JACKS ARE WILD

by Christopher Greyson

  Jack begrudgingly nodded.

  Replacement looked wide-eyed at him before she closed her mouth with a huff.

  Jack parked in front of the tattoo parlor. Even though it was early, six people sat around the tables; Shawn stood behind the counter.

  Jack put his hand on the car door handle and looked back. “How do you want to play this?”

  “You start the conversation. Then follow my lead.” Kiku’s smile fired up his curiosity.

  They all exited the car and, as they headed toward the door, a man rode his bicycle down the sidewalk. Jack walked forward, held out his hand, and pointed to the road. The man swerved off the sidewalk, making Replacement giggle.

  Kiku held the door open for him. “After you, Officer.”

  Jack walked through the door; Shawn shook his head. He stood up straight as Jack walked closer. “She hasn’t called or nothing.”

  “No one has?” Jack put both hands on the counter as Replacement swung over to his left side.

  Shawn gestured to the group and then shrugged. “Nobody has seen her. Total radio silence. I’m starting to get a little freaked out.”

  Kiku stepped forward. “Perhaps you can be of some assistance to me, then.”

  Shawn looked her up and down, gulped and then shrugged. “Sure. How?”

  “I do not plan to return to Japan in the foreseeable future but want to add to my Irezumi.” Kiku pulled down the shoulder of her shirt to reveal part of an elaborate tattoo.

  Shawn’s mouth made a popping sound as it fell open. His hand shot out and hovered just above the skin.

  “Is that Tebori? Real Tebori?”

  Kiku smiled. “You know your craft. It is.”

  The men at the table moved to get a look at whatever Shawn was so excited about, but Kiku pulled her shirt back up.

  “They use bamboo, right?” Shawn’s voice rose.

  Kiku grinned. “Sometimes. Mine was done with steel. Do you have a moment to hear my proposition and see?”

  “See?” Shawn almost danced from one foot to the other. “Can I see the whole thing?”

  Kiku nodded and looked around.

  Shawn hurried over to the curtain to the back rooms and held it open. As Kiku sauntered by him, he looked desperately back at Jack. “Can you just…tell people I’ll be back?”

  Jack nodded.

  Damn, she’s good.

  Replacement leaned over to him and whispered, “I think he’s more excited about seeing her tattoo than seeing her naked.”

  Jack followed Kiku with his eyes. “He’s an idiot.”

  Replacement stepped on his foot.

  Jack winced.

  “Oops.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Kiku pulled aside the curtain and walked out. Shawn hurried after her, hovering just behind.

  “Marisa is the only one who could touch that tat. Seriously.” His shoulders went down, he bent his knees slightly, and his hands went up. “That’s just…wow. I’ve never seen…that was freakin’ unbelievable.”

  Kiku nodded. “Thank you.” She looked at Jack and tilted her head toward the door.

  Jack walked over to the exit. “If she calls, you call me.”

  Shawn was already moving toward the guys hanging out at the tables. “I will. I’ll call.” He turned around to his friends. “She has a real freakin’ Tebori. They did it with steel. That’s one tough chick but her skin was so perfect…”

  Jack headed to the car and grabbed the door for Replacement. She jumped in and turned around to talk to Kiku. “Nothing?” Replacement frowned.

  Kiku shook her head. “He is very nice but not bright. I doubt he had anything to do with it.”

  Jack started the car. He was glad they had ruled out Shawn but, still, it left another place Marisa was not.

  Where is she? Who has her?

  Replacement, who was still kneeling, put her head down on the seat. “Are you sure? Just because he’s stupid doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.”

  “He is very excitable and went on and on about wanting to start his own tattoo parlor. It was not even his idea. It was his girlfriend’s. Marisa gave him a raise last month, and he has practically given up the idea already anyway. It’s a dead end.”

  Jack gripped the steering wheel.

  Poor choice of words.

  It could have been worse

  Jack paced back and forth across the living room floor, regretting ever letting Kiku and Replacement go for some takeout. He stomped into the bedroom and looked at the clock: 6:15 p.m.

