It was starting to get dark so once they got out of town he punched it. His Impala’s gas pedal was about as sensitive as a moody schoolgirl. The difference between going twenty and one hundred twenty miles an hour was about half an inch. He knew how she ran, and she never left him stranded. 185,768 miles and she still purred.
He decided to give Replacement the look that said, “Don’t worry, I can handle driving this fast.” One glance at her and he could tell she loved speed and was grateful they were getting there fast.
They towed Michelle’s car. That means she didn’t have the car for a while. That isn’t a good sign.
It made no sense she’d go to California, but part of him wished she had. She’d be safe then. The alternative was not good.
He thought back to leaving Chandler and Michelle and going to live with his new parents. Could she have done that? Would he blame her? Didn’t he do the same thing when he came back from the army? He abandoned them.
But I was selfish; Michelle was good. He chalked his selfishness up to pain. What a pansy I am. Michelle must have been hurting just as much as I was, more so, and I know she wouldn’t have left.
He barreled into a turn and the car strained against the chassis. Too fast. He was going into a slip. Everything slowed way down. His adrenaline kicked in, and the world seemed to freeze. He loved this feeling. Cut the wheel go with the skid. His training was taking over, kinesthetic muscle memory. Dancers, athletes, martial artists all strive for it. If you perform a motion often enough you teach your muscles to move; when the time comes, the muscles repeat the motion on their own, almost independently of the brain.
Jack was smiling, but when he glanced at Replacement, both of her hands were grabbing the oh-crap handle on the ceiling of the car. He still accelerated into the turn. It went against instinct to speed up as the car was going into a slip, but if you didn’t you’d spin out.
As they straightened out, he relaxed his grip on the wheel but noticed Replacement hadn’t settled back into her seat. Her knuckles were turning white on the handle. He forced himself to slow down.
“I . . . I’m sorry about driving so fast. I just . . . I just want to find Michelle.”
Replacement adjusted her grip on the handle. “Me too. Punch it.”
Jack stomped on the gas. He raced the rest of the way there.
Jack stopped in front of the two large gates to the auto yard. A thick chain and padlock were in place. Replacement jumped out the second the car stopped. He gave three loud blasts on the car horn.
She ran up, grabbed the gates and peered in. “Why is he closed?”
As he walked along the ten foot tall, rusted, barbed wire fence, Jack inspected the cars, desperately searching for the blue Honda Civic like a mother frantically scanning faces of people as she looks for her lost child.
Found it. Jack’s jaw clenched.
The roof of the car was partially smashed in.
The car must have rolled over at least once.
Replacement looked back at him and then followed his eyes to the car. Before he could stop her, she pulled the gates as far apart as the chain would allow and squeezed her slender frame through the gap.
“Replacement.” He grabbed the fence. “No, no, no!” The warning came bursting out like a machine gun as he dashed back. His arm reached through the gate, and he tried to grab her, but she was too fast and Jack was too bulky to fit through the opening. “Stop!” He tried not to yell, it was more of a shouted whisper.
It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d screamed; he knew she was fixated on Michelle’s car. As she ran up to it, Jack could see the windows were both down, and the windshield was broken. The front end was damaged, and pieces of headlight and bumper were gone.
“Replacement!” Jack attempted to get her attention again, but she was staring at the car.
Then he heard the jingle of the bells.
He pulled at the gates, but he couldn’t break the chain, nor fit through.
“RUN!” Jack could always yell loudly, even as a little kid. Sheer panic amplified this yell. It was so loud it broke through the dark cloud that Replacement was in, and she looked up.
Jack saw the huge pack of dogs. He couldn’t even count the number of animals that raced toward her. Junkyard dogs—muscular, enormous beasts that were as mean as they come. They made no noise except the ringing of the little bells around their collars. He saw her body tense for the run back to the gate. The dogs must have sensed the hunt was on because they roared and when they did, she froze, her eyes wide with fear.
She’ll never make the gate.
