“Certainly. Thank you.” Jack followed the man inside.
It was a pleasant home, but he had a ton of lights on. Ben Nichols walked through a door to the left and into a large room with bookcases and a hefty, warm wood stove. Straightaway, Jack moved next to it. He rubbed his hands as Ben settled onto a tan couch.
“Are you making an official report?” Ben asked, thrilled about the attention.
Jack coughed. “Yes. Can you please explain in your own words the events starting just before you found the car, Mr. Nichols?” Jack took out his notebook. People loved it when you wrote down what they said and writing things down let Jack pay attention to the person. He could pore over the details later.
“I was out hunting near the Onopiquite Reservoir.” Ben’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, and he now sounded as if he were giving a televised report from some war zone. “I’d been out for a few hours when I first heard the kids. It was around three o’clock. There were five teens who were around a blue Honda Civic.”
“Do you remember where on Reservoir Road this was?”
“No, not exactly. They were due west of the reservoir.”
Jack continued to write.
“From a distance, I could see the teens were trying to start the car. I naturally assumed they’d just broken down, but as I approached to help, I could see the damage to the car. When they saw me, the perps fled the scene.
People loved to try to use police jargon and Jack tried to let it go, but the word slipped out. “Perps?”
“Perpetrators,” Ben answered but continued with his narrative. “I realized afterward that the car must not have been theirs, seeing as how they ran.”
“Can you tell me anything about the teens?”
“There were five of them. They were on snowmobiles. Two rode double. Umm…one had a red coat and another guy had a Roman thing on his head!”
“A Roman thing?” Jack stopped writing.
“Like a Mohawk? A gold one on his helmet.” Ben’s hands moved over his head. “Like a Roman soldier would wear.”
“On his helmet? Like a centurion?” Jack scribbled a quick picture of a Roman soldier’s helmet and turned the notebook around.
“That’s it.” Ben nodded.
“What about the one in the red coat? What else can you tell me about him?”
“It was a big red parka. The kid was very chunky. I think that’s why he rode alone. He was stocky. Fat.”
“Anything else about them? Jackets, hats…”
“Not really. They took off when I called out to them.”
“Have you ever seen any of them before?” Jack continued.
“I’ve seen kids snowmobiling out there a lot. I think I’ve seen the Roman kid too.”
“You ever see the car before?”
“No.”
“Was there snow on the car when you first saw it?” Jack stopped writing.
Ben thought for a minute. “Yeah, the windshield was covered. It was light. A dusting. There was even snow in the car. I remember because I looked in the back and—”
“Did you touch the car?”
“No sir. That could contaminate the crime scene.” Ben’s head shook back and forth.
“Did you notice anything else?”
Ben shook his head.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Nichols.” He closed his notebook.
“If you need anything, I’m always ready to do my part, Officer Stratton.” Ben stood at attention as he held open the door.
Jack paused. “Thank you, sir. If more citizens like you took the time to help us, it would make our job a lot easier.” Jack was glad Ben couldn’t see the smile on his face as he walked away. What he said was the truth, but when he said it out loud it sounded a little silly.
Replacement looked out the window, waiting for him to get back. “What did you find?” The image that he’d gotten a new puppy was now complete. She sat on her haunches and looked up at him with her big emerald eyes.
“Move it,” he said, trying to sound annoyed. Inwardly though, he smiled. I like my new puppy.
“What did he say?” Jack watched as she scooted across the seat without straightening her legs in a little reverse hop.
“When he got to the car, there were five kids who were snowmobiling around it. One had a weird helmet with a gold Mohawk on it. It should be easy enough to find out who that is.”
“You don’t think they’re involved, do you?”
“No. He said there was already snow on the windshield and in the car, so I think the car had been there for a while.”
He threw the car in reverse and then sped out to the reservoir.
The Onopiquite Reservoir was the size of a large lake. No boating, swimming, or fishing were allowed. Nevertheless, everyone overlooked the fishing ban because the fishing was so good. The reservoir sat at the bottom of a large, natural basin, shaped like a long serving dish. Reservoir Road circled the lake on the lower side of the basin, closest to the water, and Pine Ridge ran along the eastern ridge on the lip of the bowl. During foliage season, Pine Ridge saw a lot of traffic because the view of the lake down below with the reflection of the trees in its water was breathtaking. However, Reservoir Road saw very little traffic and almost none during the winter.
Jack slowed as they drove down Reservoir Road. It was now dark, and the lack of streetlights made it impossible to see anything beyond the headlights.
“Where did they find the car?”
“I don’t know. Ben Nichols just had a general description.”
As they drove up and down the road, nothing stood out. Jack shook his head.
“It’s too dark. I’ll call Sully and try to get a better description of the site the car was towed from.”
“Do you think we could just go and start searching the woods on foot?” Replacement kept her eyes closed.
“Kid…” Jack kept driving. What am I going to say? It’s been two weeks. It’s freezing, and you’re hoping she’s just out there waiting for us? “We’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”
Damn.
