Jack of Hearts

by Christopher Greyson

  “There is,” Carl said confidently.

  “So we have stakeouts to try to catch the thieves,” Ellie added.

  Everyone started talking at once about who they thought was responsible.

  “Wait a second.” Jack waved a forkful of eggs. “I don’t want to get this information by committee.”

  Ruby leaned in. “But we each have a theory.”

  Jack sighed. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d heard them out. “Carl,” he said, “you wrote all this up. Why don’t you start?”

  Ellie squeezed Carl’s hand, and he puffed his chest out like Patton about to address the troops.

  “Well, that’s a detailed list of everything that’s been stolen. It has dates, whose house it was stolen from, and what was taken. Now, I’m sure that some people who put things on that list are flat-out lying—”

  “Carl.” Ginny clapped her hands together like a librarian calling for quiet. “They could be mistaken. We have no proof—”

  “Oh, come on,” Carl grumbled. “Who would have stolen that figurine from Janet?”

  “I gave her that cat figurine.” Ginny put her hand on her chest. “It was a lovely hardened faux-hair over antique plaster of Paris.”

  Ted and Alice had moved to the sink. Ted whispered something to Alice, and she clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “I agree with Carl.” Laura cast a quick behave-yourself glance at her husband. “I don’t trust her.”

  “Okay, so my mom and Carl think that Janet is behind the thefts.”

  “I don’t.” Carl leaned on the table. “I just said she’s lying about the missing figurine.”

  Ellie raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Jack asked.

  “Can I say my theory?”

  Everyone started talking again.

  Ted held up his hands. He was in full-on teacher mode and quickly quieted the crowd. “This is how we’re going to proceed. Jack has the list of thefts and each of your theories. He and I are going to go over this list today, and we can all meet up again tomorrow for a follow-up.”

  Everyone started protesting, but Ted’s stern gaze was enough to quiet everyone except Ruby.

  “What makes you Watson to his Holmes?” Ruby asked, her right eyebrow arched.

  Jack had to hide his smile as he waited for his father’s reply.

  Ted squared his shoulders. It appeared he liked the analogy. “We’ve done it before. As a matter of fact, this case is actually a step down for us. Jack and I solved the Stacy Shaw disappearance. You can Google it.”

  “And Jack just caught the Giant Killer,” Alice said proudly.

  “Alice is being modest,” Jack said. “She has her own—”

  Alice shook her head, and Jack stopped talking.

  “Do you expect the rest of us to just sit on our hands?” Carl groused.

  “For right now, I think we should follow Ted’s plan,” Laura said. “Let’s vote. All in favor?”

  Ellie’s hand shot up immediately. Ginny’s hand went up next, and Ruby’s soon followed.

  Ellie nudged Carl, and finally he raised his hand too.

  “Wonderful. We’ll meet back here tomorrow,” Ted said.

  Laura saw everyone out while Jack finished his breakfast.

  Once they were all gone, Jack raised an eyebrow at his father. “What did you say to Alice at the sink?”

  Ted chuckled. “You should have seen that cat figurine that Ginny gave Janet. It’s got fake hair that makes it look like you took a dead cat and dipped it in shellac. It even has red eyes. It’s like a possessed old-fashioned doll—super-creepy.”

  Jack laughed. “Well, thanks for clearing the room. You know, trying to figure out who did this is going to take a lot longer than a day—if I can do it at all. Do you think there’s any chance these guys will just let it go? I mean, have you looked at Carl’s list? Almost everything stolen was worth less than fifty bucks.”

  Ted shook his head. “They wouldn’t care if it was a quarter. To them, it’s the principle of the thing. They want to know who it is.”

  Jack sighed. “What if I don’t figure it out? How’s Mom going to take it?”

  Ted whistled low. “I’ll deal with your mother. She’ll…” He trailed off, and a reassuring smile appeared on his face. “She’ll be fine. Fine.”

  “You really do need some acting lessons, Dad.” Jack put his plate in the dishwasher. “I guess I have to solve this mystery. I’d rather get kicked in the head than disappoint Mom. Well, we’d better get to it. You know Alice is coming with us, right?”

