“No way! TANK!” Jack hopped out of the car.
Tank knuckle-bumped Jack and then clamped both hands on his shoulders. “Look at you, Jack Stratton.”
“What are you doing way out here?”
“I just transferred over to Rosemont. You?”
Jack hesitated. “I’m, ah . . . I’m heading to Hope Falls.”
“And this beautiful lady?” Tank raised an eyebrow at Replacement in the car.
“Alice, this is Tank.”
Tank leaned past Jack and thrust his hand out. “Jimmy Tanaka. Pleasure.”
“Alice Campbell. Nice to meet you.”
“She’s Chandler’s foster sister,” Jack added.
Tank stood up straighter and paused for a moment. “It was an honor to serve with your brother. He was a good friend.”
“Thank you.”
Tank turned back to Jack. “I’m trying to get some of the guys together. Are you still in Darrington?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. If you do, I’m in. Just let me know.”
“Great. Well, I’d better move. I’m already late to report in.”
“Good seeing you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tank said to Replacement. Before leaving, he added to Jack, “I don’t know if you get out here in the sticks much, but you might want to slow down. Locals out here are a tight-knit group. You won’t make a good impression if you come into town like a bat outta hell.”
5
It Is to Me
Replacement located a Walmart and some fast-food joints about three exits before Hope Falls. The plan was to buy a few necessities, grab a quick bite, and then hit the bed-and-breakfast. Jack made a mental list of what they needed for an extended stay. It wasn’t a long list. People always overthink what they really need, but Jack knew he could get by with a lot less.
A little old lady with a blue apron and a kindly smile waved as they entered the Walmart. Jack grabbed a shopping cart. Replacement took a sticker from the greeter and put it on her jacket like a badge of pride. “Where do we start?” She got up on her tiptoes and looked out over the massive store.
“I’ll get some stuff and meet you in the women’s department.” Jack snatched a second cart for her.
Replacement pouted. “Can’t we shop together?”
“I hate shopping. Let’s do this fast.”
Replacement rolled her eyes.
Jack headed to sporting goods first, where he grabbed a duffel bag. In menswear, he grabbed three casual T-shirts and a pair of jeans. He figured he didn’t need shoes, but he threw some socks, underwear, and sweats in his cart before going to find Replacement.
She was already headed his way, grinning as if she’d hit the lottery. She held up a tan shirt and a pair of jeans. “Is this okay? They’re new.”
“Of course they’re new.”
She looked hurt.
You’re a jackass, Jack. She’s used to Salvation Army and secondhand. To her, this is a big step up. Look at her, she’s like a little kid at Christmas.
“That’s not what I meant. They’re great, but you’ll need more. Come on.” Jack headed back to the women’s department.
“I got my outfit,” she protested. “Don’t you like it?”
“I do, but you’ll need at least five outfits.”
“Five!”
“You weren’t planning on wearing the same clothes every day, were you?”
“I can’t afford—”
“This is my outing. I’ve got it covered, okay?”
They headed toward the women’s section, and Jack gave her a little push. “Go. Seriously. You’re helping me out, so I’ve got it. Get some more outfits. Five. You need a big T-shirt and some sweats, too.”
“A big T? Why?”
“To sleep in.”
“That’s too much,” she protested.
“No, it’s not. Just get them.”
Replacement looked at him with her big green eyes. He could tell that she was deciding whether he was serious when she raised herself up on her toes to search his face. He nodded, and she flitted away, straight for the clearance section. On the way there, she stopped to gaze at a beautiful brown dress with white trim. She picked it up, admired it for a moment, and then put it back.
Jack waited. As soon as Replacement had picked out a few things and gone into the dressing room, he hurried over to the dress she’d been admiring. He would surprise her with it. But as soon as he got to the rack, he realized the problem with his plan. He didn’t know her size.
He lifted up one of the dresses and held it up to himself, drawing a smile from a guy walking by. Jack awkwardly put the dress into his cart, then scooped half the dresses off the rack and took them all over to an older woman in a blue smock.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw the pile of brown dresses in Jack’s cart. “Can I help you, sir?”
Jack looked down at her name tag. “Hi, Barbara. Did you see the girl who went in there?” He pointed to the dressing room.
“The petite one?”
“Yes. Brown hair. About five foot four. Blue jeans and a light-brown jacket. She weighs approximately—”
“Am I supposed to arrest her?” Barbara smiled.
Jack blushed. “No . . . What size do you think she is?” He gestured to the pile.
“Oh!” She thought for a moment and pulled out two of the dresses. “Have her try these on. One of them should fit.”
Jack smiled and hurried over to the dressing room. Replacement was just coming out.
“Did you find anything you like?” he asked, hiding the dresses behind his back.
“I’ve got four great outfits!”
“I said five.”
“How many outfits are you buying?” She tried to peek around him.
“It’s not the same. I’m a guy.” Then Jack held out the two dresses. “Here.”
Replacement looked down at the dresses and froze. Jack smiled encouragingly.
She blinked a few times, looked up at Jack, and then burst into tears. It wasn’t a little cry either, but a full-blown wail. She turned and dashed back into the dressing room, sobbing. Jack just stood there with the dresses still in his arms.
