Detective Jack Stratton Box Set

by Christopher Greyson

  “Is this paper just local?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You have no idea what my boss is going to do if he sees this.”

  “I don’t know what your boss will do, but mine already called. The mayor wants me to let him know what ‘new lead’ I found. The problem is, I don’t have one. You got some new evidence, and you don’t share it with me? I’ve got to read about it in the funny pages?”

  “I never told that reporter I found anything new . . .” Jack trailed off.

  “You talked to a reporter? Real smart.”

  “It was off the record.”

  “Yeah, reporters always keep their word. What exactly did you tell him?”

  “Nothing. I said I was doing family research.”

  “He’s a reporter. A bottom feeder. Right up there with lawyers. Do you know the difference between a reporter and a catfish? One is a scum-sucking bottom feeder, and the other is just a fish.” Dennis laughed at his own joke. “Live and learn, boy. Live and learn. Never talk to them.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” Jack said. Someone had just shot at him, and now everything was blowing up. The fewer people who knew information right now, the better.

  “Jack, listen . . . I need to solve this case too. I know he was your father, but he was my best friend. I don’t know if you know what that’s like, but there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about your father. And every time I do, I remember that the bastard who killed him is still walking around, drawing breath. Every time I see his mother . . .” Dennis wiped his eyes. “My dad didn’t live long enough to solve this, but I need to. For both of them.”

  Just then, Replacement bounded out of the inn and down the steps.

  Dennis waved at her. “All right. I’m going to go talk to Franklin about this mess. But if you find something, anything at all, you let me know, okay?” He headed back to his car.

  Replacement rushed over to Jack. She glanced at the departing police chief. “Let’s talk in the car,” she whispered.

  Once they were in the Bug, she asked, “Where were you this morning?”

  “I wanted to go out to the pond. Then . . . I went for a run.”

  “You look like you went for a roll. You’re all muddy.”

  Jack cleared his throat. He knew how protective Replacement was, but he couldn’t think of a way to ease into the fact that someone had tried to kill him. “Someone took a shot at me out at the pond.”

  “They tried to punch you?” She laughed. “What a dope.”

  When Jack didn’t return her smile, Replacement’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean took a shot at you like . . . shot a gun?”

  Jack gave her an it-coulda-been-worse grin. “They missed.”

  Replacement grabbed him by the jacket and checked him over. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Jack held her hands. “I told you, they missed. I chased after them, but they got away.”

  Replacement just stared at him. And the longer she went without saying anything, the more nervous Jack became. She gripped his hands tighter. “Are you trying to tell me that you chased a guy who had a gun and tried to kill you with it?”

  “I have a gun, too.”

  “You risked your life.”

  “That’s my job.”

  “Jack . . .”

  He expected her to yell. To scold him. To tell him he was foolhardy and irresponsible. He braced himself for her arguments and prepared his mental rebuttals. But when her chin started to tremble, he was caught completely off guard.

  “I’m fine,” he said softly.

  He opened his arms to show her, and she shot forward. Her arms wrapped around his waist. She pressed her face against his chest.

  Jack held her and rubbed her back. He let his chin rest against her soft hair, and he closed his eyes. He felt his whole body relax. The memory of the gunshots faded. A sense of relief and comfort swept over him. She made him feel good, and it had been so long since he’d felt that way. He let himself relax into her.

  A sudden tapping at the passenger window made them both jump. A tall woman dressed in a short miniskirt and a tight, low-cut blouse stood by the car.

  Jack did a double take. “Kristine?”

  Replacement rolled down the window, and Kristine’s words rushed in. “He wants to meet now. At the Walmart. Before he goes to work. We go with the plan. You follow me.” She turned on her four-inch heels and rushed to her car.

  “Go. Go.” Replacement put on her seat belt.

  “Where? What plan?”

  “Follow her.” Replacement pointed. “Walmart.”

  Kristine zoomed out of the parking lot, and Jack followed.

