Sorry, I can’t have you guys following me. It’s too dangerous.
He rushed out to the car. Behind him, he heard Replacement shouting, “Wait! Jack!” He hopped in the Bug and locked the doors before Replacement could get in. She pulled on the handle in vain.
“Jack, don’t do this!”
Jack started the Bug and drove off as Replacement turned and ran back to the inn.
32
Beg
Jack stopped in front of the old farmhouse in a cloud of dust. He gripped the wheel and tried to slow his breathing, but he was still almost panting with fury as he headed for the house.
He counted three trucks and four cars parked around the front, some on the semicircular driveway, some on the grass. Most of them didn’t look like they were in working condition—till his gaze stopped on an old white pickup with a broken taillight.
It was the truck that had followed him around town.
Jack started up the steps to the wide porch. Just as he reached the top step, the front door opened and a man stepped out. He was dressed in blue jeans, boots, and a tan work coat. He looked to be around Jack’s age, and he was of medium build, both in height and weight. He was carrying a big cardboard box. Preoccupied with his task, he didn’t see Jack at first, but when he turned to close the door, he spotted Jack—and froze.
The box slipped from his hands and landed with a loud crash. Bits of glass scattered over the porch floor. For a few seconds the two men just stood there, staring at each other. Jack waited.
Then the man sucked in a long, deep breath, and his eyes grew large. “Get outta here!” He sounded more nervous than angry. “Leave. Now.”
“You’re the one who’s been following me.” Jack stepped forward. His foot crunched a piece of broken glass.
“Are you okay, Randy?” a woman called from inside.
Randy glanced over his shoulder. “Stay inside, Mom.”
Jack grabbed him by the jacket, spun him around, and slammed him into the side of the house. “You tried to kill me.”
Randy went even whiter. “What? No.”
Jack shook Randy by his jacket like a ragdoll. “You shot at me.”
“No!” Randy held up his hands. “I don’t even have a gun.”
Randy’s mom called out again. “Randy, what’s going on out there?”
Randy couldn’t answer, though, because Jack was shaking him so hard his teeth clacked.
“You know who killed my father!” Jack roared like a demon set free. “WHERE IS SHE?”
A woman ran out the front door and squeezed herself between Jack and Randy. “Please don’t hurt him,” she wailed. To Jack’s complete surprise, it was the librarian, Mae. She tugged on Jack’s arms, but she might as well have been pulling against stone.
“They didn’t do it. They didn’t kill him.” She was crying hysterically.
Jack scowled and let Randy go. “Explain.”
Mae nodded, sniffling. “I was there. We all were. Billy, Bobby, Terri, and me. But they didn’t kill him.” Mae tried to catch her breath. “My brother Bobby liked Patty, but Patty liked Steven. So my sister Terri tricked Steven to go to the pond. She told him Patty would be there.”
“She set him up.” Jack’s voice was a barely controlled snarl.
Mae nodded once, embarrassed and flushed. “Yes. They all waited for him.” She started to cry again. “Patty didn’t know. She didn’t. Bobby confronted Steven at the fire pit. They got in a big fight. Steven started winning . . .”
Jack’s throat tightened. “So Billy jumped in too.”
Mae didn’t look at Jack. “They beat him up pretty bad, but they didn’t kill him. I swear. Steven was alive when we took off.”
“Why did you take off?”
“We saw emergency lights in the parking lot. Someone must have called about the fight. So we ran.”
Jack held up his hand. “What kind of lights? Police?”
“Maybe. I couldn’t see the car, just the lights. They pulled into the parking lot.” Mae wrung her hands. “I liked Steven. I didn’t know what was going to happen, I was just along for the ride.”
Jack closed his eyes, and his words were clipped. “Where are your brothers? Let them explain it to me.”
“They moved to Reno. I haven’t spoken to them in years.”
“I need to speak to Terri. Let her tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” Mae said, tears still running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Aunt Terri died,” Randy answered for his mother. “Breast cancer. Three years ago.”
Jack glared at Randy. “Why were you following me?”
“It’s my fault,” Mae answered. “When you came to the library, right away I saw you were looking at the microfiche of the murder. I just knew who you were. I recognized you—him—You look just like him. And I told my son Randy. I was—afraid, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” Randy said. “I’ll pay for your car. I’ll pay for the tires.”
“You’ll do more than that. You shot at me. You’re both going to jail.”
“No! I swear! I slashed your tires and put sugar in your tank, but I was just trying to scare you off. I swear I didn’t shoot at you. I’ll pay for the damage. But please. My mom had nothing to do with killing your father. And she didn’t know I was following you, either. I swear it on my father’s grave.”
Jack felt as if an anvil had fallen on his chest. He walked down the steps and over to the Bug. He leaned against the car, holding on to the roof. Kristine’s car roared down the driveway and skidded to a stop. Kristine and Replacement jumped out.
Guess she had spare keys.
They ran over beside him, and Replacement gently laid a hand on his back. “Jack?”
He felt as though she called to him from far away.
Jack looked over his shoulder at the house. Randy had his arm around Mae’s shoulders and was leading her back inside.
