Detective Jack Stratton Box Set

by Christopher Greyson

  40

  It’s Me

  Jack relaxed into the front seat of the Impala and smiled. He felt great. For the past three days, all he’d done was sleep; the nightmares had stopped. And Replacement had shut off his alarm, so he’d been sleeping until almost noon.

  This morning was different, though: not bad, just different. He woke up very early, and somehow he just knew what he had to do. It was as though he had made a checklist while he was sleeping, and he leapt out of bed to get started on it. He wrote a hasty note for Replacement and slipped away.

  Now the Impala turned onto the road to Hope Falls. It was a long drive, but with no traffic, he made great time. The first stop was the library. One lone interior light was on inside, but he could tell it was closed. He sighed as he walked up to the entrance and looked in. He could almost feel the calmness and smell the wood.

  Maybe I’ll stop back after I see my grandmother.

  Jack grinned. He was looking forward to his surprise visit. He’d decided to come only this morning, so he hadn’t called, but he was sure she wouldn’t mind.

  Jack opened the book return chute. He looked down at the wrapped package in his hands and smiled. Inside were the two yearbooks, and an apology card from Replacement for “accidentally” borrowing them. She’d found them when they were unpacking and had wanted to drive back right then. He’d told her he’d take care of it.

  As he slid the package inside and closed the door, he suppressed the urge to pick up the phone and thank her. Before she’d wrapped up the yearbooks, he’d taken another look at his parents’ photos—and when he opened the book to Patty’s photo, he saw that the graffiti someone had written about her was gone. The paper was a little worn there now, but otherwise you wouldn’t know anyone had ever defaced it.

  Replacement never said a word.

  She’s good like that.

  Jack ran his hand through his hair and headed back to the car. The Impala restarted with a deep roar, and Jack smiled and patted the dashboard. She’d been running even better since Marty had flushed her out. He slipped her into drive and headed back down the road.

  When he hit the gas, the Impala purred, and he settled back into the seat to enjoy the feeling as the car softly rose and fell and the speed increased. His fingers gripped the wheel lightly, and he listened to the engine hum.

  Is this contentment or happiness? Maybe both?

  He pulled the rearview mirror down. A man who needed a shave stared back. Jack smiled and flipped the mirror back up.

  He was about to push the pedal to the floor when he saw the sign up ahead. He let the car slow way down before he pulled in. The Hope Falls Cemetery was set on a few acres of carefully maintained ground. Large trees ringed the edges, and in the middle, a huge oak rose up, its thick branches spread out.

  Jack could feel his muscles tighten as a somber mood seeped in. He looked from the small headstones to a statue of a weeping angel draped over a tomb, its wings hanging in perpetual sorrow. He turned his head away at the sight of a lone teddy bear against a grave.

  Jack tried to look straight ahead as he drove down the narrow road to the back left corner. He never did well with death, and in his twenty-six years he’d seen too much of it. A gallery of faces flashed at the edges of his thoughts.

  None of us make it out of here alive.

  When he reached the back, he stopped and shut the car off. He was grateful that Kristine had told him right where it was, so he didn’t have to search. He made his way down a slightly worn path; he was certain it had been made by Kristine and his grandmother, on their trips to the little headstone.

  His father was buried beside his grandfather. On the granite marker were the words: BELOVED SON. STEVEN RITTER.

  Two weeks ago, I didn’t even know him. Now . . .

  Jack hung his head and stood silently. The first breeze of the morning stirred the grass.

  “Hi, Dad. It’s me, Steven . . .”

  Epilogue

  As still as the mannequin beside her, Marisa peered out of the window of her tattoo parlor at the silver sedan parked across the street. Its dark-tinted windows hid its occupants. Like a little girl at the edge of the cellar stairs, looking into the darkness, she felt the urge to turn and run. She didn’t know why, but she had the feeling someone was watching her.

  What if they find me . . . ? I can’t go back to that living hell again.

  She tried to shake all the old, terrifying, paranoid thoughts from her head. She reached up and turned off the neon OPEN sign. As if connected to the same switch, the sedan’s headlights snapped on at the same moment, and then the car pulled away from the curb. She watched intently as the taillights disappeared down the road.

  “Marisa?” Joey called to her from behind the counter, breaking her from her trance.

  Marisa didn’t turn around as she locked the front door. She tried to drive the old fears away. No one knows who I really am, she reminded herself. Still, even after all these years, she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder.

  Joey thrust his large tattooed arms down driving his hands deep into his pockets. “Ah . . . Marisa?” He looked more like an awkward teen than the tough guy he usually pretended to be. “Is there any chance I could have tomorrow night off?”

  Marisa raised an eyebrow as she walked over to the register. “That’s three days this week.”

  “I know. But I need it, and Shawn can’t cover. It’s kinda important.”

  “Just kinda?” Hiding a smile, Marisa cashed out the register. She knew she’d cover for him, but she wasn’t going to say yes right away. She had to perpetuate her reputation as a hard-nosed businesswoman.

  “No, it’s big.” Joey leaned against the counter, and that goofy I’m-in-love smile that had been appearing regularly on his face showed up again. “I’m having dinner at Rosalie’s. With her parents. First time,” he added.

