Detective Jack Stratton Box Set

by Christopher Greyson

  Jack debated about just saying his mother was a drug addict. That was partly the truth. “Because she was one of them. She was a hooker. And an addict.”

  Kelly pulled her hand back.

  Jack stiffened. So much for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but.

  Kelly sat for a long minute, staring out the window.

  Jack knew this was a lot more than most people could handle, and tried to break the tension. “I can just picture your father’s face when you tell him that one.”

  Kelly snapped out of her daze, reached over, and took Jack’s hand. “Like I said, I’m not my father.”

  Jack searched her face. He expected to see scorn, but there was none. His fingers drummed the dashboard. “You don’t think less of me?”

  “Do you think less of me because of the way my father acts?”

  “No.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  “Seriously, I hope this wasn’t too much of a buzz kill,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Kelly slid over until her body pressed against his. She leaned against his chest. “No. It hurts to think that you had it so bad.”

  “Lots of people have had it worse.” He put his arm around her.

  Kelly murmured, “So you rescued a little old lady?”

  Jack’s breathing clicked up a notch. He nodded.

  “You chased the guy and almost got stabbed?”

  He raised his hand as if he were taking an oath. “All true.”

  He thought for a moment of his father’s speech, his mother’s warning, and Aunt Haddie’s words, but then he looked into Kelly’s blue eyes and he felt like Superman, and Kelly was matching his heat with a smoldering stare. For a moment they couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

  He felt for the small scratch on his side just above his waistband, the one he’d hidden from Chandler and his parents. “Actually…” He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. “I think the knife may have nicked me.” He lifted up his shirt so she could see his side.

  “Oh, Jack,” she purred with concern as she searched for signs of injury. She gently touched above the scrape.

  His skin tingled at her touch.

  “Does that hurt?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. But maybe you should feel… all around. You know, just in case.”

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Slowly, she ran her fingers along his chest muscles. Every trail her fingers traced sent electricity rippling along his skin.

  His chest rose and fell faster as her eyes locked with his. Then she leaned in and kissed him.

  A ripple traveled from the crown of Jack’s head to his feet, and his veins surged with warmth; he felt wanted.

  Her kisses were long and slow. Jack slipped his fingers into her hair. The wispy blond strands felt like silk. As they kissed, he tasted her lip gloss—cherry. Jack had a new favorite flavor.

  After a few minutes, Jack felt something vibrate. He opened one eye and noted with amusement that the windows had fogged.

  Kelly pulled back and smiled shyly. “My phone.” She pulled it out of her pocket, pressed the silence call button, and tossed it on the floor.

  Jack pulled her close. “You taste like cherry mixed with spring.”

  “You smell like musk.”

  Musk? That doesn’t sound good. What the heck is musk?

  Kelly’s phone vibrated again. “What now?” Kelly moaned, fearing the worst. She grabbed her phone off the floor, scrolled through her texts, and cringed. “My father’s freaking out.”

  Jack looked at the clock. “Why?”

  Kelly swallowed. “He saw us on the news when they took J-Dog.”

  That couldn’t be good.

  She turned to Jack with an I-don’t-want-to-but-I-have-to-go look.

  Jack hoped his forced smile didn’t betray his extreme frustration. “I’ll take you home.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Jack started the engine and backed out of the parking lot.

  Kelly texted her father back as Jack drove her home. When they pulled into the driveway, it looked as though every light inside and out of the Dawson home had been turned on. Jack parked the Impala, but before he’d even shut the engine off, the front door flew open and Mr. Dawson stormed down the steps, followed closely by his wife.

  Mr. Dawson pointed toward the house. “Get inside, Kelly. Now.” His order was just below a shout.

  Begrudgingly, Jack got out of the car. He didn’t know whether he was crazy or brave, but he felt he had to face her father. “Mr. Dawson—” Jack started to say, but Mr. Dawson stormed around the car and cut him off.

  “How dare you?” Mr. Dawson jabbed his plump finger in Jack’s face.

