“That went better than I expected.” Laura squeezed Jack’s hand.
“It was a suspended verdict. I’ll get a life sentence when he comes home.”
“I’m sure your father will have calmed down by then. Would you like me to heat something up for you?”
“No thanks.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Jack let his arms flop down on the table. “The police have been looking at other suspects. Vargas has been doing his job. I was wrong.”
His mother laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I don’t see it that way.”
“Because you’re my mom.”
“No.” She gave his arm a squeeze, but it was not just out of affection; there was urgency, too. “I love you because I’m your mom. I believe you’re right because you’re Jack.”
Jack sighed. “I was wrong, Mom. It’s that simple. I have no idea who killed Stacy Shaw.”
“Just because you haven’t figured it out yet doesn’t make you wrong.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think I’ve sat down and watched a movie or TV mystery in the past seven years that you haven’t solved before the end.”
“That’s different, Mom. Watching a crime show doesn’t make you a detective any more than watching The French Chef makes you a cook.”
“No. It doesn’t. But it’s a step in the right direction. So are all those books you read. So was the citizens’ academy class you took. How many times did you take that class?”
“Four,” Jack admitted. “They let you do ride-alongs.”
“Someday you’re going to have a name plate on your desk that says ‘Detective Jack Stratton.’”
“But what about now?”
“Right now solving this murder is someone else’s job.” She held up a hand and lowered an eyebrow. “You can’t investigate this murder anymore, Jack. After you go into the Army, graduate college, and the police academy, you’ll be equipped to investigate anything you want. And I’m sure you will be spectacular at it.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“All your father and I ask is that you stay out of the way of the investigation. Call Detective Clark if you think of something.”
Jack nodded.
“Good. Now, please, will you let me heat something up for you? You have to eat.”
Jack smiled at his mom. He knew she couldn’t be blind to his mistakes any more than his dad was, but here she was, just trying to take care of him. Still being a mom. “Yeah. Thanks, Mom. I’m going to go up to my room, but I’ll come back down for it.”
“I’ll bring it up to you when it’s ready.”
Jack only picked at his food, sitting at his computer. His throat felt thick and his whole body felt heavy. He knew he wasn’t coming down with anything; it was just his body’s way of registering his mind’s sensations of failure and shame. He picked up his notebook and glared at it. “Stupid,” he muttered, and tossed the notebook across the room and into the wastebasket in the corner. “Chandler was right. I never should have started helping in the first place.”
Defeated, he pulled up his email, and was surprised to see that he had received responses from both the fertility clinic and the hair salon. He opened the email from the fertility clinic first. Chandler was right again; they didn’t answer his question. Their reply was a terse one-sentence response: “Per policy, we do not comment on pending litigation.”
Jack opened the email from Luisa’s Luxe Hair Studio. They didn’t answer his question either—although they did include a coupon code for a discount on a Brazilian hot-oil treatment.
Jack stared at his computer. What am I doing? I can’t believe I opened those thinking I’d find something. I’m done. He shut down his email and then his entire computer. I can’t look at anything related to the case. I can’t think about the case. I can’t get involved in the case, or I’m toast. Besides, the cops have it under control.
He was leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling when his mother knocked on the door, holding the phone. She covered the receiver and said, “There’s a Betty Robinson on the phone who wants to speak with you.”
Betty Robinson? Why would she be calling? Jack had agreed to stop investigating the case, but if Betty had new information…
“Thanks, Mom.” He took the phone from his mom and waited for her to go back downstairs before answering. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jack. It’s Betty Robinson. You asked me to call you if I saw anything in that report for Right-A-Way Shipping.”
“Did you find something?” Jack’s heart skipped a beat. “And?”
“Yes. You were right—Leland was hiding something. One of the IT guys got me an old version of that file from the backup tapes. It was archived the night Stacy disappeared. Stacy had made several notes about discrepancies. It took a lot of digging to sort through what’s going on, but—well, the short story is…it looks like Leland’s embezzling.”
“No way. How?”
“By overpaying the insurance premiums. I guess he has a contact or a partner over at Right-A-Way, and they’ve been issuing the refund check to a shell company owned by Leland’s brother-in-law. It didn’t trigger any flags because the payment to Right-A-Way is legit; it’s just too frequent. He’s working the scam with other companies, too. He did it again this week.”
“Have you told anyone about this?”
“I’m calling Detective Vargas next. And I’m going to our CFO in the morning. I wanted to tell you first because…well, you earned it.”
Jack said quickly, “If you don’t mind—please don’t mention to Vargas, or anyone else, that I had anything to do with your research. I’m already in hot water.”
Betty chuckled. “I think I can understand why—you’ve got a way about you. Don’t worry. I won’t mention your name. But in my opinion, your digging turned up something really interesting.”
Jack exhaled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. If that son of a bitch murdered Stacy to hide what he was doing, you can bail me out after I kill him. And Jack…I still don’t understand exactly how you’re involved in this, but I’m glad you’ve stepped up. You probably saved a bunch of people’s jobs.”