  “What’s with the new costume?” Jack asked.

  “She’s undercover. Scary thing is,” Replacement said, “she looks a lot like your old girlfriend, Gina. Remember her? The crazy one? She’s . . . Hey, stop smiling.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t smile when I talk about an old girlfriend; you should frown or something.”

  “I wasn’t smiling about Gina. I was thinking about when you chased her out of the apartment. But hold on. Where—”

  “Speed up! You’re losing her.”

  Jack jammed the gas pedal to the floor. The little engine whined in protest. “What’s going on?”

  Replacement’s grin quickly vanished. “Well . . . You weren’t here, so I couldn’t ask—”

  Kristine’s car took a hard left. An SUV cut between Jack and her.

  “Crud.” Jack hit the brakes and threw his hands up.

  “Don’t lose her!”

  The light ahead turned yellow. Kristine darted through the intersection, and the SUV sped up as if it planned to follow.

  Jack hit the gas. But at the last second, the SUV driver braked hard and stopped at the light.

  Swearing, Jack slammed on the brakes. Replacement grabbed the roof handle. Tires skidded behind them, and Jack grimaced as he braced for possible impact. The sedan behind them stopped in time, but the young driver’s eyes were huge and his face was white.

  “We’re losing her!” Replacement shouted.

  Kristine’s car took a left and disappeared.

  “Why doesn’t she stop?” Jack said. “Call her. Call this whole thing off until you explain to me just what the hell is going on.”

  Replacement took out her phone and punched in a number. “Terry Watkins chatted with us this morning,” she explained. “He said he wanted to meet Patty, aka Kristine, today. I thought—”

  “Seriously?” Jack laid on the horn. The guy in the SUV flipped Jack off.

  Jack threw his door open. “Pull forward—NOW!” he ordered, using a voice trained by the United States Army to give commands that would be obeyed.

  The SUV pulled forward enough to let the Bug by. Jack zipped through the red light. But the road Kristine had turned down was now empty.

  “She’s not picking up her phone,” Replacement said. Kristine’s answering message clicked on, and Replacement spoke. “Kristine, abort the plan. Jack wants to talk first.”

  “Use your GPS to find the Walmart,” Jack said. “Now, what’s this plan?”

  “Kristine agreed to meet Terry after work. We figured we could go over the plan with you when you got back. I thought we had plenty of time. But Terry must have changed the time.”

  “But what’s the plan?”

  “Kristine goes undercover as Patty!” Replacement said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “She doesn’t even look like Patty.”

  “She’s close enough. Seriously—same height, blue eyes. Besides, it’s been almost thirty years. He’ll think she’s Patty ’cause I used Kristine’s picture for her profile.”

  “So she meets him. Then what?”

  Replacement smacked her forehead. “Crud. Her phone’s in the back of her car. That’s why she’s not picking up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Replacement switched
to the GPS. “Take the right up here.”

  Tires screeched as Jack flew into the turn. Replacement’s knuckles turned white on the ceiling handle. “Do you two realize she’s meeting a killer?” Jack said angrily. “This isn’t a game! Call her again.”

  “She won’t pick up. We rigged her phone in the back of the car to record his confession. Like an undercover camera.” She pressed some buttons. “I’m connecting to it now.”

  Jack had to restrain himself from ripping the steering wheel off. “You can’t record them. It’s not admissible! Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

  Replacement’s green eyes flamed. “Yes. I do. Kristine does, too. She loved Steven. She still feels responsible in a way. She wants to get the guy too. She’s the one who came up with the plan. Turn here—there it is!”

  Jack turned in to the Walmart. Both of them frantically searched the parking spaces out front, but Kristine’s car wasn’t there. Jack drove around to the back of the building and slowed at the corner.

  “There.” He pointed. Kristine’s car was parked in the back corner of the lot. Next to it was a tan Audi. The Audi was empty, and two people sat in Kristine’s car.

