JACK KNIFED

by Christopher Greyson

  Dennis shook his head. “When did you get that haircut? You look just like your old man.” He looked away and wiped his eyes. “Come on, kid. I gotta get back and answer the million and one phone calls that article is sure to produce.”

  Jack looked over at him and stopped, startled. Dennis had a bunch of Christmas roses in his hand. They marched back up the trail in silence. Dennis walked over to Steven’s marker and laid the flowers in front of it. He stood back as he looked at Jack.

  Shame burned Jack down to his core. His eyes welled with tears and he shook, not out of mourning but from anger at his own thoughtlessness. His throat tightened as he walked forward and squatted down. He placed five of the flowers on top of the monument and kept one.

  As he stood, Dennis punched him lightly in the arm.

  “We’ll get him, Jack.”

  Jack looked down at the granite.

  “Yeah. We will.”

  He turned and walked for the car.

  Big-Boy Badge

  As Jack drove away from the pond, all he wanted to do was keep driving. He’d love to be able to take his police cruiser out, just open her up, and let her run. As he leaned back in the seat, he felt the slight tremble begin in his left leg.

  No.

  He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and frantically rolled down his window. The crank handle seemed to be moving in slow motion. With each turn, the window only dropped an inch, but Jack needed it open now. He needed to feel the wind.

  Please, not now.

  He pressed his face against the cold glass with desperation, as if the car were filling with water. The knob snapped off in his hand as he frantically pushed down. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

  Jack!

  His foot was jammed down on the gas. The Impala was blindly flying down the road, and he was just a passenger in a pilotless ship. Jack knew his eyes were closed, but he didn’t know whether his body was refusing to obey him, or whether his mind refused to give the command to stop.

  He screamed and slammed his foot down on the brake. Everything not fastened down in the Impala flew forward. He could hear things flying off the dashboard. He felt his body jerk into the seat belt, and his head jammed against his chest, but his eyes remained closed. He sat there, panting against the steering wheel. The force of the deceleration had pushed him against it, but his body was still rigid. Suddenly, he relaxed and slumped over it, his hands now on the dash. His foot slipped off the brake, and the pedal came back up with a faint thump.

  Jack opened his eyes.

  The Impala was slowly rolling back into his lane, and the road was empty. Jack sat back up and steered the car, so it was mostly on the side of the road. His hand continued to shake as he shut the engine off.

  You stupid idiot.

  He pulled the rearview mirror over so he could glare at himself. He expected his own eyes to be filled with condemnation, hate even. As he stared at his reflection, he didn’t see disgust at this weakness; instead, he saw concern.

  I’m going to get someone else killed. What’s wrong with me? I’m fine when someone shoots at me…I’m not afraid while I chase a guy with a gun, but afterward I freak out? When it’s over, and I’m safe, I turn into a pansy?

  Jack looked up at the ceiling.

  It’s just stress…I can deal with it.

  He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face.

  Please, God… Please, God help me deal with it.

  Replacement was waiting in the inn’s parking lot when he pulled up. She rushed to the car and hopped in. Jack killed the engine.

  “This is a big problem.” She swallowed and opened the newspaper. “That old creep told everything.”

  “Did he mention Terry?”

  “No. But he said there was a new lead, and he’d reveal it next week.”

  “That’s just wrong. I screwed up—”

  “You didn’t.” Replacement hit his arm. “I said it. I talked about your mother.”

  “You tried to stop me from putting the guy through a wall. I’m the one who talked about Terry, and I’m the one who talked to a reporter in the first place. It’s on me.”

  “Where were you this morning? You got your hair cut.”

  “It’s a long story. I wanted to go out to the pond and stopped by Mrs. Ritter’s first. She cut my hair.”

  “She did?”

  Jack nodded. “Then I went for a run.”

  “You look like you went for a roll. You’re all muddy.”

  “Actually, I think the paper might have helped in a way, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Someone took a shot at me out at the pond.”

  “They tried to punch you?” She laughed. “What a dope. Did—you don’t mean shot-shot?”

  Jack smiled. Replacement grabbed him by the jacket and frantically checked him over. “Are you okay? Did you get hit? Where—”

  “I’m fine.” Jack held her hands. “Rifle. It missed. I chased—”

  “You what?” she yelled right in his face.

  “Don’t do that.” His mouth ticked into a brief smile, but he was serious.

  “Hold up. You chased a guy who had a gun?”

  “I have a gun, too.”

  “You risked your life.”

  “That’s my job. Want to see my big-boy badge?”

  “Shut up, Jack. You could…” She folded her arms across her chest. “Did you see the car?”

  “No. It was long gone. But we got someone’s attention.”

  “Someone with a gun. That’s not good.”

  Now it was Jack’s turn to lean forward. “We’re going after a killer, kid. This isn’t a game. You have to be—”

  In the next few seconds, three things happened so quickly they were almost simultaneous. Someone tapped on the driver window, Replacement screamed, and Jack drew his gun.

  A man in his late forties stood frozen outside the driver’s window. Jack kept his gun trained on the man and opened his door.

