis. Lives in Ogden. It’s about an hour and a half drive.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have an address or number for him?”

  Bernie shook his head. “Figure he’s in the book. Can’t think there’d be more than one Darius Davis in Ogden. But if anyone knew Roy, it was him.”

  As Bernie locked up, and Jack and Ted got back in the car, Ted’s phone rang.

  “Ted Stratton.” His father furrowed his brow. “You need a meeting over that? … When? … Now? … We all need to be there? … Even the dog? I’ll need to call my wife. We can be there in twenty minutes. Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

 

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