  Jack looked down at the red-faced man and fought to control his own temper. He understood the man was upset; he realized that he was a father with a beautiful daughter and clearly something had set him off.

  “You took my daughter to Washington Heights?”

  Of all the possible offenses Jack thought he was going to be accused of committing, taking her to Aunt Haddie’s wasn’t even on the list. “What?”

  “Get the smirk off your face before I knock it off,” Mr. Dawson snapped. “Don’t try to deny it. We saw you on the news.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t going to deny it. I grew up there and—”

  “Now my daughter’s picture is plastered across the TV for all my friends to see. She was surrounded by all those—” He ground his teeth together as though he were gnawing on the word he really wanted to use.

  Jack straightened up. “All those what?”

  My family. When Aunt Haddie and the Washington Heights community brought him in, he’d been living like a feral child for seven years, he couldn’t speak in sentences and was used to sleeping in the corner on the floor. When Aunt Haddie brought him in, he’d bonded with her in a way few could understand. Jack didn’t see prejudice like Mr. Dawson’s as an opinion, he saw it as an attack on his family.

  Jack stepped forward. “Say what you’re thinking. Sir.”

  Before Mr. Dawson had time to answer, Mrs. Dawson intervened. She put her hand on her husband’s arm and urged him back.

  Mr. Dawson took a deep breath and stepped away from Jack. His purple face looked dangerously close to popping.

  “Those people are my family and friends,” Jack said.

  “Don’t make this a racial thing,” Mr. Dawson said.

  “I think you just did.”

  Mrs. Dawson stepped next to her husband. “We were concerned for our daughter after seeing her on the news.” Jack looked over at Kelly, who had ignored her father’s command to go inside and was standing on the steps, doing a silent cheer. Give me a J! Give me an

  A! …

  “I think we’ve all had our fill of excitement for the evening,” Mrs. Dawson continued. “Why don’t we call it a night?”

  Mr. Dawson spun around and stomped up the steps past Kelly.

  Mrs. Dawson watched her husband disappear inside. She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Good night, Jack,” she said. She walked over to her daughter and put an arm around her shoulders, and the two of them started inside.

  Jack jumped into the Impala. He looked over at Kelly, but her back was already turned away. He fired up the engine, dropped the car into drive, and slowly rolled down the hill.

  When he reached the street, he hit the gas.

  7

  Driving Aunt Haddie

  Jack pulled into Aunt Haddie’s driveway the next morning. As he walked up to the house, Michelle danced outside, followed by the shy girl with the ponytail on top of her head and emerald-green eyes. What was her name, anyway?

  “What’s up, my brother?” Michelle hammed it up and gave him a high five.

  “Hey, Half-Pint.”

  “Chandler’s not here.”

  Jack stopped short. “Where is he?”

  “He had to help Mr. Emerson get a refrigerator.”

  Jack g
roaned. “I was hoping we’d work out.”

  “You shoulda called first,” Michelle said in a singsong voice.

  “The big creep could’ve let me know he was going out.”

  The girl with the ponytail stepped toe to toe with Jack and thrust her chin out. “Don’t call Chandler a creep.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared up at him.

  Jack swallowed a laugh. “Whoa. Easy there, killer.” He held up his hands. “I’m just busting on him.”

  “Well…” She wrapped a curl from her ponytail around her finger. “Don’t.”

  Michelle put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Jack, this is Replacement.”

  Jack grinned at the odd nickname. “Hey. Nice to meet you…Replacement. Hard head you’ve got there.” He felt a little throb in his forehead, remembering their encounter on the landing the night before.

  Replacement huffed, but didn’t step back.

  Jack turned back to Michelle. “Is he coming back anytime soon?”

  “Not for a couple of hours.”

  “Let him know I was here. Tell him to get two miles in today.” Jack turned to go.

  “Hey, don’t go yet. Aunt Haddie wants to see you. She called your house this morning. Your mom said you were coming, so she’s expecting you.”

  Jack sighed. Here comes the lecture about going down to see who got arrested last night. He trudged into the kitchen, debating whether to look humble and apologetic or stand up straight and take it like a man.

