Jack tapped the page. “That’s number four on my list. Number five is why was Stacy’s cell phone in the car and not her handbag?”
Chandler scrunched up his nose and closed one eye. But his train of thought was derailed by an enormous yawn. “We can get answers tomorrow. You should go to bed.”
“You came in here to tell me that?”
Chandler grinned. “Yeah. I know you. You’re getting all wound up. Let it go. Go to sleep.”
“I will.”
Chandler walked back to the door. “I almost forgot. Happy birthday.” He grinned.
Jack didn’t. “It’s not until tomorrow.”
“It already is tomorrow.” He pointed at the clock; it was after midnight. “Think about it. Eleven years ago, you got to meet me. Best birthday present ever, huh?”
Jack chuckled. “Go to bed, Mr. Humble.”
Chandler yawned. “’Night.”
Jack picked up his pen, turned back to his notebook, and sketched out the crime scene. When he couldn’t remember a detail, he closed his eyes until he could picture it. He was thinking, tapping the pen against the page, when somewhere inside the house he heard a girl scream.
Jack raced to the bedroom door. Another scream came, and this one was definitely close by; the terrorized shriek echoed down the hall. He ripped open the door just as the scream trailed off.
In the bedroom directly across from Jack’s, a girl cried out, “GET OFF ME!”
Jack grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door. Wood splintered, and broken pieces flew as the door smashed open.
Replacement lay in her bed. Jack ran over to her. Her green eyes were filled with terror, and her whole body was rigid. “GET OFF ME!” she shrieked again.
Jack looked frantically around the room for her attacker, but there was no one. He gently touched Replacement’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Behind him, Chandler and Michelle charged into the room. Michelle immediately raced over to Replacement and wrapped her arms around her. Replacement’s eyes were open, but by now Jack didn’t think she was actually awake.
Aunt Haddie appeared in the doorway. She and Michelle exchanged a knowing look.
“Shh,” Michelle whispered as she held and rocked Replacement. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
Replacement shook her head and blinked rapidly. She looked at Michelle as if she’d never seen her before. Then she burst into tears and buried her face in Michelle’s shoulder.
Jack looked down at the frightened girl. He didn’t know what to do for her.
“Come on, boys.” Aunt Haddie ushered Jack and Chandler out of the room. She pulled the door closed, then frowned when she saw the broken lock.
“Sorry.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I heard the scream, and it was locked.”
“That’s okay.” Aunt Haddie patted his cheek. “Always the white knight. I’m sure you and Chandler can fix it.”
“Me?” Chandler pointed at Jack. “Just because he doesn’t know how to turn a doorknob, I…” Chandler trailed off when Aunt Haddie’s eyebrow rose. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”
Jack tipped his head toward Replacement’s bedroom. “What’s wrong with her?”
They could hear muffled sobbing now.
Aunt Haddie shook her head. “Night terrors. Poor little angel. She’s been through hell.” Aunt Haddie’s eyes teared up. “She’ll be okay. The good Lord willing, she’ll be okay. You boys go to bed now.” She kissed them both and then went downstairs.
Chandler walked back to his room.
“Sorry about the door,” Jack called after him.
Chandler stopped. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t you I was mad at.” His muscles tensed and his eyes smoldered. “She’s such a good kid. Who’d hurt someone like that? Some people are just evil.” He went into his bedroom and closed the door.
Jack did the same. When he turned off the desk lamp, the darkness seemed even deeper now than it had before. He lay down on the bed. Still unable to fall asleep, he began making plans.
I need to find out more about Stacy Shaw. Who she was.
He interlaced his fingers behind his head and thought about a woman he’d never met. Stacy was someone’s daughter. Someone’s wife. And Jack knew he wasn’t just trying to prove Jay was innocent. He was doing something more. He was trying to catch the person who’d killed a young mother whose life had just begun and the baby that never had a chance.
Jack closed his eyes. His lids felt so heavy he knew he wouldn’t open them again until morning.
The killer waited for her. He rushed her in the dark. Then he dragged her into the woods.
Jack heard his heart thump loudly.
Chandler’s words made his stomach tighten. Some people are evil.
Just before he slipped into sleep, he realized: I’m hunting a monster.
23
Spirit Day
As Jack and Chandler walked out the back door of Aunt Haddie’s the next morning, they found Replacement sitting on the steps with her head in her hands. The samurai-style ponytail on top of her head sagged along with her shoulders.
“What’s the matter?” Chandler asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
Chandler squatted down and eyed her suspiciously.
She made a face. “Today’s Fairfield Town Spirit Day at the community center, but I don’t have anything that says Fairfield to wear.”
“Just ask Michelle. She has stuff,” Chandler said.
Replacement’s ponytail danced back and forth as she shook her head. “Nope. She has two Fairfield shirts, but she’s wearing one and she’s letting Moisha wear the other.”
“I’m sure Michelle didn’t know,” Chandler said.
“I know that.” She pouted. “And I know Michelle would give me her own shirt if I asked, which is why I’m not asking.”
“Does it have to be a middle school shirt?” Jack asked.