Jack hung his head. “They didn’t do it.”
“Well, then, who did?” Kristine said.
33
Gracie
That afternoon they gathered in the little room behind the front desk at the inn to compare notes.
Kristine put down her teacup. “You’re certain they didn’t kill Steven?”
Jack leaned back in the loveseat with his arms crossed. “Yeah. A woman who lives across the pond confirmed it. She saw the emergency lights, and a little while later, Patty showed up, asking to call the police. I thought she got the order of events screwed up, but she was right. Steven was alive when the other kids left. They got in a fight, but they ran when they saw the emergency lights.”
“Lights . . .” Replacement said. “If it was police lights, do you think it was Henry Cooper? Frank McCann?”
“Maybe, but it could’ve been an emergency vehicle. There’s an auxiliary fire station right near the pond. We need to get a list of who was on duty that night.”
Kristine stood up. “I know just the person to ask. The emergency dispatcher back then is a friend of your grandmother’s. Her name’s Gracie.”
A half hour later, Jack and Replacement stood at the door of a cute colonial. An older man responded to their knock. “Jack? Alice?” He motioned for them to come in. “I’m Thomas Hickoring. You’re here to see my Gracie.”
“Yes,” Jack said. “Thank you, sir.”
The house was bright and cheery, with polished wood floors. As they entered, Jack could smell cinnamon and apples cooking, and even though he wasn’t hungry, his stomach growled. Thomas walked ahead of them and held open a glass-paned door to the family room.
“Gracie! It’s Jack and Alice to see you.”
Gracie was waiting with her hands folded in her lap and one leg propped up on a footstool. She beckoned them with both hands. “Come in,” she said. “I’m so sorry I can’t get up just yet.”
“Not at all, ma’am,” Jack replied. “I’m sorry to be bothering you. I didn’t know . . .”
“Sit right down he
re and let’s talk.”
Replacement sat on the couch right next to the old woman and Jack settled into a high-back chair.
Thomas asked if he could get them something to eat or drink.
“No, thank you, sir. I only have a few questions.”
“You take your time, son.” Thomas took a chair next to Gracie, reached out, and squeezed his wife’s hands. “We go to church with your grandmother. If there’s anything we can do, anything at all . . .”
Gracie patted his leg. “My Thomas has a caring heart. We knew your father, Jack. He was a lovely boy.”
“Thank you, ma’am. You were the police dispatcher?”
“Oh, I was the dispatcher for everything,” she said. “Police, fire, and the EMTs. Not to mention secretary, log keeper, bottle washer . . .” She smiled with pride.
“Did you take the emergency call that night?”
She nodded. “Yes, I remember. It was a young girl. She was just about hysterical. I couldn’t make everything out, but I called Henry and the fire station to send the ambulance. The systems weren’t connected then, so I had to call them both individually.”
“Did you get any calls before that one, about a fight or any sort of disturbance at Buckmaster Pond?”
“No. It was a real quiet day, and an even quieter night.”
“I read the report about the call. Henry Cooper was on patrol that night?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me a little about Henry?”
At the question, both Gracie and Thomas frowned. Gracie paused before answering. “Henry is a troubled soul. I hope and pray for him, but he’s always battled his demons: drink, women, anger . . . He has a lot of flaws. We all do.”
“And Frank McCann came out that night too?”
“Of course. Frank takes his job very seriously. He says he sleeps with the police scanner next to his bed.”
“Do you know Frank well?”
Gracie smiled. “I’ve known him for almost thirty-five years. We worked together for twenty. He’s dedicated his life to community service. I think that’s why he never married.”
“Do you remember if Frank took a cruiser home with him?”
“Yes,” said Gracie. “We had three cruisers at that time. They usually left one at the station, but Henry and Frank took theirs home.”
Replacement cut in. “Was the third police car at the station that night?”
“No.”
Jack and Replacement exchanged a glance. “Where was it?” Jack asked.
“The chief and I had it,” Thomas said. “We went to Pinkerton for a conference. I was on the auxiliary force then.”
“And you’re sure it was that same day?”
“Sure I’m sure.” Thomas nodded emphatically. “The chief was giving a talk to the volunteers in Pinkerton and asked me to come with him. We were there when Gracie got ahold of me to tell me about what happened at the pond, and I told the chief. He drove back here like a bat outta hell. That man loved your father.”
Gracie squeezed Thomas’s hand. “Thomas did, too. Steven was in his scout troop.”
Thomas snapped his fingers and got up. “I’ve got something for you, Jack.” He hurried out of the room.
“That little auxiliary fire station out near Buckmaster,” Jack said to Gracie. “Was it manned that night?”
“Oh, no,” said Gracie. “They just kept a truck out there. Back then, emergency services were all volunteers.”
“Do you think I could get a list of who the volunteers were that night?”
Gracie sighed. “Well, I suppose I can write one up for you. It may take a couple of hours, and I’d like to call around.” She tapped the side of her head. “The old brain power plant’s not what it used to be.”
Thomas returned, carrying a wooden plaque. He held it out to Jack. “Take a look. This is from back in Steven’s scouting days.”