  “Who are you?” Jack growled.

  “Please put the gun down,” the man said in little puffs of clipped speech.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m an attorney. I work for Terry Martin. I’m delivering a cease and desist informing you…please put the gun down.”

  Jack holstered the gun and grabbed the letter.

  “Calm down. What’s in—?”

  “Calm down? You drew a gun on me,” the attorney squeaked.

  “You approached me in a threatening way and reached for something in your pocket. Shut up.”

  “Unofficially, my client also wanted to state again that he had absolutely nothing to do with your father’s death. Nothing.” The man walked backward toward a silver car. “Officially, if one mention of your slanderous accusation of my client’s good name ends up in the paper—”

  “It won’t.”

  “If it does, he’ll sue, and he’ll press assault charges. Good day.”

  Replacement stuck her head out the window. “Tell your client if he wants to keep his good name to stop banging his secretary!”

  Jack got back into the Impala. “Great. Just great.”

  “It will get better.” Replacement smiled.

  “Let’s go and get something to eat,” Jack mumbled.

  “See?” She grinned. “It just got better.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and turned around to back out. On the backseat, he saw the Christmas rose he’d picked at the pond. He threw the car in park, leaned way over the seat, and grabbed it.

  “Hey.” He held out the flower.

  Replacement’s green eyes grew even bigger. “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

  “At the pond. I was jogging around, and there was a little group of them at the base of a tree. Chief Dennis said they’re called Christmas roses. I saw it and thought about how your dad…” Jack’s shoulders popped up, and he looked at Replacement.

  She grabbed him and kissed his cheek.

  “They’re my favor
ite. Thank you.” Replacement sat back and looked straight out the window with the flower held carefully in her lap. “Please drive,” she whispered without moving her head.

  Jack smiled and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Pink Panties

  Jack drove to Bartlet’s Family Restaurant. He wasn’t even hungry; he just wanted to get somewhere and figure out his next step. Replacement was carefully carrying her flower as they walked toward the entrance. The sound of squealing tires caused them to spin around. A pickup truck swung into the parking lot, and the driver laid on the horn.

  “It keeps getting better.” Jack nodded toward the restaurant. “Go inside, kid.”

  “Yeah, right.” Replacement didn’t budge.

  Terry Bradford jumped out of the truck but held up his hands as he approached. His face was still black and blue from the fight with Jack.

  “Snap. You beat the snot out of him. He looks like a raccoon,” Replacement whispered.

  “What do you want from me?” Terry whined. “I didn’t press charges for you kicking the crap out of me. I even said I’m sorry.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Jack motioned for him to put his hands down.

  “You can’t say anything about me in the paper. If you do, I’m screwed. I had nothing to do with Steven. I promise. I didn’t know him. I’m sorry I said that stuff about your mother too, but I didn’t know you were her kid.”

  “I’m not going to say anything about you in the paper.”

  “Will that guy? The reporter? He came by my house. He was asking me a bunch of questions. If he puts my name in there…I’ll lose my job.”

  “I’ll talk to him, okay? You won’t be in the paper. I’ll explain.”

  “Please?” Terry’s arms fell to his side and he kicked the ground. “I’m finally getting on my feet. I didn’t do anything, you know?”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll go talk to him. I promise.”

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot.” His head bobbled back and forth as he retreated to his truck.

  Jack hurried up the stairs. “This is so screwed up. Three days ago I’m knocking his teeth in, and now I gotta go defend him?”

  “How do you know he didn’t do it?”

  Jack turned around and pointed to Terry as he waited to pull out.

  “Look at him.” Jack waved, and Terry waved back. “Do you think he’s evil or smart enough to kill my father and act like that?”

  Replacement scrunched up her nose. “No.”

  “Add that to the fact that I saw the guy’s eyes when I asked him if he did it, and I say he didn’t do it.”

  “When you asked him?” Replacement stopped. “Do you mean when you were punching him in the face?”

  “You’d be surprised, but people tend to tell you the truth then.”

  “I’m sure he’d have told you he wore pink panties at that point, but I don’t know if it was true.”

  “He was telling the truth.” Jack held the door open. “Purple.”

  “What?” She stopped, puzzled.

  “That’s the color panties he said he wore.” Jack winked.

  “Shut up.”

  They got the same booth near the waterfall. Jack took out his notepad and pen.

  “Okay. First, we go to Terry Martinez’s house.”

  “Why?”

  “To give him a heads-up. Jeff asked specifically about him. If he already saw Bradford, he’ll go there.”

  “Can I help you?” A perky waitress bounded over to the table.

  Jack held his hand out to Replacement.

  Replacement’s fingers drummed across the menu before she spoke. “I’ll have the lumberjack special and an orange juice and an iced tea.” The waitress looked surprised as she scribbled her notes. “And an extra side of bacon.”

  “I’ll just have eggs and toast.” Jack smiled.

  “Can I have a plastic cup of water, too?” Replacement added.

  “Sure. It’ll just be a second.” She hurried away.

  Jack flipped a sugar packet around on the table and frowned. The window Replacement was looking out slowly began to fog up.