Replacement didn’t look up. “No. Just anything with Fairfield on it.”
Jack looked down at the logo on his shirt and then pulled the t-shirt off. He held it out to her. “It’ll be huge on you, but it’s a Fairfield High shirt.”
She stared up at him, blinking, but didn’t reach out for the shirt.
“I just put it on.” Jack sniffed the shirt. “It’s clean.”
Her mouth dropped open, and slowly she reached out for the shirt.
Chandler laughed at Jack. “You gonna go out half-naked, or do you want me to run upstairs and get you another shirt?”
“Nah. I got a clean shirt in the trunk.”
Replacement suddenly rose to her feet, clutching Jack’s shirt to her chest, and bolted inside.
“You’re welcome, kid,” Jack muttered.
Chandler smacked his arm as they walked to the car. “Wow, man. You just made Replacement’s month. Hell, I bet she never forgets that.”
“What?” Jack shrugged. “It’s a shirt.”
Chandler shook his head. “Sometimes you’re clueless.”
“What?”
“I probably shouldn’t say anything, but—Michelle told me that Replacement has a huge crush on you. Besides, you remember what it was like. How many people do you think would do something like that for her?”
“You, for one.” Jack opened the trunk, grabbed a clean gym shirt, and pulled it on.
Chandler made a face. “You know I would.” Then he smiled. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this either, but Michelle said Replacement thinks you’re like Batman. But”—his chest puffed up—“she thinks I’m like Superman.”
“That’s cool.” Jack opened the door to the Impala and hopped in.
Chandler got in too. “That’s cool? I know you’d rather be Superman.”
“Are you kidding me? Think it through. Superman has a nine-to-five job. He digs a chick who doesn’t know he’s alive, and she has the hots for his alter ego.”
“Yeah, but Superman can’t be hurt b
y bullets.”
“So what? Bruce Wayne is a boy billionaire. Babes abound. Catwoman. He doesn’t work. Sweet cars. Sleeps all day and fights crime at night. And he has a butler. There’s no contest.”
“Superman can fly,” Chandler said. “Case closed.”
Jack laughed and rolled down his window. He felt it in the air that today was going to be a scorcher.
“This isn’t the way to your house,” Chandler said.
“Really?” Jack smiled sheepishly.
“What now? Almost getting arrested wasn’t enough?”
“Five minutes.”
Chandler sighed. “A lot can happen in five minutes.”
Jack drove to Morton’s Hill and parked the Impala across the street from Stacy Shaw’s little yellow ranch. It was a pretty home with flowerboxes in the windows. The grass was long and needed a cut.
Jack settled back into his seat and stared at the house. After a minute, Chandler shifted uncomfortably.
“What?” Jack asked.
“You’re parked sorta close.”
“Close to what?”
“The house.” Chandler pointed. “In the movies, they always park sorta far away. Or in a van with dark windows or something.”
“I’m not staking it out.”
“Then why are we here?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Couldn’t you do your thinking at home?”
Jack ran his knuckle along the door panel. “No. You’re supposed to try to get inside the victim’s head. I guess that’s what I’m doing.”
“I thought people say you want to get into the killer’s head.”
“That too. But I figure you should get to know the victim. Kinda like the guys who spot counterfeit bills. They don’t look at fake bills; they study the real ones. That way, when they see a counterfeit, it sets off alarms in their head.”
“Do you have any alarms going off?”
“No. But I just keep wondering why she walked back to work and not here. If she hadn’t walked through Hamilton Park, she’d be alive right now.”
“That’s creepy.” Chandler suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh no… Damn.”
“What?”
“The guy’s coming over.”
Michael Shaw was walking across his yard, straight toward the Impala. He was wearing shorts and flip-flops.
Vargas’s warning echoed in Jack’s head. If I catch you within ten yards of anything to do with my investigation…
Jack stomped on the gas. The engine revved, but the car didn’t go anywhere—it was in park.
“Go, go!” Chandler urged.
Jack dropped the gearshift into drive. The engine sputtered and died. “Crap.”
“Hey!” Michael called out.
Jack slammed the transmission back into park and started the car again.
“Hello?” Michael yelled as he stepped forward.
Jack started to put the car into drive, but his hand hesitated on the gearshift. “This is our chance to talk to him,” he whispered.
“What? No. Just go.” Chandler’s hand twitched as though he was moving the gear himself.
Jack shut off the engine and got out of the car. He called out to Michael, “I think something’s wrong with the carburetor.” He walked over to the hood, looked through the windshield at Chandler, and pointed to the driver’s side of the car. “When I tell you, start it up.”
Chandler shot a nasty look at Jack, but he slid across the bench seat and behind the steering wheel.
Jack lifted the hood and slotted in the rod to hold it in place. “I hope we didn’t wake you up with the car noise.”
Michael walked over. “Nah, I was up. I just didn’t know what you were doing out here.” He frowned, and his ruddy complexion went a little paler. “There’ve been reporters all over the place this last week.”
“Give it a little gas,” Jack called to Chandler while he fiddled with a lever. “Reporters? Why?”