  Alice’s face lit up.

  “I’d love to have her help,” Ted said.

  “Hey,” Jack said to Alice, “why didn’t you want me to tell them that you have your own private investigation business? And we both caught the Giant Killer.”

  Alice shrugged. “Because your mom’s so proud of you. These are her friends and you’re her baby. This means a lot to her. Besides, I didn’t want to take any limelight from her golden boy in action.” Alice stood with her hands on her hips and laughed.

  Jack looked at those dimples that made him melt every time and smiled.

  Ted wrapped an arm around Alice’s shoulders and gave her a big hug. “Thank you for thinking of my wife.” He winked at Jack. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, my boy, but this one’s a keeper.”

  Alice lifted herself up on her toes. She was beaming.

  Jack knew that for a young woman who had spent much of her childhood in foster care and had lost her own father, those were the sweetest words his dad ever could have said.

  18

  Special Delivery

  Dixon slowed to a crawl and waited until he saw the green rental car pull out of the driveway. Ted Stratton was driving, and a young woman was sitting in the back. The man who chased him the night before was in the passenger seat. He craned his neck and tried to see into the backseat. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw the dog next to the young woman. It didn’t matter. Even if they left the mutt behind, he could deal with a dog.

  Dixon smiled. Auntie had said just the four of them were there. Now that they’re gone, Laura Stratton is home alone.

  He parked along the curb. A few old men were out walking little dogs. He eyed them with disdain. They were like seagulls, pot-bellied with skinny legs, hoping for any little thing to break the monotony of the end of their days.

  It was only nine fifteen, but the morning was already sweltering; even with the car windows open, the temperature in the car climbed quickly. Dixon cursed the broken air conditioner. He hated this old car. But the payment from this package would be enough for a down payment on a new truck. All he had to do was get the statue.

  He winced as he pulled the baseball hat lower to cover his eyes. It tugged on the bandages, and the pain fueled his anger. He grabbed the cardboard box off the seat, got out of the car, and shut the door. When he saw his reflection in the driver’s side mirror, he frowned. His all-brown getup looked like the uniform of a delivery driver, but his Egyptian tattoo stood out on his neck. I should’ve slapped some of Auntie’s makeup on that. He turned sideways to check his back. His pants bulged only slightly over the gun tucked into his waistband.

  An old lady on the sidewalk across from him stopped and looked his way. Dixon tipped his head down and headed up the walkway to Laura Stratton’s house. His heart was beating hard in anticipation. He had killed other people, of course—starting with his grandfather. And he had to admit that he liked watching them die. But this time was different—better. His eyes narrowed, his brow creased, and his scalp hurt. He was going to kill the old crow who’d hurt him, and he was going to really enjoy it. He couldn’t care less what Auntie said. He’d try to make it look like an accident—but it would be a very painful accident.

  He rapped on the door absentmindedly, lost in thought, picturing the ways he could kill her. Maybe she could fall and smash her little head? Or…they have a car. Maybe it slipped into neutral and pinned
her to the wall? Slowly crushing the life out of her…

  “Can I help you?”

  Dixon jumped. Laura Stratton stood in the doorway, smiling. He hadn’t even heard the door open. He stood there, blinking. Did she recognize him? She didn’t look scared.

  “Are you delivering that?” She pointed at the box in his hand.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I have a package for you.”

  From his pocket, he pulled out a phone message pad he’d found in a drawer at his aunt’s house. He was careful not to let Laura see the front while he pretended to search his pockets for a pen. Finally, he looked at her and did his best to appear flustered. “I need you to sign. Do you have a pen?”

  “Certainly. One second.”

  Laura walked into the house, and Dixon slipped through the door behind her.

  The screen door clicked closed, and Laura glanced over her shoulder. She gave a little start when she saw him inside the foyer.

  “Do you mind waiting there?” Her eyes tightened, and she looked nervous.

  Dixon grinned. “Not at all. I’ll wait right here.”

  Laura seemed to relax. “Thank you.”