  Where the hell are they?

  He plodded back into the living room and dialed Replacement’s number. Again, there was no answer; her voicemail kicked on.

  They said half an hour.

  “When you headed out, you said you were coming right back,” Jack barked into the phone. “With all the crap going on, you’d think you’d give me a flippin’ call back.”

  Jack almost heaved the phone out the window; instead, the police scanner he left on 24/7 clicked on.

  “Car 63?” the dispatcher’s voice crackled over the radio.

  “Copy,” a man’s voice responded.

  “We got a 10-70 in progress at 18 Winston.”

  “10-4.” CLICK.

  Jack stood in the middle of the floor as he gawked at the scanner. He shook his head, angling his ear so it was pointed directly at it, but the scanner was now silent.

  10-70. No. There’s no way they called a 10-70 at 18 Winston.

  As Jack turned to head out the front door, it flew open. Replacement raced through and headed straight for the bathroom. He turned to hurry after her.

  “Hey,” he called out.

  “One second.” She made it to the bathroom and closed the door before he got there.

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been calling you for over an hour.” He tried to turn the handle, but she’d locked the door.

  “Sorry, I shut my phone off,” she yelled before he heard the water turn on.

  Jack straightened up and sniffed.

  Gasoline.

  The odor was strong and distinct. He reached on top of the doorframe to push down the little rod to unlock the door. His hand shook in anger as he jiggled the lock until it opened. Replacement shrieked as the door swung open. She stood in the shower, fully dressed, with the water soaking her clothes.

  “I’m in the shower,” she pleaded.

  “With your clothes on.” Jack stomped in and slammed the door shut.

  “I’m going to take them off, so you have to leave.”

  “Where were you?” Jack’s body shook.

  “We…Kiku and I…we had to do stuff.”

  “Stuff? Stuff? I just heard a 10-70 over the scanner at 18 Winston.”

  Replacement’s shoulders slumped. “Is a 10-70 a car fire?”

  “Yes. Yes it is. And since you wouldn’t know a radio code if it bit you on your ass…did you torch that car?”

  She lowered her head sheepishly.

  “That’s arson. Do you realize that?”

  “I didn’t do it.” She held her hands up and waved them back and forth.

  “Kiku set the car on fire? DAMN IT, DAMN IT!” Jack pounded the sink; everything on it jumped. His hands balled into fists as he pressed them against his forehead. “You drove my car. My Impala. You drove my car to go…commit arson.”

  “I didn’t know that she was going to do that.” Replacement looked down and rubbed her hands together. “At first we headed over to Arber’s. She said she was going to pay him a visit, but he wasn’t home so we headed over to his mother’s house.”

  “Why did you go there? Do you realize how big of a mistake that was?”

  “It would have been worse if I didn’t go.” Replacement stuck her chin out.

  “Worse? How could it POSSIBLY be worse if you DIDN’T go?” Jack threw his hands up.

  “Because if I wasn’t there, Kiku would have put Tina IN the car and THEN lit it on fire.”

  Damn it.

  Jack shook h
is head in frustration. Her lip started to tremble.

  “Don’t cry. Please don’t.” Jack’s hands went out.

  Replacement’s hand smacked into her wet jeans as she burst into tears.

  “Stop. Stop.” Jack pulled the curtain back and then shut the water off.

  She grabbed him and pulled him close. Her wet clothes instantly clung to his. She buried her face in his chest as he rubbed her back. After a couple minutes, he leaned back and lifted her chin. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “You should get out of those clothes.”

  “I will. You have to get out first.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Please don’t tease me.” She pouted.

  Jack let go of her as he walked to the door. “Why did you jump in the shower with your clothes on?”

  “I got gas all over them. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to just leave them on the floor.”

  “They’re not gonna burst into flames.” Jack exhaled. “Where’s Kiku?”

  Replacement shook her head. “She said she needed to go back to her hotel room.”