Jack took it. Mounted on the left side was a compass, and on the right was an engraved jackknife. In the middle was a picture of a large Boy Scout troop.
Thomas pointed. “There’s Steven, right there. And in the back row, there’s the chief, Frank McCann, and Henry Cooper. On the end there, that’s Kristine’s brother, Dale.”
“He’s an EMT,” Gracie added.
“I’m not in the photo, because I was taking the picture,” Thomas said. “Anyway”—he looked up at Jack—“I’d like you to have it.”
Jack held the treasure in both hands. “Thank you for this. It’s very important to me.”
34
Jacked Up
“How’s my car?” Jack asked Marty. He had insisted they head for the garage as soon as they left Gracie’s. Now they were staring up at the Impala, jacked up on a lift with its gas tank off. Not a good sign.
“It was sugar in the gas tank. Good news is, whoever did it really hates you. They used so much sugar it gunked up the gas lines before too much got to the engine. So you lucked out there—I don’t think it damaged the engine. But we still have to flush everything out, and I should replace the lines.”
“How long?”
Marty wiped his hands on a greasy rag. “At least a couple more days.”
Jack didn’t want to ask the next question. “How much?”
“It ain’t gonna be cheap.” Marty looked back at the car. “The engine’s got a lot of miles on her. You might want to think about—”
“Nope. Fix her.”
Marty smiled. “I understand.”
“Mr. Stratton?” Marty’s son, Matty, was peering at something under the back bumper. “I think you should see this.”
Jack didn’t like the sound of that. He ducked under the car and looked up. Matty pointed at a small black box. “Is this some kind of hide-a-key? I went to take it off, but the magnet is really strong.” To demonstrate, he started to pull at it.
“Don’t.” Jack’s voice was low and commanding.
Matty’s hand froze.
Jack forced a smile. “I’m an officer in Darrington, and we all have GPS on our off-duty cars.” He patted Matty on his back as he lied.
“They track you off-duty, too? That sucks.” Matty rolled his eyes.
Jack turned back to Marty. “Well, thank you for your time. Let me know when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
Jack and Replacement walked across the lot to the little blue VW, and he held up the keys. He didn’t have to say a thing; she snatched the keys and headed for the driver’s side.
As Jack walked around the back of the car, he squatted down as if he was tying his shoe. Then he reached under the bumper and felt around. His fingers found another box.
So, someone else has been following me.
Jack walked around and got in the passenger seat.
“Where to?” Replacement asked.
“Ron’s Bait, Tackle, and Sports.”
Replacement pulled out and headed north. Traffic was light, and she appeared to relax behind the wheel. But after a few miles, her light drumming on the steering wheel turned into more aggressive strikes.
“Someone put a GPS on your car?” she asked. She didn’t look at Jack.
“And on this car, too.”
“What?” Replacement looked down as if she were now sitting on a bomb.
“It’s actually a good thing.”
“A good thing?” Her voice went high. “I don’t see how that can be a good thing.”
“I’m going to use it.”
“Is that why we’re going to Ron’s?”
“That’s part of it.”
“Is the person following us now?”
“I hope so. I want them to know I went to Ron’s.”
“What’re we getting there?”
“You’ll see.”
Ron adjusted his glasses as he read down the list of equipment that Jack needed. “Okay, I’ve got everything except the dry suit,” he said. “You could try Finneran’s Scuba in Yardborough. It’s about four hours up north.” Ron glanced at his watch. �
��But they’d be closed by the time you get there.”
Jack shook his head. “That won’t work. I’m going at first light.”
Replacement’s mouth dropped open. “You’re planning on going scuba diving? Where?”
“Buckmaster.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going to look for . . .”
Jack nodded.
“Why do you need a dry suit? Can’t you use a wet suit?”
“No. The water’s too cold.”
Ron leaned against the counter. “Well, actually, you could use a wet suit and just duct-tape the wrists and openings. You can put some really warm water down the suit, and you should be good to go for twenty or twenty-five minutes. But I wouldn’t push it more than that.”
“Twenty-five at a time?”
“Yeah, but make sure you warm up in between. Otherwise you’re risking hypothermia, a frozen regulator, or a host of other bad things that you don’t want to happen when you’re underwater.”
“Do you have an ice regulator?”
Ron nodded. “I got one. Still, keep the dive to twenty-five minutes. Any more and you’re asking for problems.”
Jack grabbed a roll of duct tape. “Great. I’ll take the wet suit in petite.”
Ron and Replacement both looked confused.
“Alice.” Jack lowered his voice and put his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t plan on going myself. I need you to go in for me.”
Replacement shook as though someone had hit her with a Taser. “Me?” she gasped. “I can’t even swim.”
“You don’t have to swim. You just have to hold on to a rope while I lower you into the water.”
“Lower me into the water? Freezing cold water? Are you crazy?”
When Jack laughed, she slammed both hands into his chest. Then he laughed harder, and she understood.
“You big jerk! You were just messing with me!” She punched him in the arm. Jack was still laughing as he handed Ron his credit card.
“That’ll be one large men’s wet suit, please, to fit the big jerk.”
Detective Jack Stratton Box Set Page 45
