by Smith, C. P.
Chapter Two
Just Jack
“Jennifer, did you see the Baptist Church has a bake sale on the 30th?”
Looking up from my computer, I nodded my head in the affirmative and went back to my research of well-known serial killers. I wanted to see what made them tick, what the police had done to catch them, and read the stories from the journalists who’d helped catch them. Searching through the killer’s names, I stopped on the BTK killer who’d terrorized my home state of Kansas from 1986-2004.
The killer collected trophies? Grabbing my spiral and making notes from the article, I felt, rather than saw, a presence behind me.
“Ms. Stewart, didn’t we already discuss interfering in my investigation?”
Closing my eyes to the sound of that voice speaking inches from my ear, I dropped my pen, and swiveled quickly to the monitor and turned it off. I looked up into those crystal blue eyes and froze. Before I could respond, Bob, my editor, took notice of the Sheriff and approached.
“Sheriff, to what do we owe this pleasure?”
“Just checking to make sure Ms. Stewart understood the gravity of the situation, Bob. I don’t need some reporter going off half-cocked printing allegations that haven’t been substantiated. But seein’ as she was hard at work disobeying my order, looks like I need to restate, again, we do not know what we are dealing with, and any stories leaked by the press will not go unnoticed by my office.”
Bob looked at me, exasperation clear in his eyes, and then turned back to the Sheriff with his good ole boy smile.
“Sheriff, Mrs. Stewart hasn’t been assigned to investigate this story. Any ideas she had were put to rest this morning.”
I felt heat hit my face, god this is embarrassing. I took a deep breath and turned away so they couldn’t see my face. I was mortified at being reprimanded in front of the Sheriff. If I ever hoped to further my career, I would need good standing with his department. I knew I needed to bite my lip and suck up this slight, but having been slapped on the hand like an errant child, it stoked my temper.
“See to it she keeps her nose out of it in the future.”
“I can assure you she will keep to her articles about the host of exciting adventures to be had in our fair county.”
Standing quickly, I’d had enough about keeping to my place. I grabbed my purse, stuffed my bag with my articles and notes and then turned to them both.
“You’ll excuse me gentleman, the air of oppression is a little thick right now, I’m sure I have a bake sale I need to see to.”
I heard a chuckle from Lorraine two desks over, as I stomped towards the front door. As I was pulling the door open, I felt a hand at my elbow stopping me.
“You need to stay out of this Mrs. Stewart. Two women have died. Think of your husband, your kids if you have them. You nose around in this, and you could end up hurt or worse.”
“I’ll take that into consideration Sheriff, I wouldn’t want to worry anyone. Now again, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure I have a pot roast I need to put in the oven.”
Sucking in my breath to ward off the tears his words caused, I pushed through the door and tried to keep myself from running. Stupid, so stupid, I couldn’t remember the last time I made a pot roast… its funny the things you miss?
* * *
Jack
I watched the little spitfire hurry down the block, and then turned to Bob and gave him a chin lift. As I opened the door, Lorraine, who was as old as time and a fixture of the Gunnison Times, stopped me in my tracks.
“I’m guessing you’ve never met Ms. Stewart before today, boy?”
“Nope, haven’t had the displeasure till today.”
“Word of advice, go easy on her, she just moved here four months ago after selling her house she couldn’t afford, due to a drunk driver killing her husband.”
Christ.
I closed my eyes, and then hung my head.
“She acts tough, but she’s got a soft spot, and a heart of gold. Got married out of high school to the guy and had a baby not soon after. Baby’s all grown up and out of the house.”
I turned my head and looked back down the street, then turned back to Lorraine and mumble, “Fuck.”
“That about covers it, now what’cha gonna do about it, boy?”
I stared at the old woman for a few seconds, then turned on my heels and went out the door in the direction Jenn went.
* * *
Jenn
So killers collect trophies? Hmmm, I wonder if the police have discovered the victims were missing anything? I pulled out my note pad and made a notation to ask Barry for the names of the first victim’s family. Tapping my pen against the paper, trying to remember the first victim and what I knew about her. I looked around the park and saw mothers with strollers had emerged to enjoy the last few weeks of warmer weather.
In the fall, weather changes quickly here. You could have seventy degrees and sunny in the morning, and by nightfall snow could be threatening. Breathing in the fresh air, and thinking I’d better get my tires changed to all-weather for the upcoming winter; I felt the bench beside me shift with the weight of someone sitting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the large frame of the Sheriff. Damn.
“I didn’t know.” Great, sympathy from this already fascinating man would do me in, so I steeled myself against his pity.
“How could you?” I replied, letting him off the hook.
“Lorraine said you moved here on your own?” Making a notation never to unload my problems on the clearly “Chatty Cathy,” I turned to those blue eyes and shrugged.
“I had a dream when I was a kid to live in the mountains with the bears.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“What?”
“Never met a woman who wanted to live with bears.”
“Never met a man as bossy as you.”
I watched as his grin turn into a smile that could melt butter, and found myself looking at his lips. I forced my eyes back to the park, and watched a mother with her hands held out to her son, as he let go of the top of the slide and slid to the bottom.