  Jack pulled up behind a dumpster. His fingers drummed the steering wheel. “I have to stop her. If Terry did have something to do with Steven’s murder, this is way too dangerous.”

  “We’re right here if something happens, Jack. You have to at least give her a minute. Wait. I’ve almost got it.”

  Replacement held out her phone so Jack could see. The screen flickered, and the inside of Kristine’s car appeared, and a little bit of their faces in profile. “It’s like a one-way chat, but I can record it,” Replacement explained as she turned up the volume. Jack was impressed with Replacement’s skills and astounded by the image quality.

  “No. No, you look great, Patty.” Terry sat in the passenger seat. “Wow. Really great.”

  “It’s been a long time. I’m surprised you remembered me.”

  “Of course I remembered you. I just didn’t expect you to reach out to me.”

  It looked to Jack like Terry was ogling her up and down, and there was no mistaking the innuendo in his voice. “Wow. I can’t believe it’s been almost thirty years. You wrote that you’re still dancing? I mean, that’s great. You still have the body for it.”

  Kristine cleared her throat, and Jack felt the bile rise in his own.

  “It pays the bills,” Kristine said.

  “Listen, I’m really glad you’re back in town. So . . . do you need some help again?” Terry leaned closer.

  Jack felt his fists clenching.

  Terry reached into his pocket and took out an envelope. “It’s two hundred dollars. I figure you’ll return the same favor for it?” The way he said it, and the way Kristine leaned away, made it very obvious what the “favor” was.

  “What?” Terry’s voice went up. “I’m not paying more—” He stopped. “You’re not Patty!”

  Jack threw his door open and sprinted across the parking lot. Replacement was right behind him. They closed the distance in seconds. Jack ripped the car door open and dragged Terry out.

  “What is going on here?” Terry’s eyes darted from Kristine to Replacement and settled on Jack. “This is a mistake. I don’t know her. I thought she was someone else.”

  “Shut your mouth, you low-life pervert,” Jack growled.

  “You’re not the police,” Terry said, stepping back. “If this is one of those got-you sting shows . . .”

  “It’s not,” Jack said. “But I am going to the police.”

  Terry’s face went white. He looked as if he was about to throw up. “Wait a second. Just wait. You can’t—I—Here.” He held out the envelope. “Take it.”

  Jack smacked it away. “I don’t want your money. Patty Cole is my mother.”

  “Wha—? Patty’s your—your mother?” Terry was shaking now. “I helped her, man. I was her counselor.”

  “Helped her?” Jack spat the words. “Patty came to you. She was a child. A child who asked for your help. And what did you make her do for it?”

  Terry took three strides backward. “You can’t prove anything. I’ll deny it. The police won’t believe you.”

  “I bet your wife will,” Replacement said.

  “My wife will believe me.” Terry thrust his thumb at his own chest.

  “Maybe your wife will believe her own lying eyes.” Replacement held up her phone. “I’ve got a video recording of your meeting with ‘Patty’ here. I hope your wife takes you to the cleaners in the divorce.”

  Jack glared at Terry. “My mother came to you for help, and you used her.” His eyes shot daggers, and his voice was ice-cold. “I should kill you right now.”

  Terry trembled. His gaze darted from Kristine, to Replacement, and back to Jack. Then he turned and ran.

  Replacement grabbed Jack’s arm. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

  Kristine buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders trembled and she began to cry. “I’m sorry. I tried. I didn’t get a chance to make him talk about Steven.”

  “He didn’t kill Steven,” Jack said. “Patty came to Terry after Steven was killed. She wanted to leave town. That’s why she took the money.”

  Kristine pressed the heels of her hands against her face. “Then . . . this is a dead end?”

  Jack nodded.

  Kristine hung her head. “So now what do we do?”

  Jack watched Terry disappear around the corner of the Walmart. “We dig deeper,” he said.