Jack stared as the beasts drove forward, mouths open as they rushed to tear her to pieces.
“GET IN THE CAR,” Jack shouted. He took one look at the barbed wire at the top of the fence and knew he couldn’t climb over it in time.
“GET IN THE CAR!”
Replacement tried to open the smashed car door. It creaked, but it didn’t budge. Jack could hear the dog’s claws on the frozen ground now.
“IN,” he ordered.
She scrambled through the open window. Jack saw her legs vanish inside the car. He could only watch as the huge, snarling dogs chomped at the window where their prey disappeared. Their open jaws snapped, and they barked and scratched at the car. Baying and yelping in frustration, they howled and circled it.
The biggest dog Jack had ever seen put both of its front paws on the open window and rammed its giant head in. Jack heard Replacement screaming and saw her kicking again and again. Her feet were slamming into the beast’s head, but it wouldn’t back away.
Jack’s chest muscles strained as he pulled the gates open as far as he could. He rammed his body between the gates. His upper body went partially through before he became stuck. He struggled to pass, but the metal refused to move. He roared louder than the dogs in a fusion of desperation and fear.
The dogs stopped circling the car and looked as one to the sound of the challenge. They snarled, and their claws raked the ground. The giant alpha dog howled, and the pack turned to hunt their new prey.
The pack trotted toward Jack and broke into a run. Jack smiled. He succeeded in luring them away from Replacement. He pushed to move back through the gate, but found that he couldn’t budge; he was wedged fast. His legs strained, and he pressed at the gates, but his upper body stayed where it was. He tried to plant his feet, but they slipped on the frozen dirt.
The dogs closed the distance. Jack’s shoulders burned as his back muscles went into overdrive. His shirt ripped open, and the metal slashed his skin. He growled, heaved, and tore himself free just as the dogs smashed into the fence. They howled in frustration now that both their prizes seemed outside their grasp.
“Donner! Blitzen!” An old man dressed in dark blue overalls rushed into view. “Comet! Heel!” The dogs turned and raced toward the man. They nuzzled up against him, eager for praise because they had protected the junkyard.
Jack winced as he got up. All the buttons were gone off the front of his shirt, and his chest was scratched and bleeding.
“That you, Jackie?”
Why older people referred to him as Jackie he’d yet to figure out. The old man walked over and unlocked the gate. Jack darted through and headed for the Civic.
“What the hell were you thinking, boy? Heel,” the old man snapped as the dogs started to growl. “Move slow, boy.”
“Sorry, Sully.” Jack had to force himself to slow down and not run to get to Replacement. “I’m here about the blue Civic and my friend ran in to check it out.”
“What? Is your friend stupid, crazy, or both? You never go past the gate at Sullivan’s. Doesn’t everybody know that?” Sully shook his head, and his wild white hair bobbed back and forth. “Go check to see he ain’t bit. If he is, it’s his own darn fault.”
Jack jogged over to the car and found Replacement curled into a tight ball on the front seat. He grabbed the door and yanked it open.
“Kid,” he whispered, “Are you okay?”
His voice was calm and soothing.
He touched her back and her arms shot around his neck. She sobbed and buried her face in his shoulder. He lifted her from the car and cradled her in his arms, his back to Sully.
“What kind of daisy is your friend, Jack? Is he bit or not? Either way, tell him to man up.”
Jack felt Replacement go rigid, and he smiled. She still has fight in her so maybe she’s okay.
“Man up?” She wriggled her way out of Jack’s grasp. “I’m a woman you killer dog owning psycho.” She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. Jack noticed a small cut on her chin and another on her cheek.
“A girl. I’m so sorry, honey.” Sully went as white as his hair and looked like he was about to faint when he realized his mistake. “Jack, what the hell is wrong with you?” he grumbled, and his legs wobbled. He looked like he was having a heart attack.
“Me?”