  Marisa’s face remained neutral as she continued to cash out. She was happy for him. Those little rituals make up a normal life. Somewhere deep inside her chest, the empty ache hurt a little more. How she would have liked a little normal. To bring someone home to meet her parents . . .

  “Marisa?”

  “Sure. I’ve got you covered.”

  “Yes!” Joey pumped his fist as if he had just made a game-winning shot.

  “I take it that things are going well with Rosalie?”

  “Un-flippin’-believably good. She’s . . . We talk about everything.” Joey’s head tipped to the side. “What about you?”

  “Me?” Marisa walked over to the coffee machine and filled a thermos with some hot cocoa.

  “Yeah. It’s like a parade of guys keep coming in, tripping over their tongues to ask you out, but you shoot them down right from the get-go.”

  Marisa huffed and put a hand on her hip.

  “You do!” Joey pressed. “It’s like a running joke. A guy comes in and asks you out, and you’re like, ‘NO!’ Cutting him off like a guillotine.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do. Julie and I were cracking up guessing where the guy today would have taken you. I picked the symphony, and she thought some wine-tasting thing.”

  “The guy in the Audi?” Marisa laughed. “Since he couldn’t take his eyes off my chest, I’d have a different guess about where he wanted to go.”

  “Not every guy is a creep . . .” Joey traced an invisible outline on the counter. “What about that cop guy?” He floated out the question without looking up.

  Jack.

  When Marisa didn’t answer, Joey peeked up at her. Her lips were pressed in a firm line; her brown eyes were as dark and cold as the night outside.

  Joey stepped back from the counter and swallowed. “I, ah . . . I just . . . He seems like—”

  She cut him off. “Let me know how your dinner goes.” She opened the small refrigerator and took out a wrapped ham and cheese sandwich.

  Joey sighed. “Sorry if I overstepped,” he mumbled as he slipped out the back door.
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br />   As Marisa stood alone in the tattoo parlor, that ache in her chest grew a little bigger again.

  Jack.

  The name hurt. It hurt to hear it. Thinking about him hurt even more.

  Like a child, she hurried over to the closed door and stared hopefully out into the darkness, expecting him to walk around the corner at that instant. Jack had been assigned foot patrol downtown. She stood there looking out as a few snowflakes fell past the street light.

  “Tu sei il bello mio,” she whispered to the night. “You’re my beautiful one.”

  She grabbed the thermos and sandwich, turned off the light, and headed out the back. The heavy metal exit door closed behind her with a loud bang.

  The back alley was well lit, and Marisa always made sure it stayed clean. Even the garbage bin and recycling container were neatly arranged. The space between the buildings was just wide enough to back a truck down, but tonight it was empty.

  Marisa started down the alley. Darkened rear doorways and alcoves dotted the wall to the right, and she peered into each recess. She gingerly switched the sandwich to her right hand, careful not to squish it with the thermos.

  The next alcove was covered in shadows. Only one of the three lights above the little loading area was still on. She hesitated. An errant snowflake landed on the back of her neck, and she shivered.

  Footsteps behind her made her jump. She turned.

  A thin homeless man shuffled down the alley straight toward her. His thick, worn jacket flared out around him. Beneath the coat was a rainbow of different clothes and materials. He slowed to a stop in front of her. His fingers twitched at his sides, and his upper body rocked slightly back and forth.

  “Who’s there?” The man ran his hand down his unkempt beard. Wild brown and gray hair poked out from underneath a brown knit cap pulled low. From behind round glasses, he gazed at Marisa with hungry eyes, but his eyebrows pulled together warily.

  “Hi, Thaddeus. It’s me, Marisa.” She held out the sandwich and thermos.

  “Oh.” A broad smile crossed his face, and his cheeks flushed red. “Evenin’, Ms. Vitagliano.” He reached out eagerly and took the gifts. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s something to me.” Thaddeus looked at the ground.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the shelter tonight? It’s going to be cold.”

  Thaddeus shook his head and moved closer. Marisa tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. “I got layers.” He pulled at his thick, worn jacket.

  “Well, if you get too cold, be sure to head over.” Marisa smiled, turned, and walked on.

  “Will do, Ms. Vitagliano.” He waved, then darted into a darkened doorway with his meal. “Thanks again,” he called out.

  Marisa wrapped her arms around her waist as she made her way down the alley. The whole stretch ahead was pitch-black. She frowned. She had just had the landlord fix that light. She made a mental note to take care of it tomorrow.

  As she neared the darkness, she stopped. Snowflakes floated down around her face, but something else drifted on the cold wind, too. The faintest whiff of cologne reached her nose. Bile rose up in her throat.

  They say the strongest memories are not visual images but scent. That smell resurrected a life that she thought she had left buried in the past. Images slammed into her mind as she thought about that day she couldn’t forget; the day when everything good she knew died. She shook. In her mind’s eye, she could see his face once more.

  “Hello, Angelica.” A man in an H. Huntsman suit walked out of the shadows. “It’s been a long time.”