  31

  Warp Speed

  “Why?” Jack asked. His voice was low and hollow. They were following Kristine’s car back to the inn—and driving much more slowly than they had on the way here.

  “Why what?” Replacement touched his shoulder.

  “Everyone Patty turned to treated her like garbage.” Jack gritted his teeth. “She couldn’t catch a break. Her scumbag father. People using her. Then she goes to her guidance counselor and . . . seriously? Do girls . . . ?”

  They pulled up behind Kristine at an intersection, and Jack looked over at Replacement. He saw the hurt in her eyes. If I ever catch the guy who hurt you . . .

  “Oh!” Replacement took out her phone and started to type.

  “What now?”

  “Mrs. Ritter. I totally forgot. I don’t want her to read the paper.”

  “You’re texting her?”

  Replacement laughed. “No. There’s no way she has a smartphone. I’m texting Kris.”

  “Who?”

  “Kristine. She told me her friends call her Kris. Did you know she stops by Mrs. Ritter’s every week?”

  The light turned green, but Jack didn’t move. The car behind them honked.

  Replacement looked up. “What? Jack, what’s wrong?”

  Jack didn’t answer. He stared straight ahead. “No way,” he muttered.

  He jammed the gas pedal to the floor. The Bug sprang forward so fast the whole frame shook and Replacement grabbed the handle on the ceiling. “You’re completely freaking me out!”

  “I have to get back to the inn.”

  “At warp speed?”

  Jack flew past Kristine’s car. Replacement looked out the passenger window and shrugged as they zoomed by. They blasted through a stop sign and veered into the wrong lane. Cars were swerving to get out of the way. The Bug tilted as Jack hit the next turn, and the rear end fishtailed. Jack pumped the brake and jammed the gas.

  When they reached the inn parking lot, he slammed on the brakes and skidded into a spot. Then he bolted out of the car and sprinted for the inn.

  Replacement called after him, but he kept running. He raced up the front steps, and thundered up the stairs. The door to their room was propped open, and when he charged in, the young cleaning woman gasped.

  “Sorry,” he panted. “We’re all set. Out you go. Thanks.”

  After she scampered out of the room, Jack rushed to the desk and grabbed the yearbook. He was sc
anning the pages when Replacement burst in.

  “What was that all about?”

  Jack didn’t answer. He just kept flipping through the yearbook.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “You said that Kristine goes by Kris, right?” He turned the last page in the book, then flipped back to one in the middle. “That got me thinking about our Terry.” Jack slammed the yearbook down and jammed his finger on the page.

  “Theresa Cook?” Jack was pointing to the picture of an attractive girl with big, poufy hair. Replacement’s eyes widened. “Terri with an i.”

  “Exactly. She’s the only Theresa in the book.” Jack clenched his fists. “I thought Patty was talking about a boyfriend. I never thought . . .”

  “Jack . . . How do you know—”

  “It’s her.”

  “Slow up. Just because she’s the only Theresa doesn’t—”

  Now it was Kristine’s turn to rush into the room. She flopped down on the loveseat, completely out of breath. She’d taken off her heels somewhere along the way. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Did you know Theresa Cook?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah, sort of. The Cooks live over near the dump. I went to school with her brothers, Billy and Bobby. Twins.”

  “Did people ever call her Terri?”

  Kristine’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “I thought so,” Jack said. “Was she friends with Patty?”

  “I don’t know. The Cooks were the back-of-the-class types. They smoked and hung out near the dugouts. There was another sister, too, but I can’t remember her name.”

  “Do they still live there?”

  “Yes. It’s a big white farmhouse—just take a left before the dump. But you can’t go there. Those guys are bad news. Both of the Cook twins have been in and out of jail ever since high school.”

  “Then you two stay here,” Jack said, and ran out of the room.

  “Wait! We’ll all go!” Replacement called after him.

  When Jack reached the lobby, he saw that Kristine had dropped her keys on the front counter. He covertly picked them up and slipped them into his pocket.