“You have too, Betty. You stuck your neck out. Thanks again.”
Jack hung up and stared at his notebook splayed in the wastebasket. He had known something wasn’t right with Leland Chambers—and now the police would have to look harder at him. Maybe it would lead to something more. Chambers might have had motive. But…
Thinking about his list of whys, Jack realized that Leland’s embezzling answered several of the questions on that list, but not all of them.
He walked over to the trash can and stared down at the notebook.
Walk away.
Jack straightened back up and his shoulders slumped.
It’s not my case.
This time, he listened to that voice in his head and left the notebook in the trash.
Leave it to the police.
He took his plate and headed downstairs. As he washed his dishes, he felt the headache that had been percolating for hours begin to pound. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the aspirin bottle.
Betty said Chambers ran the scam again this week. If he killed Stacy, wouldn’t he take a break and lie low?
He could step away from his investigation, but apparently he couldn’t keep his mind off the case.
Chandler was right about the emails—the doctors won’t give up any information.
He set the aspirin bottle down absentmindedly. Privacy laws shouldn’t—
Jack stopped, the aspirin forgotten. He ran back up to his computer and read the email from the clinic again.
Pending litigation.
They said they couldn’t comment because of pending litigation—not privacy laws.
“What litigation?”
The telephone rang. Thinking it might be Betty again, Jack ran downstairs to answer it. It wasn’t Betty
.
“Jack?”
It took him a second to place the voice. “Two Point?”
“Gotta talk. Meet me at the ball courts.”
“Why?”
“I’m here now. Come on. It’s important.”
“Listen, Two.” Jack tried to lower his voice so his mother wouldn’t hear him. “I’ve almost gotten arrested—twice—all trying to help you and your brother. You’ve been jerking me around. Go ahead and sell J-Dog out, but I’m done listening to the lies.”
“I’m not lying, I swear.”
“You did before.”
“Not now, I want to come clean. You gotta believe me…”
Jack didn’t say anything. If he thought Two Point had anything remotely worthwhile to say, there still remained a decision to make about whether he should be involved.
“Listen, man, something bad happened to Jay.”
Uh-oh.
“He got stabbed this morning.”
“What happened?”
He heard Two Point’s breath catch in his throat. “It’s bad.”
Jack’s shock shifted to anger. “That’s on you.”
“I know. I know. Look, if you come…If you come with me, I’ll talk to that suit you know.”
“You’ll tell them it was you who found the wallet?”
There was a long pause. “Yeah.”
“If you’re playing me…” Jack threatened.
“I’ll tell them it was me. I swear. On my father’s grave. I swear. But you gotta come with me.”
Jack debated. He wanted to believe Two Point, but he’d been burned before. Still…
“Fifteen minutes.”
He hung up and set the phone down on the table, then spun it in a little circle.
His mother walked into the room. “You certainly are getting a lot of calls. Birthday wishes?”
“Kinda.”
“I’m going to watch a movie. Do you want to join me? I’ll let you pick.”
“Ah, no. Actually I’m going to take a ride.”
His mother’s eyebrows rose and she clutched the cross at her chest. He felt an answering wave of anxiety rise up at her familiar, anxious gesture, but then she surprised him with a totally unfamiliar gesture, a wink.
Stopping at the door she said gently, “I trust you, Jack. And… your father didn’t say anything about you being grounded. But just be careful. Okay?”
29
The Truth Will Set You Free
Two Point was pacing back and forth along the trees that screened the basketball courts at Hamilton Park, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. When he saw Jack get out of the Impala, he stopped.
Jack had left his house feeling a thousand times better than when he had entered it, a few hours earlier, about to face the judge and jury known as Ted Stratton. But the sight of scrawny, nervous Two Point, with his low-slung pants and gangsta pretenses, infuriated him.
“You ever lie to me again,” Jack stalked forward, “and I’ll knock your teeth down your throat and drag you in to the cops myself.”
Two Point took a step back. “What the hell, Stratton? I said I’d tell them it was me.”
“Well, start talking.”
“If they have pictures of me, it musta been at the ATM. No cameras in the park.”
“They have a picture. I’ve seen it. It only caught part of your face, and Jay’s jacket. Where did you get the wallet?”
“I found it.”
“Where? Describe it.”
“You know the fountain? It was close to there. Um, between some hills. It was pitch-black—”
“Where the light is out?”
“I don’t know. It was, like, dark dark. But I saw something sparkly. I walked over and it was a handbag.”
“It was just lying there?”
“Yeah. I figured someone dropped it. You know, some drunk chick or something? I took the wallet out and tossed the handbag.”
“Where?”
“Into the woods.”
“Did you see Stacy Shaw?”
“No.”
“What about anyone else?” Jack leaned in. “Was there anybody around?”
“Nobody. Nope.”
“Nobody at all. Not even on the way out?” Jack’s voice had dropped down to a low rumble.
“Some gutter bum.”