  “But I’m letting all your cold air out.” Dixon reached back and shut the door. “I don’t live in a barn, right?” His grandfather had screamed those words in his face right before Dixon punched him in the throat.

  Dixon smiled.

  Laura swallowed and took a step back. “Let me check if my husband has a pen. He’s in the kitchen.”

  Lie. Lie. Lie.

  Dixon’s smile grew.

  You’re still going to die, die, die.

  A clicking sounded on the tiles down the hallway. Maybe Laura isn’t alone after all? But who else could be here?

  The clicking grew louder, and then the biggest dog Curtis Dixon had ever seen in his life came into view. It looked as if someone had pumped a German Shepherd full of the same secret formula that had made Captain America. The dog’s back was broad and muscular, and on its chest was a patch of golden brown in the shape of a shield.

  A low rumble began deep in the dog’s chest, and its muzzle twisted into a snarl, revealing teeth that looked as large as a tiger’s.

  “It’s okay, Lady.” Laura reached out to calm the dog, but it still took a step toward Dixon.

  Dixon reached back and opened the door.

  The dog took another step forward and sniffed. Its eyes narrowed, and Dixon knew the beast had caught his scent the night before.

  He turned and bolted.

  Claws scratched on the tiles behind him.

  Laura was shouting something, but he didn’t hear. He was focused on his car. He heard the screen door click shut, but his relief at that sound was short-lived. A second later, the door was ripped off its hinges as the beast jumped through it. Dixon didn’t look back, but he heard the door crash to the walkway.

  He sprinted to the car and dove through the passenger window. Jaws snapped at the air behind him. Pain shot through his head as it bashed into the driver’s side door.

  The beast put its front paws on the car door and roared. Dixon fumbled for the gun stuck in the back of his pants.

  Huffing and puffing, Laura raced over and seized the dog’s collar. “Lady! Lady!”

  The dog got off the car, but kept barking. It pressed against Laura’s legs and looked as if it was actually trying to move her away from the car.

  Dixon grabbed the gun and was about to yank it out when he heard a man’s voice.

  “Laura? Are you okay?”

  It was an old coot with a poodle, calling to her from across the street. The poodle was barking too.

  “I’m fine. Everything’s fine, Bernie.” Laura peered into the car. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? She’s never acted like this before.”

  Dixon scowled. More old people were staring. Across the street, a couple had opened their front door and shuffled out.

  “I’m all right. The dog just… Forget about it.” Dixon yanked out his keys and started the car.

  Laura made a face. “I hate to ask, but…can I have my package?”

  Dixon didn’t know what to do. The package was fake. Should he just drive off? All the old ghouls were staring at him, but if he left it with her…

  “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” He pointed to the label. “It’s 11 Banyan Bay. This is Banyan Breeze Drive. I just noticed the street sign.”

  Laura Stratton gave him a look of pity, as though he were the sorriest creature on the planet. “Oh, after all that. I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Dixon started the car and tried not to scowl. Right now, his every instinct told him to draw his gun and shoot her, the stupid dog, and every old bag on the block; he had to channel all his remaining energy into resisting those instincts. “I’m fine.” He forced a smile.

  But as he drove away, his smile changed. Like Pinocchio, the wooden grin turned real when he thought: But I’m coming back. And when I do, you sure as hell won’t be fine.

  19

  The Shadow Man

  Ted parked the car in Mrs. Manning’s driveway. “Well, here we are. Why did you want to come here first?”

  Jack tapped the papers in his hand. “I’ve split the thefts on this sheet into two groups. The lesser group involves items taken from outside the home—and almost everything on the list falls into that category. There are only three cases where the thief actually went into the house. There’s a huge difference between the two types of crime.”

  “Petty theft versus breaking and entering?” Alice said.

  “Exactly. So I want to start with the serious crimes first—and that includes Betty Manning. It says a necklace was stolen from the bedroom, and that Mrs. Manning saw the thief, though Carl didn’t list a physical description. Do you know Mrs. Manning, Dad?”

  “Everyone in Orange Blossom knows everyone else. They have some event going on every day at the community center. Sometimes twice a day.”

  “I thought you were supposed to relax in retirement. What’s she like?”