  “The waterfall is so beautiful.” She wiped the fog away with her sleeve. “Do you want to go out there?”

  “I’m good, kid.” Jack ran his hands through his hair and silence descended on the table.

  “After we eat, are we going to Jeff’s?” Replacement tossed a sugar packet his way.

  “I have to try to talk him out of next week’s story.”

  “He’s old, you know.”

  Jack shrugged. “So?”

  “So, you can’t go and…”

  “And what?”

  “Smack him around?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “I’m not going to.” Jack lowered his voice and glowered.

  Replacement made a face. “You’ve said that a few times, and Terry Bradford’s face looks like you beat it with an ugly stick.”

  “I’ll just talk to Franklin.”

  “Is the story that big a deal?” Replacement slurped her iced tea. “It’s a small-town paper.”

  “Let me explain something to you.” Jack put his hands down on the table. “They got this newfangled thing called the Internet. Heard of it?”

  “Funny. But someone besides little old ladies in a small town have to look at something for it to go viral.”

  The waitress brought their order over, and Replacement carefully placed her flower in the plastic cup filled with water.

  “Oh, a Christmas rose,” the waitress gushed.

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Replacement placed it in the middle of the table.

  “Did your husband get it for you?”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m not her husband.”

  “Yes you are.” The girl nodded her head. “I read it in the paper. I’m so sorry about your father.”

  Jack glared at Replacement and she shrugged sheepishly.

  “Thank you.”

  The waitress leaned in and whispered, “I hope you catch the bastard.” Then she smiled and walked away.

  “See?” His hands went wide.

  Replacement rolled her eyes before she closed them and folded her hands.

  “Dear God, please help Jack calm down. Let him know that You’re in control and not him. Thanks. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  Replacement took a huge swig of orange juice.

  “I’m not flipping out. I’m being realistic.”

  “You worry too much. It’s not good. A bunch of old people and one girl in an old people restaurant don’t mean it’s going viral.”

  “It doesn’t have to go viral. Collins told me to lie low. I’ll be pulling night traffic duty for the next ten years. ”

  “Jack, do you really care about what Collins will do?”

  Jack shook his head. “No. But I guarantee that—” Jack’s phone barked in his pocket.

  Replacement frowned. Jack smirked.

  “No way.” She shook her head.

  “It is.”

  “Isn’t.”

  The phone barked again.

  “Bet. You do the shopping for a month?” Jack smiled.

  “I do all the shopping now, smarty. Deal.”

  “No. I forgot. Laundry?”

  “Me, too, already. Deal.”

  “No. How about—”

  The phone barked again.

  “Clean the kitchen? Me. Bathroom? Me. Deal. Deal.” Replacement laughed.

  “Okay, loser has to watch TV…with Mrs. Stevens.”

  “I already do that, too. Deal.”

  “Fine. We bet for bragging rights.”

  “No. Driving rights,” Replacement countered.

  “Fine. A month?”

  “Deal.”

  The buzzer went off, indicating he had a voicemail.

  Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table. Both of them leaned forward and looked down at the phone. Jack pressed the voicemail button and hit speaker.


  The computerized voice read off the date, time, and the click of the voicemail starting to record. Jack and Replacement listened closer, and they could make out some background noise but no one speaking. Quickly he raised the volume, but the caller was still not talking.

  Suddenly, Sheriff Collins’s voice bellowed, “Stratton, call me now.”

  Click.

  Jack smiled. Replacement flopped back in her seat.

  “I shouldn’t be happy. I’m so screwed.”

  They both laughed.

  Sort Of Pregnant

  The Impala stopped in Terry Martinez’s driveway. They could see the teacher in the backyard, struggling as he tried to drag a large tree branch. He waved as they approached.

  “Why, hello.” He pushed up his glasses and then wiped his hands on his pants.

  “Good morning.” Jack shook his hand. “I want to apologize. You might get a visit—”

  “From Jeff Franklin?” Terry asked.

  Jack and Replacement nodded.

  “He was already here. Persistent guy. I, of course, told him I had nothing to do with it. He asked lots of questions about the both of you.”

  Jack grabbed the large tree branch Terry had been tugging on and started to drag it to the pile in the middle of the yard.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Kiss off. In a polite way, of course.” Terry smiled. “I told him the truth, which is boring and doesn’t sell newspapers. I told him I didn’t know anything. I don’t think he believed me.”

  “We’re going there next.”

  “We’ll explain it to him,” Replacement added.

  Terry got next to Jack, and the two of them finished tossing the heavy branch onto the pile.

  “Do you believe me? That I didn’t have anything to do with it?”

  Jack nodded.

  “You do?” Replacement made a face.

  “Chief Dennis Senior checked your alibi. It’s in the report.” Jack shrugged. “And you seem…I think you seem like a good guy.”

  Terry smiled and shook his hand.

  “Do you want to come in for a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I have to get over to Jeff’s and try to stop this next article.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  Terry walked them back to the car. “If you can sometime, stop over. I’d like to talk to you about Steven. He was a good friend.”