Replacement rushed to the man’s side and took him by his hands, concern for him all over her face. How she could go from one extreme to another perplexed Jack. One second he thought she’d punch the old man in the face, and now she rushed to care for him. She shot an angry glance at Jack, but as he tried to approach, the pack growled as one.
“Easy, boys. Sit, sit!” Sully pulled one hand free from Replacement and waved at the dogs.
“Let me help you back inside,” Replacement offered as she took him by the arm. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”
The old man grinned like a schoolboy at the attention and let her begin to lead him into the trailer. “You got cut up. I have some bandages inside.”
She led Sully back to the office as Jack followed at a slight distance, and the dogs followed him. The dogs were very well trained. He might as well have been under guard. If he got too close to Sully, the dogs would growl. If he lagged too far behind, they’d growl. He tried his best to follow at the right distance.
The office was what you’d expect for a junkyard trailer office. It smelled of a mixture of mildew, cigarette smoke, and motor oil. There was a small counter and a desk covered in greasy papers. An old TV was turned on full blast across from a worn-out chair. A little space heater provided a surprising amount of heat and Jack was grateful since he could no longer zip his broken jacket, and, because his shirt buttons were gone, he’d been walking around bare-chested.
Sully had Replacement sit in the portly old chair while he switched off the TV. “Sorry, I’m a bit deaf,” he apologized.
He’s probably deaf because the TV is so loud.
“What brings you out, Jackie?” Sully asked Jack the question, but he kept looking at Replacement. “You want a soda?” He moved over to the small brown refrigerator in the corner.
“Sully, I’m not here officially, just yet.” Jack added the last part as he noticed the old man’s puzzlement. “I’m looking for my missing foster sister.”
Sully’s eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard. “Missing? I’m so sorry, Jackie.” This latest bit of news caused him to pale even more. “How can I help?"
He handed a soda to Replacement and offered another to Jack, who mumbled a thank you and put the soda in his coat pocket. Jack already wasn’t looking forward to going back outside, but he didn’t want to do it holding a cold can.
“The blue Honda Civic.” Jack cocked his head in the direction of the car. “What can you tell me about it?”
Sully reached into a drawer and took out a box of bandages. He offered them to Replacement, but she waved them off.
“That one? Found her on Reservoir Road. Totaled. Bent frame. Some kids must have rolled her.”
“Kids? Who found it?”
“A hunter called it in. He was out on the reservoir looking for deer and said he saw a group of kids trying to start it. He thought they were stuck, but when he went to give them a hand, they all took off. Murphy said he figured we’d get the story when she showed up stolen. I hadn’t heard anything, so I was going to check back with him.”
I knew it. Murphy you stupid bastard.
Billy Murphy was half a cop. If he weren't the County Commissioner’s son-in-law, he wouldn’t even be that. He had his own carpentry business and worked part-time as a cop for extra money. He did mostly on-call stuff, like traffic details. Sheriff Collins couldn’t stand him and neither could the other police officers. The work was slow here, but the other cops took it seriously at least. Murphy working the car explained the error line in the police database.
That jackass started to run a site inspection, screwed it up, and didn’t run it again.
“Did he go through the car?” Jack tried to mask his frustration.
“He gave it a once over. We picked up some pieces of it off the road, and I brought it all back here. It sure is banged up, but she started. It was just some kids, right? They okay?” Jack could see the older man was concerned. It wasn’t his fault that Murphy was lazy.
“Is it all right if I go take a look?”
Replacement jumped out of her chair and moved to the door.
“Sure, Jackie.”
Sully went first and shooed the dogs away as the three of them walked back to the car.
Kids? This didn’t make sense. Jack was fuming and couldn’t wait for Murphy to try to explain it.
He took a deep breath and decided to start on the inside of the car. Besides little piles of broken glass, the car was clean. The keys were still in the ignition. He opened the glove compartment.
Owner’s manual, a pair of sunglasses, and some tissues.