“Jack Gunnison.”
“Pardon?”
“Let’s start over. My name is Jack Gunnison.” I studied his face; saw he was sincere, and nodded.
“Ok, Sheriff, Jennifer Stewart.”
“Just Jack.”
“Sorry?”
“No, Sheriff, just Jack.” I smiled at his offer.
“Ok, Just Jack.” I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile got even bigger. Oh, man that smile was dangerous to women at large.
“Jack?”
I turned my head and saw a beautiful woman with blonde hair, big blue eyes, and she looked pissed. Scratch that, she was pissed.
“I see it didn’t take you long to move on, although, I wouldn’t say you moved on to greener pastures.”
“Christ, Naomi.” Jack hissed.
“You told me a few weeks ago you didn’t want to be tied down, and here you are cozying up to some random woman, while I’m sitting at home wondering what I did wrong?”
“I’m not doing this here, Naomi. I already said what I had to say.”
“You didn’t say much of anything. Eight months we saw each other, I thought we were going somewhere and then you just move on?”
Oh, god, I don’t want to be here right now! Looking for any excuse to leave, I grabbed my bag and stood.
“I’ll just be heading back to work, Jack.”
“Jenn, you don’t need to leave, this conversation is over.”
“Yes, Jenn, head on back to work.” Naomi snapped, sarcasm dripping from her words. Yikes!
“I, um, Jack, I’ll, ah, talk to you later, ok?” Without letting him stop me, I pushed past the blonde bitch.
Nineteen years I was married. Doug was my first everything; I hadn’t experienced much before now except raise my daughter, and write puff pieces part-time. I had no idea what to do or say in this situation; hell, I’d never been involved in a bre
akup. So, I hightailed it across the park and in the direction of my Jeep. Looking back once, I saw Jack’s eyes on me, as Naomi cried into her hands. I am so out of my league with this guy. He should have a warning label on his back, “Proceed with caution; smile will dazzle you.”
“Jennifer? Are you talking to yourself now?” Screeching to halt at hearing my name, I turned to see Barry standing at his truck parked next to mine. The paper and the Sheriff’s Department shared parking space since our buildings were on the same block. In fact, that’s how I’d met Barry the first time; he’d parked next to me.
“Ha, no,” I stumbled, trying to come up with a valid reason. “I was just, a, just reciting a song.” He didn’t buy it. Damn. I watched Barry look back across the park, watching Jack talk to Naomi. I cringed; he must have seen me scurrying away like a coward.
“Word of advice, Jack isn’t the type of guy to settle down. He’s been on his own for twenty years, and he’s had women, but they never last. Every time he spends time with one; they think they’ll be the one to tame him, but it never happens.”
“Good to know. Not that I have any intention of getting involved with him.” Barry stared at me, searching for something, so I smiled and pulled my door open. “Later, Barry.” He nodded and gave me a two-finger salute, then climbed in his truck. I watched him drive off, then looked back to see Naomi and Jack in an embrace. Looks like this one might last.
* * *
Entering a small cafe in Crested Butte, where locals like to gather, I noted the time. McGill’s was open from 6:00 am to 2:30 pm daily. It was pushing two; so I only had enough time to order takeout. Rosie, one of the waitresses who’d been there for close to twenty years took my order, so I sat at the bar to wait.
McGill’s is located on Elk street, in the heart of what is considered Main Street. Only mom and pop stores are allowed there, maintaining the quaint feeling of yesterday’s gone by. Ben, a longtime local, was sitting at a table drinking coffee with Gerald. Both men it their sixties, moved up to Crested Butte years ago. Ben runs a B&B on the outskirts of town, though I don’t think he actively looks for bookings; he’s always here when I come in. But still I was shocked when I learned this big bear of a man catered to people year round. Just under six foot, with longish gray hair, he was big, in shape for a man his age, and lived life every day like it was his last. A throw back from the Hippie generation; Ben still looked and dressed like one.
Gerald runs one of the ski lifts on the mountain during ski season and in the summer; he takes tourists on rafting tours down the Gunnison and Taylor rivers. He’s a tall, lean man, with piercing blue eye and an easy smile. He could be shy sometimes, but he seemed to have a heart of gold. Both were some of my favorite locals.
“You just gonna sit there Jenny, or get your cute butt over here and say hello?”
“Ben, stop calling me Jenny and quit looking at my butt.”
“Can’t, you remind me of my first girl back in high school and we called her Jenny. As for your butt, it is cute; shapely too, looks like an upside-down heart.”
“Oh, my god, you’re a dirty old man.” I shouted.
Gerald, or Gerry, hooted out a laugh, and Ben joined him. I felt my face grow warm, and I looked back at Rosie, who was smiling at the two old farts. Grabbing my bag, I pulled out my notes and tried to ignore them.
“What the hell are you reading?” Rosie asked, leaning across the bar and looking at my notes.
“Time frame I put together of the two bodies found dumped outside of town.”