Michael stared at Jack, and his eyes became even redder. He blew his nose. Jack saw this was an opening to ask him some questions about Stacy, but he struggled for the right words to get him talking. “Are you famous or something?”
“No.” Michael cleared his throat. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”
“I think I can get her going.”
Michael exhaled. “Maybe I can help.” He leaned his head forward and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes were rimmed red. “Is it stalling?”
“Yeah. It’s been doing that lately.”
“It could just be some bad gas.” Michael sneezed, then blew his nose again. “Damn pollen.”
“Allergies?”
“Yeah. Pretty severe this time of year.”
“Sorry. I know those can get pretty bad.” Jack then called out to Chandler, “Try to start it.”
Chandler started the engine and held the gas down. Jack adjusted the carburetor.
“Ease off,” Jack called out. He looked over at the house, scanning for anything that might have a bearing on the case. He was drawing a complete blank.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael was watching him. With a greasy finger, Jack pointed behind Michael’s house. “I used to cut through your yard to go sledding up on Morton’s Hill.”
“Oh, yeah. The realtor told us that kids do that.” Michael smiled. “My wife and I…” His grin quickly soured. “There’s a big tree up the top. She wanted me to put a swing up there for…” He cleared his throat. His eyes glistened. He rubbed them with the back of his hands. “I gotta get some sleep.”
Jack felt bad for the guy.
“Look, I’ll call a tow for you guys,” Michael said.
“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it going enough to make it home.” Jack grabbed the rod and closed the hood. “Sorry again for being loud.”
“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I was up.”
Jack walked over to the driver’s side as Chandler slid over. “Have a good day.”
“You too.”
Jack waved, and so did Michael.
As they drove away, Chandler exhaled loudly. “That freaked me out. Did you talk about anything?”
“No.” Jack rubbed the side of his face. “I couldn’t ask him about… you know. I just felt bad for him. I guess I’ve been thinking of the guy like a piece in the puzzle and not a person. But when I saw him face to face…”
“He looked bad. Like he hasn’t slept in a while,” Chandler said.
“It looked like he’d been crying. Sucks.”
Chandler looked out the window. “I’d go out of my mind if someone I loved was murdered.”
24
On Borrowed Time
Jack sat at his computer while Chandler lay on Jack’s bed, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it again. Jack’s mom and dad weren’t home, which came as a relief to Jack. He hadn’t faced either of them since almost getting arrested. He didn’t want to see disappointment in their eyes.
“Nina’s going out with Bobbie G tomorrow,” Jack said. Apparently Nina put just about every facet of her life on Facebook.
“She just wants to tick off Two Point.”
“Probably.”
Jack had been hoping Facebook would allow him to find out more about some of the people involved in the case—especially Leland Chambers—but it seemed that social media wasn’t a great source of information, unless your name was Nina. So he clicked over to the Fairfield Times website to see if anything new had been reported. And sure enough, the lead headline read, “Grand Jury Set to Convene in Stacy Shaw Homicide.”
Chandler read over his shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re running out of time.” Jack opened his email app.
“So what’s the plan now?” Chandler asked.
“Remember those two business cards Stacy had in her handbag? I’m sending them emails to see if Stacy had an appointment or anything.”
“That sounds like a long shot.”
“It i
s, but maybe Stacy was heading there. Luisa’s Luxe Hair Studio is across from the park on Holland Street, and it’s open till nine.”
Chandler shook his head. “I bet they don’t tell you diddly. Some random guy sends an email asking if a murdered woman had an appointment? And you think they’ll respond? Especially that fertility clinic. They have all those privacy laws and the whole patient confidentiality thing.”
“I know,” Jack said, “but Detective Clark says you should follow up on every lead. The serial killer Son of Sam was caught because of a parking ticket.”
“Sounds to me like you’re running out of ideas.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
The front door opened. “Are you upstairs, Jack?” his mother called out.
“Hey, Mom,” Jack replied. “Be down in a second.”
Chandler headed for the bedroom door. “I still can’t get over Nina. Bobbie G was seeing Evy. No good’s gonna come of that.”
Jack got up too, but stopped in the doorway. “Wait a minute.” He spun around and jumped back on the computer. He pulled up one of the Facebook pages he had been looking at, and checked the page owner’s relationship status. Single.
Jack hurried out of his room and down the stairs.
“I didn’t think you’d be home this early,” his mom said. “Happy birthday.” She kissed his cheek, then gave Chandler a hug. “Did you boys eat breakfast?”
His mom didn’t even mention the incident in the park. But she did give Jack a questioning smile. She was probably searching his face for any hint that his disgust for “Garbage Day” had lessened. It hadn’t.
“We’re good,” Jack said. “Hey, can I borrow your car?”
“Is something wrong with yours?”
“Nope. I’m just… doing a test. I’ll fill up the tank.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She walked over to her handbag and pulled out the keys.
“You don’t need it for work?” Jack asked.
“No, Mrs. Dillard will be picking me up in a few minutes, so I won’t be needing it. She and I are going to Foal Brook High to give them a hand with their new record-keeping system.”
And Then She Was GONE: A riveting new suspense novel that keeps you guessing until the end Page 21