It was worthless to dust the car for prints. It had lightly snowed off and on for the last couple of weeks and the car would have gotten soaked, erasing any fingerprints. Jack walked around to the trunk and stopped.
He closed his eyes and inhaled. He could only smell the faint odor of gasoline. He looked over at Replacement, and she was still peering into the inside of the car.
His hand trembled.
Please God, don’t let her be in here.
Jack opened the trunk.
It was empty.
He exhaled.
Jack pulled the trunk closed. “Were you there with Murphy when he first saw the car?”
“No. I arrived a little after he got there. It wasn’t real stuck. I turned her over, and she started right up. Ben Nichols.” He jumped as he shouted the name. “I couldn’t recall who called. It was Ben. He was bow hunting.”
“Where can I find him?” Jack reached for his notebook that was normally in his uniform pocket and frowned when he realized it was in his car.
“He lives over on Juniper, big white house. You’ll go past Weston on the way back to town. Turn right on Weston, go half a mile, and take a left onto Juniper. He’s on the right. Got a couple canoes off to the side, you can’t miss it.”
“Thanks, Sully.” Jack offered his hand. “Listen, can you do me one more favor?”
“Sure Jackie.” He shook his hand.
“Call Murphy and tell him the car’s still here. Tell him to check that it’s in the database. Just don’t say I was here.”
Sully gave him a questioning look.
“I don’t want to embarrass him since he must have forgotten.”
I don’t want to embarrass him; I want to kill him, but this way Collins still won’t know I’m looking into this.
Sully turned to Replacement. “Sorry about the dogs.”
“Thank you for the soda, sir.” Replacement’s eyes stayed on the car for a moment. Her shoulders slumped, and then she turned and headed toward the Impala.
Chapter 13 ~
Anyplace Can be Dangerous
“Where’s Reservoir Road?” Replacement asked as she shivered in the passenger seat.
Jack took a hard right. Replacement looked at him. “The hunter’s place is on the way. We need to interview him and see what he knows first and then we’ll check out where they found the car.”
Jack lifted a knee against the steering wheel and breathed into his hands to warm them a bit.
He blew
past a stop sign, and Replacement gave him a surprised look. He ignored it. They were running out of daylight.
The hunter said he saw kids run off, but why would they have Michelle’s car? Did they steal it? Were they driving it or did they find it like that?
His knuckles on the steering wheel turned white as they sped on.
He slowed down when he saw the canoes. He pulled into Ben Nichols’s driveway. “Stay here.” He left no room for argument as he got out of the car. He left it running to keep her warm, but something bothered him about leaving Replacement in his car with the keys in it.
She scooted over to the driver’s seat before he shut his door.
“You’re not coming with me. It will look weird,” Jack tried to explain.
“You should say that again,” she answered. “You look like a Chippendale’s dancer.”
Jack looked down at his jacket and shirt, both torn open. He frowned.
Great, I look like an idiot.
Jack’s hands went up, but he was too embarrassed to thank her. He popped the trunk. After going through his gym bags, he pulled off his jacket and shirt and put on a police sweater. It was so cold he had to force himself to breathe. He grabbed his notebook and pen.
It was starting to get dark.
He shot Replacement a do-not-move look as she sat smiling in the front seat. Shivering, he jogged up to the house.
The door opened as he approached. A short, bald man with thick glasses stood in the doorway. The man had a blank stare on his face and his eyes looked odd.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
Jack froze. He forgot he was a good ways out of town, and different people lived out here. Ben Nichols’s left hand was visible, but his right wasn’t. Jack noticed the muscles on the right side of his neck stood out.
A little guy meeting me at the door with that face and the way he’s standing? He’s a hunter. Odds are there’s a shotgun in his other hand.
Jack angled his body so Ben could see the word POLICE printed across his sweater. “Mr. Nichols.” Jack forced himself not to move his hands. “I’m Officer Jack Stratton. Sully over at the auto yard said you called in the abandoned car report on Reservoir Road. I came out here to thank you.”
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