Barbara walked over, patted his arm, and took the dresses. “I think I can handle this,” she said with a wink. “Why don’t you do some more shopping?”
Jack nodded his thanks, then turned and walked in a random direction, getting looks from rubbernecking shoppers trying to find the source of the commotion.
What the hell was that?
He headed over to electronics, which was right across from the women’s section, and pretended to look at some DVDs while he waited for either Barbara or Replacement to emerge from the dressing room. When Barbara reappeared, he hurried over.
She gave him a grandmotherly smile. “Everything’s fine. She’s just not used to someone being so nice to her. She told me how you took her in and everything you’ve done for her already. I think it’s the kindest thing that you’re getting another apartment so she can have a room and a bed. And now this. She’s very touched.”
“Do you think she needs shoes to go with that dress?”
The elderly woman’s eyes filled with tears, and she suddenly hugged Jack. “You’re the most thoughtful man!”
Jack awkwardly kept his hand out as Barbara hugged him. And women wonder why men don’t like shopping.
Barbara disappeared for a couple minutes to find some shoes, then took them into the dressing room area. Jack crept forward to the entrance and tried to listen. After a few seconds, Replacement started to cry again, and Jack’s shoulders slumped.
“Why is she so moody?” asked a voice.
Jack turned. There was an old man sitting on a chair outside the dressing room. Probably waiting for his wife, Jack thought.
“I’m not sure,” Jack said.
“Is she pregnant?” the old man asked.
“What?”
“Your wife.”
“Oh, no.” Jack coughed
and shook his head. “She’s not my wife.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No. She’s a girl . . . and my friend, but . . . she’s not my girlfriend.”
“That explains it.” The man nodded wisely, as if he’d solved a great riddle.
Jack was wondering if this shopping trip would ever end, when Barbara came out and came over to stand next to Jack. She cleared her throat, and the dressing room door opened.
Alice timidly walked out. She was so beautiful Jack’s world stopped for a minute and he could hear his heart beating. Her eyes were still moist with tears, but the smile on her face was contagious. She turned around once and just beamed. Jack knew he was standing there frozen in place and grinning like a moron, but he couldn’t help himself.
Barbara nudged him from behind. He stepped forward. “You look beautiful.” Please, please don’t cry again.
“You like it? Are you sure?” Replacement sniffled and looked down at the dress.
“Yeah. It looks great on you.”
“I’ll have them ring it up in electronics so you can get going,” Barbara said with a wink.
“Thanks for your help.”
After they had checked out, Jack followed behind Replacement as she practically skipped through the parking lot. She looked back at him and stopped. When he caught up to her, she gave him a quick hug and a gigantic grin.
“Thank you.” Her voice cracked.
“It’s not much.”
“It is to me.”
6
Hope Falls
The Hope Falls Inn was an old estate home that had been converted into a bed-and-breakfast. Three stories tall, and standing out against puffy white clouds and a bright blue sky, the enormous white house looked as though it belonged in a historical movie. The plush green grass that surrounded the house was the kind that made you want to kick off your shoes and walk barefoot. Jack could tell by the new paint and manicured lawn that someone cared very much for the place. He grabbed his duffel bag, and they started down the walkway.
Three wide steps led up to a wooden front porch with a white swing suspended from ivory chains. When they walked inside, it was as if they’d stumbled through some time portal and landed in a bygone era. Replacement spun around to take everything in and Jack watched her, wondering if she’d known it was a historic inn when she booked it. It wouldn’t have been his choice.
A beautiful, middle-aged woman a few years older than Jack emerged from the doorway behind the front desk. Adorned in a period-style dress with a high collar, her brown hair swept up in a tight bun, she practically glided as she walked. Like an actress, she scanned the room, checking to see that everything was in order. This stage was hers, and the guests were the audience. She lifted her regal chin, looked at Jack, and froze, her eyes wide. But then she shook her head and gave a slight curtsy.
“Good evening,” she said, in a polished, smooth voice. “I’m Ms. Jenkins. Welcome to the Hope Falls Inn.”
Jack smiled at her perfect diction and formal introduction, but there was something about the way she’d looked at him that made him stand a little straighter. Not flirtatious, exactly, but . . . he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Hello. We have a reservation. Stratton.”
“Of course, Mr. Stratton.” She gave him an old-fashioned brass key and took a deep look into his eyes, then lowered her gaze. “Room 102 is at the top of the stairs and to the right.” She pointed to the wood-paneled stairway. “The kitchen is closed, but if you’re hungry I can get you something.”
“No, thank you. We just ate.” He signed the necessary paperwork and tossed the key to Replacement. She dashed up the stairs.
“Breakfast begins at seven,” the woman said.
“Thank you.” He grabbed his duffel bag and jogged up the stairs after Replacement. At the top of the stairs, he felt Ms. Jenkins still watching him, and he paused and looked back down.
“Will there be anything else, Mr. Stratton?”
“No, thank you.” He turned away and walked to the room.