  As Jack walked out, he shut the door and then stormed into the kitchen to grab his phone. He stared blankly down at it before he stomped back to the bathroom. As he reached for the handle, he hesitated. He knocked on the door.

  “Stay out,” she answered.

  “I know. Do you have Kiku’s number?”

  “It’s in my phone.”

  “Where’s your phone?”

  “Kitchen counter.”

  Jack thundered back into the kitchen to search her address book for Kiku’s number. The phone rang once before she picked up.

  “How mad was he?” Kiku answered.

  “WAS?” Jack growled. “I’m beyond mad.”

  “I am sorry, Officer.”

  “You made her an arsonist.”

  “Accomplice. She just drove.”

  “Not funny, not funny at all,” Jack snarled.

  “I respect you, Officer, but you are not my keeper.”

  “Listen, we’re looking for Marisa. Until then, don’t kill anyone.”

  Jack shut the phone off and tossed it on the counter.

  Watch your back

  Jack paced the floor while Replacement sat at the computer. Every few minutes, the police scanner would click on; Jack would stop and listen. Afterward, he’d resume his pacing. He checked both phones again before he set them down on the counter. “Nothing,” he said with disappointment, and then opened the cabinets.

  Where the hell is that bottle of vodka?

  “Have you heard from Kiku?” Replacement called out over her shoulder.

  Jack looked at the stove: 9:45 p.m.

  “No.”

  “What’re you looking for?” she asked as he started to close each cabinet a little harder every time.

  “The vodka Kiku brought by. I want a Kamikaze.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” Jack let the cabinet close with a thump.

  “I need your head in the game. You drank last night. No.”

  “You don’t get to dictate if I drink or not.”

  Replacement swung around in the chair. “What if something happens and we need to go out? Do you want to be one hundred percent or sloppy?”

  Jack glared at her.

  “Damn. Fine. Where is it?” he persisted.

  Replacement turned to the computer. “I drank it.”

  Jack laughed. “Shut up. There was more than half a bottle. You’d be—”

  The police scanner kicked on. “Car 17. Code 13 at the Imperial.”

  “10-4,” a man’s voice responded.

  Jack walked over to the scanner while Replacement looked up.

  “What’s that in English?” she asked.

  “Suspicious activity at the Imperial Motor Lodge. I think it was Tom Kempy.”

  Jack walked over to his phone, but before he could pick it up, it started to ring.

  “Jack?” Kendra asked as he answered.

  “What’s up?”

  “Are you anywhere near the Imperial? Just got a 911 from a guy who saw an Asian woman being chased by three big guys. He described all three as looking Italian.”

  “On my way.” He grabbed the police scanner.

  Replacement was already moving for the door. Jack snagged his jacket as he flew down the hallway, out the door, and over to the Impala. Replacement leapt in, and the tires squealed as he sped away from the curb.

  “The Imperial is on the west side of town. If I head around downtown and cut by the graveyard…six minutes.”

  “Do you think it’s Kiku?”

  “Has to be. I should have had her stay.”

  The light was red but Jack hit the gas and whizzed through it. The roads Jack selected were deserted, but they also had some sharp curves. The Impala could fly, although she tended to slide into the corners, so Jack frantically worked the gas and brakes as he barreled forward. He hit redial and waited.

  “Jack?” Kendra picked up. “Tom’s driving around but he saw nothing. They’re ghosts.”

  “He get any description of the car? Direction?”

  “No.”

  If they’re at the Imperial, downtown is east, Hillside Downs is west, and the highway’s south.

  He turned the Impala toward the graveyard as he sped up. The Old Meeting House graveyard was over two hundred years old and consisted of small hills cut into terraces. The small, single-car road twisted through the middle of it while the Impala now shrieked as Jack struggled to keep it on the pavement.

  “There.” Replacement pointed to the right. Jack saw the sweep of headlights briefly gleam behind one of the small hills.

  He’d driven through the cemetery on a hundred patrols, scaring off teenagers who used the solitude of the graveyard to hide from prying adult eyes. He gritted his teeth as the wheels slid next to the edge of the road, skimming a ten-foot drop-off. Replacement clung to the ceiling handle, and he could see the color drain from her cheeks.

