Jack remembered the phosphorus bombs and swallowed.
Is that what happened to Mike? If Chandler hadn’t broken down that door . . .
Jack could still see the blue and white flames swirling together before turning crimson.
“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” Mike leaned forward, and Jack nodded.
Silence descended on the room as the men replayed the flames in their own minds. Jack closed his eyes and rubbed them with his hands.
“What does Franklin teach?”
“Psychology. I was taking Drugs, Youth, and the Mind. He’s into imaging.”
“Like pretending?”
Mike laughed hard. “Not imagining, imaging. Pictures. He takes pictures of your mind, with computers.”
Jack grimaced. This was the second time this morning someone spoke to him as if he was stupid. “I just heard about that. Is that with the fMRI?”
I think that’s what he called it.
“At the center? Yeah. They hook you up and take images of your brain. They give you different drugs and watch your head. They make you take off all your rings and stuff.” He pointed at his earring that hung off what was left of his ear. “I was nervous when I first went in. I heard a story of this guy who was harpooned by a chair that flew up and crashed into the machine. It was something to do with the metal.”
“Because of the magnets?”
“Something like that.”
“Do they give you meth?” Jack sat up.
“Sort of. You can get a prescription for ADHD and stuff like that. They do studies at the school, and I think they used it. That was a while ago. Anyway, the pill is super low dose. A regular street hit would be like a month’s worth of prescription.”
“So you can legally get meth? That’s messed up.”
“Not really. It’s way harder to get the legal stuff than the street stuff.”
Jack paused. “One last question, anyone at the college I should talk to who could have given it to the victim?”
Mike shook his head and held his hand up. “Almost anyone. I haven’t heard about anyone stepping up after Carl and me. There’s still too much attention for one guy to set up shop, but you can still get it. You just have to ask.”
“Did you know a Lennie Jacobsen?”
“A Lennie?”
“Lennie J? He may have been a runner.”
Mike shook his head and looked down at his feet. “Meth attracts people like flies to garbage, hangers-on and wannabes.” He stared down at the floor and swallowed. “For a while I felt like a rock star with all my groupies. But they were just kids. Who knows what I turned them into? I burned myself on the outside, but they burned on the inside. I didn’t even know most of their names.” He looked up at Jack and his chin trembled.
Jack tried, but he couldn’t hold his gaze. He stood up to leave. “Thank you for your time.”
“Oh, okay.” Mike looked disappointed.
“If you hear anything, please give me a call.”
“Sure. If I can help at all, you can just stop by. I can’t go anywhere, and I don’t get many visitors.” He lifted up his pant leg, and Jack saw the ankle monitor.
“Thanks for your time.”
“Anytime.” Mike followed him to the door and stood in the open doorway waving with his prosthesis as Jack drove away.
Jack looked up at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
That could have been me.
He whispered to his dead friend, “Thanks buddy.”
Jack came home late afternoon, and Replacement almost bowled him over when he walked in the door. “Where have you been? What happened?”
“Give me a second, kid.” He walked past her into the apartment.
“Does your phone work? Can’t you hear it ring? I’ve been trying to get you all day,” she whined and followed right behind him.
He pulled it out. It was off. He shrugged a sorry, and she glared.
“You didn’t check your phone?” Her hands flew wide. “I was worried. I wanted to know—”
“Shut up.”
She slammed both hands into his shoulders, though he could tell that she held back. “You shut up. I’ve been waiting.”
“Okay. Get me a drink while I get ready for work and I’ll tell you.”
“I’m not your wife. Get your own—”
“You’re nagging at me like a wife so get . . . fine.” Jack paused and closed his eyes for a second. “I went out to the center this morning. I got the full tour from this pretty boy, Brendan Phillips. I didn’t get any major bad vibes off him though. I didn’t get much of anything, but I’m going back for another look in a couple days.” Jack left off about looking up Dr. Franklin.
“Can I go with you?”
“Last time didn’t go too well. Remember Missy?”
“Funny you brought her up.” Replacement walked over to the computer.
“Funny how?”
“Well, remember how you thought she was lying about Michelle?” She looked back at him. “I thought if we pushed a little more—”
“Pushed? I didn’t say push. I said back off.”
“It’s not a big deal. I just sent an email . . .”
Jack marched over to his computer. Replacement backed away. She opened her mouth but closed it when he shot her a look.
“Login.” He pointed at the laptop.
“Me?”
“You sent it?”
“Well, it kind of came from . . . you.” Her eyes grew large.
“You sent it from MY account?”
“I thought it would look more intimidating if it came from you.”
“I don’t want to be intimidating.” He logged into his computer and email and switched to his sent folder.
“DEAR MS. LORTON. PLEASE BE OFFICIALLY NOTIFIED THAT WE ARE CONTINUING TO LOOK INTO THE MURDER OF MICHELLE CAMPBELL. IT IS OUR HOPE THAT YOU WILL CONTACT ME REGARDING ALL INFORMATION THAT YOU HAVE CONCERNING THIS CASE. SINCERELY, OFFICER JACK STRATTON.”