  “Jackie.” Aunt Haddie hurried down the hallway, her handbag bumping against her hip with each step. “I’m so glad you’re here. Would you mind giving me a ride?”

  “Sure.” Jack exhaled, relieved. “But I have to be back by noon. Kelly’s having a cookout and, amazingly, I’m invited. Kelly had to beg her mom to let me come, so I have to be there.”

  “We’ll be back before then,” she assured him.

  “Actually, I’m not eager to attend. It’s weird her father okayed my invite. Where do you need to go?”

  “Long Bay.”

  Jack’s smile dropped. “Long Bay Prison?”

  Aunt Haddie nodded. “With Mrs. Martin.”

  “To see J-Dog?”

  “Don’t use street names,” Aunt Haddie chided. “As you are certainly aware”—she stuck out her chin and leveled a laser stare—“Jay got arrested last night. They are holding him at Long Bay until he’s arraigned. Mrs. Martin needs to see her son.”

  “They put him in the Bay?” Jack asked. “What did he get arrested for? Was it something to do with the Stacy Shaw disappearance?”

  Aunt Haddie’s brow wrinkled. “I’m certain he had nothing to do with that poor woman.”

  “But it was Detective Vargas who arrested him. He’s the lead on that investigation.” Jack tipped his head to the side. “That’s a big jackpot if he’s involved.”

  “He’s not. Jay just found the woman’s wallet. It’s a misunderstanding.”

  “Found it?” Jack scoffed. “You don’t get arrested for finding a wallet. Is that what they took out of the house?”

  “It is, and I think that’s enough questions for now. If you’re going to give me and Mrs. Martin a ride, let’s get on with it. And I’m sure Jay will be glad to see you too.”

  Jack snorted. “Jay doesn’t want to see me.”

  “I know you two have had your differences, but he’ll want to see a friendly face.”

  Jack pointed at himself. “When it comes to this face and Jay, there’s no ‘friendly’ involved. I can’t stand him, and he hates me right back.”

  Aunt Haddie inhaled slowly and once again leveled her gaze at Jack.

  Jack swallowed. Not even his father could match Aunt Haddie’s stern look. Her stare pinned him in place and he didn’t even think about trying to look away.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Aunt Haddie said. “I know Jay went through a troubled patch, but he’s been trying very hard to fly right since his father passed on last year. I want you on your best behavior.”

  Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, ma’am.”

  A sweet smile stretched across Aunt Haddie’s face, and she squeezed his hand.

  They walked out the door. Michelle and Replacement sat talking on the steps. Aunt Haddie stopped in front of Replacement. “Please watch out for Michelle until we get back. It could be a couple of hours.”

  “I will, ma’am.” The girl nodded and squared her shoulders.

  Jack shot a puzzled look at Michelle, which she answered with a wink. Jack followed Aunt Haddie to the car and held the door open for her.

  The Martins lived only four doors down. He pulled to a stop in front of the Martins’, but instead of getting out, he angled his thumb back toward Aunt Haddie’s. “You’re putting that kid in charge of Michelle?”

  “Don’t you remember how good it made you feel to have responsibilities?”

  “Is that how you remember it?” Jack chuckled.

  “Every child needs structure. Replacement’s a born protector.”

  “Replacement? I thought you shouldn’t use street names.”

  Aunt Haddie pinned him with her eyes again. “There are exceptions to some rules. Her real name is Alice, but right now…right now she’d prefer to be called something else.”

  “But Replacement? For a second there I thought Michelle called her Placemat.”

  “Don’t tease, Jackie. Besides, Chandler picked out the name for her.”

  “Figures,” Jack muttered.

  “Oh, don’t be silly, it’s sweet. And the important thing is, she likes it.”

  “What’s wrong with her real name?”

  Aunt Haddie folded her hands on her lap. “Her given name is Alice. When she first came here, every time I spoke to her, she’d start to cry. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Chandler solved that riddle. Alice was named after her mother, who died. Every time she heard the name Alice, it cut her to the quick.”

  Jack nodded. “Okay, but why Replacement?”