  As he rounded the corner, he saw a large sedan come the other way. He slammed both feet down on the brakes. The Impala growled in protest as it tried to grip the pavement. The other car did the same. He heard Replacement gasp as she pulled herself up and braced for impact, but the Impala’s nose dipped so low the front bumper scraped the ground; sparks flew. Jack gripped the wheel with both hands, and the car finally stopped.

  As the car settled back, bouncing off the shock absorbers, Jack looked into the terrified faces of the two men in the car in front of him. He saw Fat Man driving, and Big Nose in the passenger’s seat.

  The Mancinis are in town.

  “Move over to the driver’s seat,” Jack said quickly. “If anything happens, get the hell out of here.”

  Replacement looked at him, her face still pale, but he knew—there was no way she’d leave without him.

  He opened his door at the same time the back door of the sedan opened. The cars were stopped at a dip between two hills, and Jack noticed there was less than six inches between them.

  I cut that a little close.

  Paolo stepped out of the rear door and closed it behind him. The big fat guy driving let the car slowly roll back as Paolo walked forward. The car stopped after ten feet, but no one else got out.

  Jack nodded.

  Paolo did, too, as he folded his hands in front of him.

  Jack waited.

  Shut up and wait for him to talk.

  Paolo tilted his head. His weathered face looked even older than it had only a few days ago. “Have you found out anything?”

  Jack nodded. “She hasn’t used her credit cards or phone.”

  “Is that all you got?”

  “Has anyone contacted you?”

  Paolo just stared back at him.

  “I’m looking for her, too, Paolo. It’s not about Omerta.”

  Paolo laughed. “I can’t stand those movies. I’ll give you some free advice. If you don’t know about some
thing, you shouldn’t talk about it. It makes you look stupid.”

  “I know you don’t talk to cops, but—”

  “That’s what it means. Omerta. We’re men. We handle it ourselves. You’re a cop, so I’m not going to you or anyone else.”

  “I’m not a cop. Not anymore. I’m suspended.”

  Paolo’s bushy eyebrows knit together; he clenched his jaw and appeared bear-like.

  I see why Marisa called him Orsacchiotto, but he looks like the kind of bear that rips your head off.

  “We got a call. One word. Darrington,” Paolo admitted.

  Why would…don’t think about it now. Get Kiku.

  “I need a favor, Paolo.”

  Paolo raised an eyebrow.

  “You have a woman with you, and I need her.”

  As Paolo took one step forward, Jack was surprised the ground didn’t shake when he stomped down.

  “Why would you ask for her?” The low challenge echoed in the darkness.

  Fat Man and Big Nose got out of the car and repositioned themselves in front of the hood.

  “I don’t think she—”

  “You don’t think?” Paolo held up a trembling finger.

  “I need her to find Angelica.”

  “So do I.” Paolo looked him up and down. “She’s with them. She’s Yakuza.”

  “I know. But she doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Paolo walked right up to him. Jack may have been a lot taller, but he felt smaller before the barrel-chested man.

  “You don’t know jack. Do you know why she’s here? Her name is Kiku Inuzuka. She’s Takeo’s pit-bull.” He stuck his finger in Jack’s face. “You went to see Takeo. We know.”

  Damn.

  “You must have alarmed him because he sent his personal pit-bull. When you went to Takeo, you put him on notice. If anything happens to Angelica, he expects you’re going to come after him for revenge.”

  The realization of what he had done hit Jack like diving into ice water. His chest tightened, he tilted his head back, and his eyes narrowed.

  Paolo tapped his temple as he leaned forward. “Think. Do you believe Takeo’s just going to sit there, waiting to see if you kill him? That’s not the kind of man Takeo is. He doesn’t wait to see how someone will act; he acts first.” Paolo thrust his hand back at the car. “I’m saving your life. She’s an assassin. She’s your killer. She was sent for your head.”