“Did you lose your mind? Do you know what she’s going to do? You even included my cell phone.”
“She didn’t go to the cops before. This might shake her up. She might . . .”
“Yeah, she might go to the police now. But she’ll go about me.” Jack pulled the plug out of the back of the computer. “Stay off it.” He stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Chapter 26 ~
Dirty Dancing
Later that night, Jack was pulling traffic duty on the night shift.
Penance.
He shrugged as he zipped up his jacket and walked over to the work detail. They’d been working on this highway since Jack started on the force, leisurely making their way from exit to exit.
They’ve barely done two exits in the last six months. What a waste.
The smell of hot tar filled the air. There always seemed to be tar ready for pouring, but Jack didn’t think it was worth the stench. The odor clung to everything it touched, and Jack was sure he’d smell it for days.
It was just warm enough for the rain not to freeze into snow. A light mist fell, and the drops glistened under the enormous arc lights. The pavement glittered with the mix of colors reflected off it.
Officer Tom Kempy waved and smiled at him. He was a little older than Jack and always seemed happy. Married with three kids and he loved life.
“Hey Jack.” Tom trotted up to him. “Billy said they’re making good progress and should be done by four.”
Four in the morning. Jack frowned. It’s freezing, and pulling traffic duty on the night detail blows.
“It’ll go by fast.” Tom slapped him on the arm and then started jogging for his car.
“Say hi to Amy and the kids,” Jack called after him.
Tom turned back around. “If you ever want to come over for dinner . . .” Tom’s words started to trail off.
“I’d love to but don’t worry, I won’t bring a date.”
Tom exhaled and smiled. “Okay. Great. Sure. I’ll f
ind out when and let you know.” He waved and ran for his car.
Jack laughed. He’d brought a date to the Christmas party. Gina. He didn’t know it was more of a conservative event for the police and all their families. Tom had been there with his wife, Amy, and all their kids.
The next thing Jack knew, Gina had bribed the DJ into playing some spicy music and then she’d started dancing. She cleared the dance floor as her drunken salsa began looking more and more like a striptease. She started blowing kisses to Jack. When her hand slipped to the shoulder strap of her dress, he rushed in, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her out. He could still remember the look on Amy’s face as he walked by. Gina was vividly describing all the erotic things she wanted to do to him. Jack didn’t know whose face was redder, his or Amy’s, but they were both very embarrassed.
Yeah. Definitely no date.
Five hours later Jack felt like time had stopped. He was standing on the side of a highway, freezing and bored. A car came by every twenty to thirty minutes.
I can’t wait to get home.
Jack watched as stars began to peek out from between the clouds.
Replacement was trying to get her schedule to match his. She’d wake up when he did and try to stay up until he returned, even on days when he was pulling a double. It was driving him crazy, but he had to admit he also liked it. She kept going over and over all the information from the phone. The emails were driving her crazy because they were so dull and there were so many of them. She was still going through them, studying each line, each word, in case there was a little piece of information that could hold some relevance.
He wanted to look up the information on that Lennie kid, but he was stuck outside directing traffic. Maybe he could email Replacement and get her to look it up.
Email.
Jack was still ticked she’d sent the email to Missy.
What the hell was she thinking? That Missy was going to confess to having a hand in Michelle’s death? Most likely, she’ll be going to a lawyer. The lawyer will call Collins. Collins will go mental, and I’m screwed. How screwed? I do have a police delegate. That won’t matter. Collins will give me this job every shift. No training and I’ll have the night shift on traffic detail, or he’ll assign me to paper filing and answering the phone for the rest of my career. Thanks Replacement.
He waved as a car made its way down the lane of cones.
And Replacement. What am I going to do about her? She won’t take the bed, and she can’t sleep on the couch forever. I can’t kick her out. I’ll have to get a two-bedroom place.
Jack started laughing. It wasn’t a little laugh but a big sidesplitting howl.
A couple of guys who were talking to the bobcat operator stopped and looked at him.
He held up his hands in a forget-about-it gesture. He was thinking about Missy Lorton rolling into her kitchen squealing. She must have died when she got Replacement’s email.
Jack had a second to react as he heard the car behind him speeding up. He turned and saw the headlights coming straight at him. The engine revved as the driver jammed down the gas pedal. Everything slowed as his adrenaline kicked in.
He tried to jump.
Too late. Pain. Protect your head.
The bumper had slammed into his thigh, and he was crashing into the windshield now. His back exploded, a million fires burning. Glass sliced into his shoulder.
Still spinning.
For a second, he was looking at the stars. They were beautiful. They sparkled. He continued spinning around, and he could see the arc lights reflecting in the water on the road. The lights twinkled and danced. His feet were going over his head. He could hear swearing from the guys at the bobcat.
Not back into the road.
He realized he’d be landing back on the highway. Jack thought about a guy that was hit by a car and then run over three more times. He was clear of the car, but he was still spinning.
Hold your head.
His left arm cradled his head, but his right just flopped, useless. He saw the car that hit him swerve back onto the road and keep going. He landed feet first on the pavement, then on his back, and then on his head. His left hand cushioned some of the impact, but everything flashed for a second and his eyes flew wide open. Pain. Pain everywhere. He burned like a match held upside down.
