Jack of Diamonds

by Christopher Greyson

  Kendra looked Alex and Yana up and down. Alice didn’t know if she was frisking them visually or perhaps even debating doing so physically, but in the end, she nodded and Shawna began herding everyone through the kitchen doors.

  Boomer rolled his eyes. “Do you really expect us all to—ow!”

  The door swung shut behind them, and the awkward silence returned to the living room.

  Alice started to sit down on the recliner, but Alex shook his head. “Sit with us? Please?”

  As soon as she settled between them on the couch, Alex dropped a thick, hairy arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. He kept apologizing as his eyes welled up. “Sorry. Sorry. Yana said I shouldn’t be so clingy, but I just can’t believe it! It can’t be happening. ‘Pinch me,’ I keep saying. And I even do it!” He laughed and pinched his thigh to demonstrate. “No, I’m not dreaming. You’re alive!”

  “I can’t believe it myself,” Alice said softly, feeling like she was falling into some dream realm.

  “And all grown up. You’re even getting married. You’re a woman now.”

  Alice blushed.

  Alex pointed to the kitchen. “I see your Jack isn’t with you. I’d very much like to meet this young man of yours.”

  “No. Jack’s not here.” Alice felt her breath catch in her throat. “He’s—”

  Somewhere out there, trying to protect me.

  “You don’t owe us an explanation of why he isn’t here.”

  Yana lightly touched Alice’s arm, and the simple gesture almost made her burst into tears. Alice hadn’t wanted to upset them but she suddenly found herself telling them the whole story. Not only did she bring them up to speed on the serial killer, but she vented about everything happening with the wedding as well. When she was finally done, she felt a thousand times better. “I hope you don’t think I’m a complainer.”

  “A crazy man is after you!” Alex thrust his hands upward. “Of course you’re upset! You have every right!”

  “That is so horrible.” Yana wrapped her arm around Alice’s shoulders. “You are strong, Alice.”

  “Ah . . .” Alex pointed back at the kitchen. “Is that why the police officer is here? Because you’ve been threatened?”

  “The sheriff is a friend. He thought we should be extra careful.”

  Yana squeezed her closer. “You must be scared to death.”

  Alice chuckled. “Actually, I’m not. Jack used to be a police officer. I know he’ll find the guy.”

  “You have a lot of confidence in your Jack.”

  Alice smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

  Alex’s eyes became misty again. “I just found you and now you’re getting married. And what a big event it must be to have so much going on! To think you need a wedding coordinator.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.” Alice sighed. “I wanted a really tiny wedding.”

  “What does Jack do for work to afford such a wedding?” Alex asked.

  “We both have a private investigator business. But we’re not paying for the wedding. A friend of ours is.”

  Yana lit up. “You are very fortunate to have such a generous friend.”

  “We are. I keep trying to tell him that he doesn’t have to be quite so generous, but he won’t listen.”

  “Take some advice from an old man. Be a grateful receiver.” Alex laughed, but it quickly trailed off. “I can’t believe my brother will miss your wedding too.”

  “Too?” Alice asked.

  Yana shot her father a cross look. “Never mind, Papa. I’m sure Andrew would be here if he were able.”

  “And if he knew.” Alex slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Alice. “He’s never reached out to you?”

  “No. I didn’t even know he was still alive until a couple of months ago. Jack wanted to get me an engagement present and realized that I didn’t have a picture of my family. So he tracked down an old neighbor of my parents, a friend of my mother’s, and got a picture from her. But my mother’s friend also told Jack that the man who was driving the car that killed my family got away.”

  Alex’s right hand tightened into a fist. He glared straight ahead as he listened to her story, teeth grinding.

  “I’d always believed he was killed in the crash. But when Jack’s friend looked into it, that’s when we found out my grandfather may still be alive. And we also found out that . . .” Alice paused. She had trouble forming the words.

  “That the car crash was no accident,” Alex said.

  Alice’s heart sped up. “You knew?”

  All the color drained from Alex’s face. He looked much older as he hung his head and nodded. “My brother was in the army. In Poltava, most men joined. I never did.” He touched his chest. “Heart murmur. I’m strong as a bull, but they still wouldn’t take me. But Andrew gave his life for the dream of a free Ukraine. And it cost him the thing he loved most: his wife.” Wiping his eyes, Alex stood and walked over to the window, trying to compose himself.

  “Your grandmother was killed by a car bomb,” Yana explained to Alice.

  Alex looked out the window as he continued. “The country was divided, and they wanted your father to pick a side. My brother chose democracy. He and five of the leaders of the army hid the gold deposit of the treasury of Poltava from the Soviets. They said when the people elected the president, they would return the money. They made their choice. So, the Soviets killed them.”

  “They killed them all?” Alice asked.

  Alex turned back to face her. “Every one, as far as I know. But my brother escaped. That is why he is hiding. As long as that money is missing, he’s not safe.”

  Yana squeezed Alice’s hand; it felt natural, not what she would expect from someone she recently met. “And neither are you.”

  Alice’s head was reeling. “What? Why me?”