He tried never to promise anything.
I don’t know anything. I don’t know what the hell happened to Michelle. I don’t know jack, so how could I promise anything to anyone?
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and they sped back toward the highway. He shook his head. He didn’t need this.
Replacement didn’t seem happy when he pulled onto the highway and went past his exit.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“Why? I thought—?”
“You’re not staying at my place. I don’t know what you told Mrs. Stevens, but she won’t stay happy for long, so let’s leave her that way…happy.”
“She won’t care.”
“I do. It’s my place. You’re not far.”
“Far enough that you never came over.” She intended to hurt him, and that did.
“I’m not doing this now.” His voice was so crisp the words seemed to snap. It was true. Aunt Haddie lived an hour away, and he hadn’t seen her or Michelle since he came back. “I’m…”
I’m what? I’m a coward? Do I tell her I can’t face it? What the hell was I supposed to say to them? Apologize? Say I’m sorry he died? I’m sorry; it was my fault…
Jack glared at Replacement and was glad she was looking out the window. “Not now,” was the last thing he said for the next hour.
He pulled up in front of her apartment building, and she got out and walked away without looking back. Jack didn’t wait for her to go in. He pulled away, tires screeching. He drove half a block before he pulled back over.
Damn.
He shut off the engine. His fist pounded the steering wheel.
What’s she want from me? He was fuming. She’s not my sister. I’m only watching out for her because of Chandler.
While he debated with himself about what he was going to do, he grabbed the rearview mirror to stare himself down, but as he
moved it, he saw Replacement. She walked back down the steps of her complex and headed down the street away from him.
He turned and watched her go, and so did his anger. She looked small and vulnerable. His police training kicked in.
Where’s she going?
Jack grabbed the keys and followed her on foot. He tried to stay far back; there were few people on the street. He hugged the side of the building and walked at a steady pace, keeping his head down, and hunching his shoulders. Replacement never looked back.
She went a couple of blocks before she turned to the left. It was a business district, but everything appeared closed. This part of the town had seen better days, but it wasn’t dangerous.
Not dangerous? Anyplace can be dangerous. A girl alone at night—that was dangerous.
He saw her turn in to a doorway, and he silently rushed forward. He stopped and leaned against the building.
She cursed as she fumbled with the lock of the door. With a bit of anger, she threw it open and marched through.
Jack hesitated and then moved. He sprang forward and grabbed the door just before it locked. Holding it open an inch, he waited.
What was she doing?
After a minute, he opened the door and slipped inside the entranceway. The odor of mothballs and stale air greeted him. A hallway ran toward the back of the building, and an old worn staircase went up.
Three floors?
He tried to remember how tall the building was. He listened, and he heard a door open and then close on the floor above. On the wall leading upstairs was an old sign: STORAGE RULES, followed by a bulleted list of regulations.
A storage place? What’s she getting here this late at night?
This was an old office building someone had renovated into a storage facility. They were about as secure as locking something in your car. He shook his head.
As Jack went up the stairs, he moved along the edge of the wall to try to minimize any creaks; any sound would be loud in a building this quiet. On the next level, the worn wood floor ran straight back. The last door on the right had a bit of light creeping out from underneath it.
He could feel his face contort as he struggled to think of a reason Replacement would be here this late. He couldn’t come up with any plausible answer.
What’s going on?
He stood outside the door and debated whether he should knock or just try to open it. He tapped on the door.
“Replacement?” He listened to the silence. “Replacement?” he whispered again, and this time he heard movement from the other side of the door.
A couple of soft footsteps and then the door slowly opened a crack. Jack wished it hadn’t.
Replacement’s head appeared, but she refused to look him in the face.
Her lips trembled. It wasn’t from anger or fear; it was from shame. He could see it in her eyes. The same look he’d seen so many times in his own, he knew it well.
Jack put his hand on the door and gradually opened it.
A storage room. It’s more like a closet.
His anger rose. He was angry with himself. He knew or at least he should have known.
She said Aunt Haddie was in a nursing home so she couldn’t live with her. She didn’t mention any friends and what was she, nineteen? She’d be out of the foster care system. This explains the showers every time she came over. She has no other place to take one.
Jack looked at the sleeping bag on the floor. There was a small table with a little light. Three green bags were in one corner and a couple of boxes in the other.
“The homeless shelter…you know some of the freaks who live there are weird.” She looked down sheepishly. “Aunt Haddie tries to give me money when she can, but this…this is just temporary…I mean, I don’t need much.” She looked around.
He imagined this small nineteen-year-old girl at a homeless shelter, and he clenched his teeth.
“Things will change.” She smiled at him. The smile was so forced, but there was some glint of hope. That little bit of light cut right into Jack.
A closet in a storage facility. She’s living in a closet.
“Yeah.” Jack cleared his throat. “It’s temporary because it’s over. From now on, you’re staying with me.”
She looked up at him.
“Hand me a couple of things and I’ll go get the car.”
She started to tremble. Jack stepped forward and pulled her close.
Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.
Her arms started to rise as if to give him a hug, but then stopped and dropped loosely to her sides. Jack hugged her tighter. Her arms shot out and wrapped around his waist. He patted her back. He held her for a minute. Then she stepped back and rubbed her eyes.
Jack reached in and grabbed the trash bags. “I’ll get the car.”
By the time he returned, she was already waiting for him. Everything else she owned was in the two boxes at her feet.
“Not much of a life.” The shrug that accompanied her words cut Jack to his core.
“Your new one starts today, kid. Come on; let’s go.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’
Jack looked down at the table and froze.
It’s a dream, Jack. Germany. Before you shipped out to Iraq. Chandler’s about to come over to the table…
“Hey, Jack.” Chandler’s voice was happy. “You gonna have any?”
Chandler held up a plate covered with scrambled eggs as he tried to fit his large frame into the small booth.
Jack looked at his friend and couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes and wake up. He remembered the day. He knew he was dreaming but he didn’t want to stop replaying the memory.
“In a minute.”
“The best part of this German food is breakfast.” Chandler flashed a big grin.
“You’re like a giant hobbit. What’s this, your second breakfast?” Jack chuckled.
“I’m a growing boy.” Chandler shrugged. “You know, if we were home right now, Aunt Haddie would be waking us up singing, ‘Oh, what a beautiful mornin’. Oh, what—’”
“‘A beautiful day. I got a beautiful feeling everything’s goin’ my way.’” Jack smiled. “Yeah, how could I forget?”
“Do you remember her fire drills? She’d get freaked about having so many kids in the house, she’d have those mock evacuations. All of us standing out on the sidewalk, freezing, while she did a head count.” Chandler started choking a little as he laughed.
“She woulda made a hell of a drill instructor.”
“Remember that one where you and I decided to go out the window and slide out over the porch? She nearly killed us.” Chandler chuckled as he tried to keep his food in his mouth.
“We had to copy that entire fire safety book.”
“My hand still hurts.” Chandler jokingly flexed it.
“Don’t forget why she did it, big man. She always said, ‘Keep your eyes on the exit whenever you go someplace new and be prepared.’ Guess she made us ready for this.” Jack sighed and stopped laughing.
Chandler tried to change the subject. “Hey, I have it all figured out what I’m going to do when I get out.”
“We haven’t even left Germany. Then we have to get through Iraq, and you have it all figured out?”
“I’m going to be a teacher. I want to teach math.”
Jack burst out laughing.
“Thanks, jerk.” Chandler tossed down his fork. “I thought the plan was we both go in and get money for college.”
Jack put his hands behind his head. “I just came to watch your back.”
“Yeah, but it’s been the other way around.” Chandler grinned. “Seriously, do you think that’s stupid?”
“No. My dad’s a math teacher. Did he bite you or something? Made you some sort of math zombie?”
“He gave me the idea. It’s a great job. Help kids. You get the whole summer off.”
“It’s not stupid.” Jack held up a glass of orange juice as
a toast. “I just don’t know how any kid is going to have the guts to ask a question with you standing in the front of the room.”
They both laughed.
“Seriously.” Jack kicked back the last of the orange juice. “You’d make a great teacher.”
“Do you like eggs?” Chandler asked with a big smile.
“Do you like eggs?” Jack heard the words again, but he struggled to try to stay dreaming.
“Up you go. Get up, sleepyhead,” Replacement commanded as she pulled the blanket off him. He grabbed it, but she still caught an eyeful. “Wow, I didn’t know that you slept au naturel. Nice butt.”
“Get out—now.” He was tempted to stand up and give her the full show, but from the look on her face, he didn’t think she’d back down, and he’d be the one to get embarrassed. “Can’t you wake me up nicely?”
“I try. I start off really gentle, but you won’t wake up. So I have to escalate it. You could snore through a train wreck.”
“I don’t snore.”
“Sure.” She tilted her head at him. “I made breakfast. Get dressed now, nudist, or I’ll eat it all.” She laughed as she sprinted out of the room.
Jack wrapped the blanket around himself and went to the bathroom. He pulled on some sweatpants and then he smelled the eggs.
She made me a hot breakfast.
Jack had just about given up on ever having a hot breakfast again. When he had to work the night shift, his mornings suffered, and he frequently woke up in the afternoon. He never liked to eat breakfast later in the day, so the meal was slowly being worked out of his diet.
He yanked open the bedroom door and saw the kitchen counter set with two places. Replacement stood there grinning like the Cheshire cat with a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. She wore a big old Fairfield High School shirt. Jack walked around the counter and saw that the shirt was all she was wearing.
“Knock off surprising me in my bedroom and go put on some pants.” He shook his head. “That stuff is weird.” Jack couldn’t bring himself to frown because he was so happy about breakfast, so he settled for trying to look stern.
“You like scrambled eggs?” She pushed a large plate toward him that also had four pieces of buttered toast.
GIRL JACKED (Crime and Punishment Mystery Thriller Series) Page 11