  “Her first night here, she ran into a closet and wouldn’t come out. I tried to talk to her and so did Michelle, but she wouldn’t budge. We couldn’t believe it when she let Chandler in. He sat down on the floor with her. He knew what she was going through because he lost his parents too, you know. He understood her, and she got him. They talked for almost an hour. Then he gave her a nickname to make her feel like she belonged.”

  “I don’t get how being a ‘replacement’ makes her feel like she fits in,” Jack said.

  “You would if you’d let me finish,” Aunt Haddie said sternly. “Chandler said to her, ‘I’m going in the Army, and I need someone to fill my shoes. You’ll have to watch over Aunt Haddie and keep an eye on Michelle until I get back. But while you’re doing that, everyone’s going to treat you how they treat me. You’ll be my replacement. Do you know what that means? No one will pick on you, because you’re my replacement. It means all the kisses and hugs Aunt Haddie gives me, she’ll give you. It means all the cool stuff my sister Michelle does with me, she’ll do with you, because you’re my replacement.’” Aunt Haddie’s voice filled with pride. “After that, she’d only respond to her new nickname. That poor little angel. She’s been through hell, so don’t you go teasing her. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They got out of the car and approached the Martins’ house. It had seen better days. The paint was peeling and the lawn needed to be mowed. Jack could just picture what Mr. Martin’s reaction to that would have been if he were still alive. Mr. Martin had been the opposite of Jay. He wasn’t the type to start yelling; he’d just go grab a paint can and get the job done. He was the kind of man who was always working on his house. The paint was always fresh and the lawn groomed. He put on a light show every Christmas and displayed flags for the Fourth. Life had been hard for Mrs. Martin since his passing.

  She came out the front door as Jack and Aunt Haddie walked up. A petite woman with graying hair, she stood on the top step, clutching a s
mall purse.

  “Morning, Mrs. Martin,” Jack said.

  “Good morning, Jackie.” Her voice was soft. “Thank you for doing this. It’s very nice of you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. Jackie’s glad to help.” Aunt Haddie let go of Jack and took Mrs. Martin’s arm.

  “Thank you so much, Haddie. I’m just worried sick. Do you think Jay’s okay?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” she said reassuringly. She steadied Mrs. Martin as they walked to the car.

  Jack opened the back door and Mrs. Martin got in. Aunt Haddie sat in the backseat next to her friend.

  Mrs. Martin’s smile was thin. “I hope he’s been getting some sleep.” Her voice was just above a whisper and her bottom lip trembled. “He’s always been such a light sleeper. When he was small, I had to get his father a different alarm clock because the ticking would wake my little boy up.”

  Aunt Haddie rubbed Mrs. Martin’s back. “He’ll be okay.”

  “You go sit in the front, Haddie. Jackie will be uncomfortable chauffeuring us around like this.”

  “Nonsense, Charlotte.” She patted the woman’s hand. “You don’t mind, do you, Jackie?”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s like Driving Miss Daisy in reverse.” He tipped his head as he slid into the driver’s seat and slipped into his best Morgan Freeman impression. “We’ll get going right away, ma’am. You two just sit back and try to relax.”

  The ride to the holding facility at Long Bay Prison was painfully slow for Jack. In the backseat, Aunt Haddie tried to comfort Mrs. Martin, and Jack could hear a muffled sob now and then.

  Aunt Haddie held on to Mrs. Martin’s hand and prayed. “The Lord will work it out, Charlotte.”

  “I know, I know,” Mrs. Martin said.

  “How’s Tommy taking this?” Aunt Haddie asked.

  “Badly. He didn’t come home last night. I called over to Nina’s and all his friends’, but no one’s seen him. I’m so worried about him. It’s strange—before their father’s death, Tommy was so well behaved. Jay was the one who was always getting into trouble. But after Aaron passed… well, Jay’s gotten his life together. He got a job, he worked hard and got a promotion. He’s a delivery driver now. But Tommy, it’s been just the opposite. His father’s death just…just knocked him off the tracks, you know? Like flipping a switch. He won’t listen to anyone. And now this.”