  “She’s one of the good ones. Nice. Chatty.”

  Jack and Alice followed Ted to the door. Ted rang the doorbell.

  “Do you mind making the introductions?” Jack asked him.

  “Sure.”

  The door opened, and a shapely young woman dressed in hospital scrubs appeared in the entranceway. Her name tag, which read “Kiara Gonzalez,” stood out on her ample chest.

  She stepped closer to Jack and smiled broadly. “May I help you?” Her brown eyes sparkled.

  “I, ah…” Jack was taken off guard.

  Ted waved. “Good morning. Is Betty in?”

  Kiara nodded. “May I have your names, please?”

  “Ted and Jack Stratton. And Alice Campbell.”

  “One moment.” Kiara kept the door open as she disappeared into a room on the right.

  Alice shot Jack a sideways scowl and let her mouth hang open, imitating him. “I, ah…”

  “What? I thought it was going to be a little old grandmother opening the door. It threw me.”

  Ted coughed to cover his grin.

  A couple of seconds later, Kiara reappeared. “Mrs. Manning will see you now.”

  They walked into the living room. Mrs. Manning smiled as they entered. The tiny, round-faced senior was hooked up to a dialysis machine.

  Jack and Alice stopped short. Ted kept going. “Good morning, Betty. This is my son, Jack, and his girlfriend, Alice.”

  Betty smiled at Jack. “I’ve heard nice things about you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. If now isn’t a good time, we can come back.”

  “I never know how I’m going to feel. Now’s fine.” She gestured to a chair, and Ted sat next to her.

  The sunny living room was a mix of bright colors and flower patterns. Accent pillows that looked to be handmade sat on every couch and chair, and photos of smiling grandchildren filled the shelves and dotted the tables and walls as well.

  Kia
ra slipped off down the hallway, and Jack and Alice sat opposite Ted on a loveseat.

  “What brings you by?” Betty asked.

  “Actually,” Jack said, “my mother asked us to look into some missing property.”

  “For the book club? Oh, they’ve been by several times. I agree with Ellie—I think all these thefts are the work of a gang.” Betty’s hand went to her throat. “Did you find my necklace?”

  “Not yet, ma’am. But you said that someone broke in and stole it. I just had a couple of questions about that night.”

  “It’s been a couple of months past now. The necklace isn’t worth much, monetarily, but to me…” She seemed to get a little frailer as she crossed her feet and folded her hands in her lap. “To me it’s priceless, and I’d love to get it back.”

  “Where exactly was this necklace when it was stolen?” Jack asked.

  “In my jewelry case in my bedroom. That’s a big clue for you.”

  “What is?” Alice leaned forward.

  “Whoever the thief is, they’re not too familiar with jewelry. I would think they would try to study up and get to know what things are worth. In order to…oh, what’s that word? Pawn it. You’d think they’d be knowledgeable, but this one wasn’t.”

  “What makes you say that?” Jack asked.

  “Because they left the rest of my jewelry alone. Much more valuable stuff, too. The necklace they stole was a present from my father when I was little. He worked at a shoe factory. Can you believe that we used to have those? Here? In America? But he did. It was for my thirteenth birthday. It was a simple silver chain with an oval red hyacinth.”

  “A hyacinth flower?” Jack asked.

  “A hyacinth is also a zircon,” Betty explained. “It wasn’t an expensive gemstone, but it looked like it was. That’s the clue. I’m sure of it. When you looked in my jewelry box, that necklace just glowed like one of the queen’s jewels.”

  “Can you tell me about that night?” Jack asked.

  “It was last…” Betty looked down at her hands and closed her eyes. “It was close to my birthday, so that would have been just around Thanksgiving. The day of the theft, I hadn’t been able to take my usual nap because of all the racket, so I went to bed early. I was sound asleep when I was awakened by a faint sound in the kitchen. It sounded like the wind. I thought I must have left a window open, so I got out of bed to go and close it. I was surprised to find all the windows closed. I checked them one by one. I nearly keeled over when I looked out in the yard and saw a man. That is not normal in these parts at that time of night.”