  Alex rushed back over to her, knelt in front of her, and took her hands. “My Kaya Kukla, we meant to bring you only joy by coming here.” Yana nodded, tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. Alex squeezed Alice’s hands almost painfully. “But we may have brought you more trouble. If someone finds out that the granddaughter of Andrew is alive, they will try to use you to make him tell them where the money is.”

  Yana locked her eyes with Alice’s and gripped her hand tightly. Her voice trembled with urgency. “There might be more than one person after you now.”

  32

  “Slow down. Slow down!” Jack was practically shouting into the phone as he paced a trail into his apartment floor’s carpet and tried to understand what Alice was telling him. She was close to frantic and speaking a mile a minute, so loudly that Lady could hear her voice from the phone and watched Jack expectantly from her bed. Alice had explained that her great-uncle and cousin had found her and had paid her a visit at Shawna’s apartment.

  Alice’s voice trembled. “Jack, they said that my grandfather and five others took a lot of money and held it as a bargaining chip, trying to do the right thing for their people. The others were killed. And as long as the money is out there, they will hunt for my grandfather and may use me to get to him.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jack muttered. He stopped and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t believe in superstition, but he was starting to think that getting married on April fourth wasn’t the best idea.

  “What should we do?”

  “I’ll handle it,” Jack said reassuringly, though he had no clue what he was going to do. “Right now, you need to tell Kendra, Bobbie, and Boomer that no one is to get within a hundred yards of you.”

  “That’s going to be a little difficult with this gigantic wedding.”

  Jack started pacing again. He pressed his left fist into his forehead and ground his teeth. “We need to cancel the wedding.”

  “Nope, not happening. I’ll elope with you right now or we’re getting married on April fourth. Anything else is out of the question.”

  “Alice—”

&nbs
p; “The only thing that’s changed is that now we know someone else may be after me. Or maybe not. Whoever’s searching for my grandfather might not even know that I’m alive. Right?”

  “Your great-uncle managed to find out where you were. Other people could find you, too.” Jack was now fighting a two-front war, and he didn’t even know who his enemies were. “Please put Kendra on the line.”

  “Don’t get her freaked out any more then she already is. Seriously, or I won’t get a minute alone, even in the bathroom.”

  “If I’m going to agree to this, I need to speak with Kendra.”

  Alice mumbled something, and Jack heard her stomping across the floor. A moment later, Kendra came on the line.

  “Hi, Jack. What’s happening?”

  After Jack brought Kendra up to speed, he said, “I need you to request an additional sheriff detail.”

  He hoped she understood that his wanting more protection for Alice had nothing to do with Kendra’s abilities, and everything to do with the level of the threat. He expected her to argue, and was surprised when she agreed right away.

  “I’ll contact the sheriff now.”

  The relief of avoiding another confrontation was a small measure of improvement. “Thanks, Kendra.” Jack hung up and dialed his friend at the State Department. She wasn’t there, so he left a frantic message asking her to call him back ASAP. He hurried into the bedroom, opened his bureau, and took out the burner phone Kiku had given him. He dialed the only number stored on it and waited.

  “Are you calling because you have cold feet and need reassurances that you are making a wise decision?” Kiku said, followed by a light laugh.

  “Unfortunately, no. I’m in the middle of two huge problems.”

  “I am beginning to believe you and I were destined to live in the midst of storms. They never seem to end for us, do they?”

  Jack explained everything to Kiku. By the time he was done he was so frustrated he wanted to smash something.

  “I do not need to tell you what you surely already know, but you are in a very, very dangerous situation. And I am speaking only of the situation with Ukraine.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you could help me with. I know I’ve already asked so much of you and I can never repay you—”

  “There is no need. There is also no limit placed on what a true friend may ask. But as I said, we live in the maelstrom. I am dealing with a situation right now that will take me at least two more days to clear up.”

  The wedding was in three days. Jack was on his own until then.

  “I understand.”

  “Pardon me for asking. But why . . .” Kiku’s voice trailed off.

  “Why what?”

  “I answered my own question. I was wondering why you and Alice did not cancel the wedding and run away.”

  “And then you realized that Alice would never run away.”

  “No. I thought, if I were marrying you, would I give up the chance to place a ring on your finger? No.”

  Jack opened the window and let some cool air in. “But you do agree that the smart thing to do is run?”

  “You are assuming that Alice is thinking with her head. She is not. She is being led by her heart. Though I do see her side of the argument. Right now, you are both in a familiar place where you know the people around you. You are on guard, you have implemented additional security measures, and you are actively trying to neutralize the threats. If I can complete my work faster, I will come straight there. However, I would not count on that happening.”

  “But you are going to be here for the wedding?”

  “I would not miss it for the world. Besides, my date is eager to speak with you.”

  “Your date?” Jack asked. “Who?”

  “I do not want to ruin the surprise. Besides, it will give you something else to think about other than your problems. I will see you soon, Officer.”

  Kiku hung up, and Jack turned his face toward the open window. Closing his eyes, he divided up his problems. On one side, he had the new threat from Alice’s past. On the other, a killer who was on the move. The killer was the immediate threat. Once that threat was resolved, then he could focus on the ghosts from Alice’s past. The logical side of his brain took over, and it provided him a moment of peace, an illusion of control.