  Marisa trembled. She’d seen this killer’s face in her dreams a thousand times, but it had been years since she’d heard his voice. It cut deep. Old wounds ripped open, and terror held her fast.

  A malevolent grin spread across the man’s face as he strode toward her. The heels of his expensive shoes on the tar sounded like gunshots to her ears. With each step, she flinched.

  From some memory long since buried, she heard another voice, screaming to her from the past: “Run, Angelica! Run!”

  She turned to flee—but another man rushed out from the darkness and grabbed her. A rag was clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream. As she inhaled the fumes, the last thing she remembered was him . . .

  Find out what happens in the next thrilling installment: Jacks Are Wild

  Handsome white knight Jack Stratton is back in this action-packed, thrilling adventure. When his sexy old flame disappears, no one thinks it’s suspicious, except Jack and one unbalanced witness. Jack feels in his gut that something is wrong. He knows Marisa has a past, and if it ever caught up with her . . . it would be deadly.

  Determined to buck the critics and listen to his instincts, he and his feisty young sidekick plunge ahead and start tracking down leads, hoping to find Marisa in time. The trail leads them into all sorts of trouble, and lands them smack in the middle of an all-out mob war between the Italian Mafia and the Japanese Yakuza. When evidence surfaces that Marisa was kidnapped, Jack must navigate through the warring parties, assassins, and cold-blooded hit men to outwit the cunning kidnappers before it’s too late. As the body count rises, the stakes in this game are life and death—with no rules except one—Jacks are wild.

  The Detective Jack Stratton Mystery-Thriller Series

  The Detective Jack Stratton Mystery-Thriller Series, authored by Wall Street Journal bestselling writer Christopher Greyson, has 5,000+ five-star reviews and over a million readers and counting. If you’d love to read another page-turning thriller with mystery, humor, and a dash of romance, pick up the next book in the highly acclaimed series today:

  And Then She Was GONE

  A hometown hero with a heart of gold, Jack Stratton was raised in a whorehouse by his prostitute mother. When his foster mother asks him to look into a missing girl’s disappearance, Jack quickly gets drawn into a baffling mystery. As Jack digs deeper, everyone becomes a suspect—including himself. Caught between the criminals and the cops, can Jack discover the truth in time to save the girl? Or will he become the next victim?

  GIRL JACKED

  Guilt has driven a wedge between Jack and the family he loves. When Jack, now a police officer, hears the news that his foster sister Michelle is missing, it cuts straight to his core. The police think she just took off, but Jack knows Michelle would never leave her loved ones behind—like he did. Forced to confront the demons from his past, Jack must take action, find Michelle, and bring her home... or die trying.

  JACK KNIFED

  Constant nightmares have forced Jack to seek answers about his rough childhood and the dark secrets hidden there. The mystery surrounding Jack’s birth father leads Jack to investigate the twenty-seven-year-old murder case in Hope Falls.

  JACKS ARE WILD

  When Jack’s sexy old flame disappears, no one thinks it’s suspicious except Jack and one unbalanced witness. Jack feels in his gut that something is wrong. He knows that Marisa has a past, and if it ever caught up with her—it would be deadly. The trail leads him into all sorts of trouble—landing him smack in the middle of an all-out mob war between the Italian Mafia and the Japanese Yakuza.

  JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER

  Rogue hero Jack Stratton is back in another action-packed, thrilling adventure. While recovering from a gunshot wound, Jack gets a seemingly harmless private investigation job—locate the owner of a lost dog—Jack begrudgingly assists. Little does he know it will place him directly in the crosshairs of a merciless serial killer.

  DATA JACK

  When Replacement gets a job setting up a computer network for a jet-setting software tycoon things turn deadly for her and Jack. Can Jack and Alice stop a pack of ruthless criminals before they can Data Jack?

  JACK OF HEARTS

  Jack Stratton is heading south for some fun in the sun. Already nervous about introducing his girlfriend, Alice, to his parents, the last thing Jack needed was for the dog-sitter
to cancel, forcing him to bring Lady, their 120-pound King Shepherd, on the plane with them. The dog holds Jack responsible and wants payback. On top of everything, Jack is still waiting for Alice’s answer to his marriage proposal.

  When his mother and the members of her neighborhood book club ask him to catch the “Orange Blossom Cove Bandit,” a small-time thief who’s stealing garden gnomes and peace of mind from their quiet retirement community, how can Jack refuse?

  The peculiar mystery proves to be more than it appears, and things take a deadly turn. Now, Jack finds it’s up to him to stop a crazed killer, save his parents, and win the hand of the girl he loves—but if he survives, will it be Jack who ends up with a broken heart?

  JACK FROST

  Jack has a new assignment: to investigate the suspicious death of a soundman on the hit TV show Planet Survival. Jack goes undercover as a security agent where the show is filming on nearby Mount Minuit. Soon trapped on the treacherous peak by a blizzard, a mysterious killer continues to stalk the cast and crew of Planet Survival. What started out as a game is now a deadly competition for survival. As the temperature drops and the body count rises, what will get them first? The mountain or the killer?

  JACK OF DIAMONDS