Roll. He commanded himself, but his body wouldn’t respond.
Jack’s eyes fluttered, and he tried to focus on the men running toward him. He could see them, but his ears didn’t seem to be working. Everything was dimming. Then it went black.
Chapter 27 ~
Iron Man
The first sound Jack heard as he came around was a slow, steady beep. It matched the thudding of the pulse that was echoing in his head.
Hospital. Not dead just yet, Jack.
Jack tried to open his eyes, but only one worked, and it wasn’t working too well. He tried blinking, but everything was fuzzy. He let his head roll to the side. He could smell the odors of the hospital, and his stomach churned. He tried not to breathe through his nose but then he noticed the faint scent of flowers. Through the haze, he could see splotches of colors next to his bed.
Flowers? Maybe I’m dead. Body check.
Jack started with his legs. He flexed his left leg, but he couldn’t move the right.
Immobile? Knee down. Hips? Check. Back? Pain but dull. Ribs? Lot of pain on the right side. Left arm and hand? Okay. Right? No.
He held up his right arm in front of the eye that was sort of working.
Splint.
“Jack?” A blurry shape called to him from past the flowers. “Jack.” The shape lunged forward and came almost nose to nose with him.
“Replacement?” Jack’s mouth was so dry that it sounded more like placemat but the form smiled.
“DOCTOR,” she shouted, but kept her eyes on Jack. She screamed right in his face, causing him physical pain, and his eye fluttered.
“Sorry.” She reached her hand out to touch his head but hesitated, leaving her hand hovering. “Doctor.” He was grateful she turned her head before she yelled this time, but his ears still rang. She turned back to him, and he could see the concern on her face.
“You okay, kid?” Jack shut his eye.
“Me?” Replacement drew back, frowning. “I’m fine. I have been so worried about you. Don’t worry though. You’re going to be fine. You’re good . . . Doctor . . .”
Darkness returned.
The next time Jack woke, he tried to open his eyes, but the left eyelid was like a broken garage door that went up a bit and stopped. He picked up his right hand, forgetting he had a splint, and because of its added weight, his hand crashed into his good eye.
“Damn,” Jack swore at his own stupidity and jerked partially upright, coming to a sudden stop as new pain flooded his already battered body.
“Jack.” Replacement was suddenly at his side, and she placed her hands behind his back to help him. The pain was intense, and the last thing he wanted to do now was to sit up.
“Stop, stop! You’re killing me,” Jack protested.
Replacement pulled her hands away as if she’d grabbed a hot stove, and Jack thumped back onto the bed with a loud groan.
“Sorry.” Her face was once again inches from him, and she stared into his eyes.
She started to inhale in preparation of roaring for the doctor, but Jack interrupted. “No, I’m fine. Give me a minute.” The little shake of his head hurt.
“Are you sure?” She leaned even closer as she searched his face.
He kissed her. It was a kiss like a little kid gives by puckering their lips way out. That was all he did but she was so close it landed right on her lips. She stood upright, and her eyes grew larger.
Jack giggled. The pain medicine he was on was making him a little loopy.
“Jack?” She leaned closer, but he closed his eyes again and laughed.
“Miss me?” His speech was slurred. He opened his eyes, and the room spun.
Jack nodded. “I got hit by a green Toyota Corolla.”
“What’s my name?”
Jack laughed. I’m screwed. I forgot again. He laughed some more.
Her face grew concerned. “Jack, what’s my name?”
He swallowed. “Replacement.”
“What’s my real name?” she pressed.
“I think I hit my head . . .”
Her frown morphed into hurt. “You can remember it was a green Toyota Corolla that hit you but you can’t—”
“Alice.” Jack felt like he hit the game winning shot at the buzzer. He giggled.
Replacement hugged him so tightly that she choked off his groans of pain. All he could do was grimace as he waited for her to relax her grip.
“Everyone was so worried.” She stood up and wiped away tears.
Jack struggled not to groan. He was flat on his back, but now he wanted to try to sit up again. “Does this bed do that sit up thing without you having to lift me?”
Replacement grabbed the remote, and the bed began to raise him to a sitting position. He looked around the room. The first things he noticed were all the flower arrangements.
“How long have I been out?” The words were tough to say. His mouth felt dry and slimy at the same time.
Replacement held up a cup with a straw, and he took a small sip of water. It felt good against the back of his parched mouth. “You were out for a while. The doctors were worried about your head. Then they came back to say it looked okay.”
“I’ve been out . . .” He tried to sit up more but realized that was a lousy idea as the room spun even more. “Traffic. It was a green . . .”
“They found the car. It had been stolen.” Replacement was stroking his arm. “We can talk about that later.”
“Nothing off the car? Prints?” Jack closed one eye, and it helped bring her into focus.
“Nothing. Sheriff Collins came by. He said they had nothing on it yet.” Replacement shrugged. Jack noticed how tired she looked. “Cindy came by too. She said they wiped it clean.”
Girl Jacked Page 18