  He closed the window, went over to the desk, and logged into the police database. Thomas had posted his profile of the killer in the secure section, along with all the data on the case. Jack had already seen the basics—most likely male, late thirties, abusive childhood, revenge motivation, etc.—but he was looking for specific details now. The ME hadn’t posted anything yet on the pocket square or the cologne, but in his report he stated that Delores Gill was killed by carbon monoxide, while the still-unidentified victim trapped under the floorboards with her had been killed as a result of arsenic poisoning. Both women were missing their rings.

  Jack drummed his fingers on the desk, his leg bouncing at his side. Thomas’s profile centered on Jack as the focus of the killer’s attention, but Jack thought that theory was tenuous at best. He grabbed his notebook and a pen, flipped to a blank page, and began a brainstorming exercise his father had taught him. Writing down all the words that came to mind, he ended up with a page covered with text. One word leapt out: Wedding.

  Except for Alice, all the women had one thing in common—they’d all been married.

  Jack switched back to the database and exported the wedding dates of all the victims. Most had been married in the summer, but that was consistent with general trends. Apart from that, there was no common denominator in the months or days of their weddings. But as he created his list and checked it against his initial pictures from the Buck Mountain crime scene, he found something interesting—not a commonality, but a pattern nonetheless. None of the women had been married for the same length of time. But four women whose pictures had hung next to each other on the wall were married for sequential numbers of years—seven, eight, nine, ten.

  Was the killer targeting women based on how long they were married?

  Jack cross-checked the dates that the women were reported missing, and his eyes widened. All the women went missing within a week of their wedding anniversary.

  That was it. He was sure of it. The killer was targeting women on their anniversaries.

  And if he was right, Alice was supposed to be victim zero.

  33

  The news story worked. Shortly after it aired, the police received a call identifying one of the women as Sara McCorkle. When Thomas texted Jack with the news, Jack called him back and tried to tell him what he’d discovered regarding the wedding anniversaries. But Thomas was in no mood to listen, already on his way to McCorkle’s address and busy coordinating a security detail to meet him there.

  Yet now, as Jack pulled into the driveway of McCorkle’s house, there wasn’t a police cruiser in sight. He double-checked the address in Thomas’s text against the one painted on the mailbox: 173 Deer Creek Lane. Yep, it was the right house. So why was no one here?

  Opening the car door, Jack pulled his shirt over his concealed pistol. He scanned the street and surrounding homes for any sign of anything out of place, but the neighborhood was quiet—a picture postcard of suburban peace and prosperity.

  He walked up the brick walkway toward the front door. It opened before he got to it, and a woman in her fifties stood holding open the door, a look of angst creasing her already wrinkled brow.

  “Detective Stratton?” She swallowed nervously.

  Jack stopped on the lower steps and tried to peer inside the house. “Yes, ma’am. Are you okay?” He held his fist tightly against his chest then made a thumbs-up and thumbs-down, trying to signal to the woman to do the same. It was a trick he’d learned in Iraq. Insurgents would sometimes have civilians answer the door and lure soldiers inside, then try to kill them. Jack didn’t know if he was being paranoid or not, but the woman was obviously distressed, and he wasn’t taking any chances.


  “Ah . . . Frank would like to speak with you inside.”

  “Can you please let him know I’ll talk to him out here?” Jack shifted his right foot slightly behind him as he moved into a shooter’s stance.

  The woman looked back into the house, and Special Agent Frank Thomas appeared, scowling at Jack. “Get in here, Stratton,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  Jack followed them both into the living room. The woman walked over to an older man, who wrapped his arms around her. He recognized the look on their faces—he’d seen it a thousand times as a police officer. They were scared out of their minds and desperate for help.

  A sheriff’s deputy stood in one corner. All the shades were drawn, the small room illuminated with a pale-yellow light overhead.

  “You did great, Sara,” Thomas said, smiling. His smile vanished as he faced Jack. “Let’s talk in private, Jack.” He gestured for Jack to follow, then walked back into the hall and led Jack to a study.

  “Is this your first rodeo, Stratton?” Thomas growled as he shut the door hard. “You made me reveal myself.”

  “What do you think this is, Mission Impossible?” Now it was Jack’s turn to get angry. “You could have texted me a heads-up. I’m not trained to blindly walk into a building.”

  “I assumed you’d be familiar with protocol in this situation.”

  “What protection protocol are you following?” Jack’s lip curled into a snarl, and he leveled an accusatory finger at Thomas. “You’re not operating under one, are you? You’re setting a trap and you’re using me and that innocent woman as bait.”

  “Lower your voice.” Thomas crossed his arms. “The best way to protect her is to catch the killer.”

  Jack shook his head. “Not at any cost.”

  “Mrs. McCorkle already had a target on her back.”

  “But you brought me here to wave the red flag in front of the bull.” Jack looked away, and his gaze fell on some pictures on a shelf. Sara and her husband. He was sure he’d never met the woman before. “You haven’t found a link between me and Sara, have you?”