The room was small, but bigger than he’d expected, and filled with antiques. The huge bed was covered in a white comforter and fluffy, goose-down pillows. Brass ornaments gleamed on the dark bureaus, and a loveseat took up the wall to the left of the door. The wallpaper was bright white, with an intricate pattern of green filigree.
If you could travel back in time a hundred years, everything would have looked just like this.
As he tossed his duffel bag on the loveseat, Replacement walked out of the bathroom. “You were right! They have everything—toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, and these little, tiny soaps; they smell really good. I can’t believe they give you all this for free.”
Jack was going to explain that it was included in the rather hefty price of the room, but he didn’t have the heart. Anyway, she’s right: the room is amazing.
He flopped down on the bed and groaned. “It’s so soft. What’s this thing made of?”
She hopped on with him. “I don’t know, but I’m going to love sleeping on this bed.”
He sat bolt upright. “It’s a king.”
She grinned. “Yeah, it’s huge. Isn’t it great?”
“No. Nope. Hold on.”
Jack walked briskly out the door and down to the front desk. The woman who had greeted them looked up as soon as he appeared on the stairs, with that same strange expression, as if she were trying to figure out if she knew him from before somewhere.
“Hi. I’m sorry, but there was a little mix-up with our room.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What can I do for you?”
“There’s only one bed.”
“As our website states, all of our rooms feature a king-size bed. That’s the most historically accurate, in keeping with our theme.”
“All of the rooms?”
She nodded.
“Well, did they have a spare bed or a cot back in the old days?”
She looked half amused, half professionally offended. “Well, I don’t really know. But there’s a sofa in every room as well.”
Jack tried to recall the room. Big canopy bed. Bathroom to the left. Old bureaus . . .
The woman saw Jack thinking. “I can assure you there’s a sofa.”
Jack imagined himself on whatever she was calling a sofa, tossing and turning all night. “Lady, do you have another room?”
“None of our rooms—”
Jack waved his hands to cut her off. “I’ll rent two.”
The woman’s blue eyes registered some emotion, but again, he had no clue what it was. “We’re at full occupancy.”
He put one hand on the counter and leaned in. “No offense, but is there another hotel in town?”
She shook her head, smiling patiently. “The nearest is in Plimpton, and that’s a bit of a drive. And I should mention that once you appear for your reservation, there are no refunds.” She pointed to a sign behind the counter in ornate hand-lettered calligraphy: No Refunds.
“Is that historically accurate?” Jack leaned on the counter. “The Pilgrims didn’t give refunds?”
The woman’s jaw clenched slightly, and Jack felt he’d been a little hard on her.
“It was just a joke.” He smiled tightly, and the woman cautiously mirrored him. He turned and started for the stairs. “Okay. Thanks for your trouble.” He wanted to stomp up the stairs, but he didn’t.
Sleeping on the sofa won’t kill me.
But as soon as he’d marched back into the room, he had to dial back his optimism. The old-fashioned loveseat was a little over four feet long.
Only a kid could sleep on that!
He sat down. The white cushions were only about an inch thick. He rubbed them between his fingers, trying to figure out what they were stuffed with.
Hay?
Replacement stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Are we staying?”
“I guess so.” He tried not to let her see how close to the edge he was.
“Can I take a bath? There’s a
giant tub. I could swim in it.”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
She let out a little squeal and disappeared.
Jack sighed and looked around the room.
Guess they didn’t have TVs in the 1800s either.
Jack was seated on his uncomfortable loveseat making notes on a pad thoughtfully provided by the inn when Replacement finally came out of the bathroom, wearing her new oversize T-shirt and purring like a kitten.
She ran over to Jack and thrust her hand under his nose. “Smell me! Smell me!”
Jack was going to protest, until he got a heady whiff of lilies of the valley. “Mmm, nice.”
“Feel!” Before he could stop her, she grabbed his hand and guided his palm up and down her arm.
He pulled his hand back. “Okay. Enough touching and smelling.”
At times like this, he wondered what her feelings were for him, but he hadn’t figured out his own, so he usually just tried to maintain some distance.
Replacement flopped down on the bed. “Whatcha doing?”
“Making a to-do list.” Jack circled the word LIBRARY.
“Where’s my phone?”
“Over there.” Jack pointed with his pen, making a glowing red dot appear on her phone.
Replacement held out her hand and let the laser pointer dot dance across her wiggling fingers. “Cool!”
“My dad’s pen. He had it for teaching. I’m thinking about duct-taping it to my gun for a laser sight,” Jack joked.
“How come you don’t get a real one? Don’t the police have them?”
“SWAT has them, but Sheriff Collins won’t allow them for fieldwork. I like them, but more as a deterrent.”
“I think pointing a gun at someone would be enough of a deterrent.”
“You’d be surprised. Look at the difference.” Jack aimed the pen at her, but kept the laser turned off. He hammed it up, and his voice shook along with his hand. “Stop where you are!”
Replacement planted her feet and jokingly growled back at him.
“Now . . .” Jack’s eyes narrowed, and in his best Dirty Harry voice he said, “Look at your chest, scumbag.” He clicked the pointer on, and the red dot pinpointed her heart.
Detective Jack Stratton Box Set Page 31