“Describe him. How tall?”
“I dunno. My height, I guess. It was dark, so it was hard to see. And I wasn’t trying to memorize him or nothin’.”
“Think.” Jack growled.
“He had a green Army jacket.” Two Point nodded. “Yeah. And a ponytail.”
Alex Hernandez.
“Was he walking away or toward you?”
“How would I know? I saw him earlier in the parking lot. Only one car there—slim pickins for me.”
“Okay, then what?” Jack asked.
Two Point wiped his forehead and sighed, as if all this telling the truth stuff was absolutely exhausting. “I looked through the wallet. The lady had written a PIN on her library card, so I thought she might use the same one for everything. I decided to try the ATM.” Jack wasn’t totally sure, but Tommy might have been looking a little ashamed here. “It didn’t work. After that, I went to hide my stash and I went home.”
“But…” Jack prompted.
“But I screwed up. When I went to my stash, I forgot the wallet was in the pocket of Jay’s jacket, and you know the rest. The cops found it and blamed Jay.”
Jack looked around the courts and the parking lot. It was a nice summer night, and the courts were busy. Jack didn’t want to be spotted with Two Point.
“You’re gonna go with me, right?” Two Point asked. “No cop’s ever gonna believe me. J-Dog don’t trust them either. He’s right. They’re not doing anything. They’re not even looking for the guy who really killed that lady.”
“And who stabbed Jay?”
“It was just random,” Two Point whined. “Just some guys at the Bay, took out some knives, and whoosh whoosh”—he slashed the air.
“He got stabbed because you put him in there! You served up Jay on a silver platter!” Jack started to pace. “The cops have the ATM picture, showing a guy in Jay’s jacket. The wallet’s in Jay’s jacket. Her blood on his shoes. To protect you, Jay confesses and says, ‘Yeah, it was me. I stole it.’ They don’t need to look for anyone else. You gave them everything.”
“But I never even saw the lady. Maybe the cops planted something on me, you ever think of that? They planted evidence. How else did blood get on my shoes?”
“She cut her foot open, you idiot. You must have stepped in her blood on the hill when you found the handbag. All they need is a trace, with DNA testing.”
“You have to tell the cops the truth,” Two Point begged.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Jack snapped. But something Two Point had said a moment ago was nagging at him.
“Wait a second…You went to your stash, but you didn’t put the wallet there. So you went to your stash with something else. What was it?”
“Nothing.”
Jack grabbed Two Point’s shirt and yanked him forward.
“What the hell?”
“Shut up and listen. I’m in no mood. Victor said you’ve been boosting from cars. The night Stacy was killed, did you rip off a car in the parking lot?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe, nothing. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of car was it?”
“Green.”
Jack waited.
Two Point’s shoulders crept up. “What? It had four doors.”
“Make? Model? Plates?”
“Aw, c’mon, man.” Two Point shifted his weight from one foot to the other so fast it looked as if he had to run to the bathroom.
“What did you steal?”
“I don’t remember.”
Jack’s eyes blazed and he shook Two Point so hard his teeth rattled.
“Okay, okay. Just a GPS.”
>
“Do you still have it, or did you pawn it?”
“I haven’t touched any of my stash since this all went down. In case the cops were following me.”
“Where’s your stash? Take me there.”
“What? I’m not telling the cops I was stealing—”
“Yes you are.”
“I can’t. The cops would know I violated my probation. What do you want with the GPS anyway?”
Jack’s hand tightened into a fist.
Two Point shook his head. “No way, Stratton. I’ll tell them I found the wallet, but I’m not taking you to my stash. You can threaten me all you want.”
Just then there was a rustle from behind the nearby trees, and Replacement walked right up, planted herself between the two men, and turned her back to Two Point. “It’s in the Grangers’ shed. I’ve seen him put stuff there. Behind some paint cans in the back. In a milk crate.”
“Shut up, you—” Two Point started to say, but Jack yanked him forward so they were nose to nose.
“Get this straight,” Jack growled. “This kid is Chandler’s replacement. In fact, we call her Replacement. You know what that means? It means what you do to her, you do to Chandler. You give her any lip, ever, for anything whatsoever and I swear the whole neighborhood will put you in a box. Do you understand me?”
Two Point nodded.
Jack turned to Replacement. “Thanks, kid. I guess your sneaking around isn’t all bad. But right now I think you should head home.”
Replacement looked up at Jack, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Then she dashed back into the trees.
Jack looked after her for a second, in amazement, then turned back to the business at hand. “This is how this works. Shut up. I’m not explaining. You’re giving me what you took from that car in the parking lot. And that will back up your story. Got it? Let’s move.”
The Grangers were an elderly couple, the husband in a wheelchair. They must not have entered the shed in years, and judging by the rusty creaks the door made when Two Point pulled it open, their hearing must be pretty much shot.
Two Point walked straight to the corner.
“You’d better pray it’s here,” Jack said.
Detective Jack Stratton Box Set Page 74