“Two bodies? They found another one?” Before I could answer her, I watched from the mirror over the bar, as Ben and Gerry looked up at her shouted replay and stood. Deciding they wanted in on the conversation, and bringing their coffee with them, they walked over and each sat to one of my sides. Without a care in the world if it were nosey or not, both looked over my notes, talking to each other while I sat there dumbfounded.
“Both women late thirties? Not local, huh? The Sheriff knows what’s goin on; maybe we should call a town meeting? What do you think Gerry?”
“Sounds reasonable. Can’t be too careful these days. Can we have it here at McGill’s, Rosie? You could serve some finger food and coffee.”
“Sure, we can have it at four tomorrow, gives me time to clean up before everyone gets here.”
“I’ll call Jack and have him meet us here at three so we can talk beforehand.” Ben insisted.
And before I could even open my mouth to object to anything they’d just said, and most definitely object to them calling Jack since he’d just told me to keep my nose out of his business, Ben was on the phone barking out, “Jack, Ben here.”
Oh, please someone shoot me now.
“We need to meet tomorrow at three to discuss these killings. Gonna have the locals here at four tomorrow so you can get us up to speed.”
I was contemplating moving to Breckenridge the minute I heard the call. Surely they needed a friendly journalist to write their event calendar?
“Jenny told us.”
I wonder how long it takes to pack a one-room cabin? I could be on the road by nightfall, maybe seven?
“Jenny, Jennifer Stewart, pretty thing with a cute butt, surely you’ve met her?”
I heard Jack’s voice grow louder the longer he was on the phone. Now I was determined more than ever to give notice at the paper on my way out of
town. So, I picked up my notes and started stuffing them in my bag, when a phone was shoved into my face.
“Jack wants to talk with you.” Ben chuckled.
“Umm, I’m pretty sure he does, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to talk to him, so I’ll just be going now, night all.”
It’s moments like this I’m not ashamed to admit… I’m a chicken. As I turned to run out the door, forgetting I’d ordered a meal to go, I was pretty sure I heard Jack laugh on the other end of the phone. Maybe I’ll forget packing and leave from here!!!
Chapter Three
Ball Breaker
“Jack.”
“Christ you’re wet.”
“Jack.”
My eyes flew open; images of long legs and brown, coffee colored eyes, flashed across my memory. “Fuck.” The images seemed real, the memories like they’d just happened. I lay there a moment, trying to slow my breathing, “Jesus.” Sitting up and glancing at the clock, I noted the time, 3:15am. My thoughts turned to those brown eyes, and wondered if she was sleeping, or working on that damn article. Long legs that wrapped around my back, while those eyes closed as she moaned my name, passed through my minds-eye. Shit. I rubbed my eyes to get rid of the image, “Jesus I need a vacation.” Reaching down and swiping my jeans off the floor, I pulled a shirt from my drawer, grabbed my boots and headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. While I waited for it to brew, I thought about this piece of shit killing women. He’s dumping them where we can find them; he’s not burying them; he wants us to find them…but why? “I wonder if he returns to his dumpsites?” Thinking on that, I decided to check out the possibility; it was better than sitting here stewing before heading into the office.
* * *
Jenn
“She’s curled up like a kitten; the light of the moon shining on her brown curls. She’s so brave moving here alone. I leaned down and whispered, “I’ll keep you safe, sleep well little one.”
You know when you’re sleeping but not quite asleep, and you’re not sure if you’re dreaming? I was lying in my bed curled around my pillow, and I swear I heard a whisper. Too afraid to open my eyes and too sluggish with sleep to believe I felt a warm breath on my neck, I continued to doze. Then I heard a floorboard creak. I held my breath listening, and then heard my front door open and then close. Now I was sure I wasn’t dreaming. Heart pounding, but afraid to move, I listened again for movement. Slowly, I rolled over and opened my eyes. I turned my head to the window and screamed when I saw a dark figure staring back at me. Scared shitless, I rolled to my phone on the nightstand, grabbed i
t, and dialed 911 as I fell to the floor.
“Gunnison County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Someone is outside my window, I think they were in my cabin.” I was crouching on the floor looking back at the window, but seeing no one there now.
“Ma’am, I need you to remain calm and give me your name and address.”
“Jennifer Stewart, is Jack there?”
“Ma’am I need your address.”
“204 Old Saw Mill Road, first cabin on the left, is the Sheriff there?”
“Ma’am I’m sending a Deputy to you now, are your doors and windows locked?” I looked at my front door, afraid to move towards it. “I don’t know, I, can you call Jack?”
“Ma’am the Sheriff is off duty for the night, a Deputy will be there shortly. I need you to check your doors and windows and make sure they are secure.” Shaking my head, at the woman’s voice, not wanting to move, but afraid not too, I stood and started heading towards the door.
“Ok, doors and windows, I can do that.” Suddenly a loud noise came from the front porch, and I screamed, ran to the bathroom, and locked myself in, sliding down the door to the floor.
“Ma’am? Are you still with me?”
“He’s outside,” I whispered. “Please call Jack, please, please, please.”
* * *
Jack
“Gunnison.”
“Sheriff, we’ve got a woman on the emergency line with an unknown intruder still on premises, at 204 Old Saw Mill Road.”