JACK KNIFED

by Christopher Greyson

  Kristine laughed. “What do you want me to do, invite him for a cup of tea and poison him?”

  Replacement’s eyebrow went up.

  “Alice.”

  “I’m kidding.” She frowned.

  “Do you know anyone who can talk to him?” Jack continued. “I just don’t want him to say anything about Terry Martinez. He seems like a good guy.”

  Kristine smiled. “I’ll see who I know. At least I’ll be doing something.”

  Jack and Replacement headed for the Impala. The day was gray and overcast; a lighter gray spot revealed where the sun was hidden behind the thick veil of clouds.

  “I won’t kick his ass.” Jack looked down as he walked.

  “Jack.” Replacement ran in front of him and stopped. She stared at his chest before she continued. “Look, I only care about you. I don’t want you to get in trouble, lose your job, and go to prison or something. The guys who you stomped are scumbags. I wanted to punch them, too. I just…I just want to say I don’t think you’re wrong.”

  Jack smirked. “So I can beat this guy up?”

  She pushed him back and then walked for the car.

  “No. I just… It’s hard to explain.”

  Jack laughed. “I think I get it. Thanks, kid.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” Replacement looked puzzled.

  “No.” Jack gave her a look back before he realized he had opened her door for her.

  Her eyes widened as she also realized what he was doing. Her mouth opened, and then snapped shut and she hopped in.

  Jack hurried back to his side of the car.

  What’s wrong with you?

  The Impala sputtered before it started. Jack turned his head to listen to the engine. After a few seconds, he patted the dashboard and backed out.

  “Why do you do that?” Replacement asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Rub the car.” She made a face.

  “I didn’t rub the car.” He scowled back.

  “You did. I just saw you.”

  “I patted it.”

  “It wasn’t a pat. It was a rub.”

  “I’m not, like, caressing the car.”

  “Looked like it to me.”

  “Guys do that. She’s my baby and she sounded off. I got worried.”

  Replacement’s head wobbled back and forth, and she stuck out her tongue.

  “I’m jealous of—”

  Jack looked over, but she kept her head to the window. He drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel.

  Now or never. Don’t be a pansy.

  “Hey, kid? Before you came to Aunt Haddie’s, where were you?”

  She kept her head turned away and didn’t answer him. Jack turned onto the main road and slowed for traffic.

  “A foster place. I don’t talk about it.” She spoke into the window.

  “Even with me? You know my past.” Jack hit the steering wheel. “Sorry. That sounded jerky. I meant I thought we could talk…I mean…like I felt comfortable telling you, so…but you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

  Smooth. Idiot.

  “I went from heaven to hell.” Replacement scratched her hand, and Jack noticed the faint scars.

  Nervous habit. She’s done it to the point of scarring, though.

  “My dad was…awesome. My whole family. When they died, they placed me in a shelter thing, and people were really nice. I was nine. But then they placed me in a foster home. It was…I didn’t think…”

  A horn blared, and Jack slammed on the brakes. They stopped inches from another car. They stopped so fast the Impala stalled. Jack held up his hand and Replacement looked around, wide-eyed.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Jack muttered as he started the car back up.

  Replacement stared ahead at the car before them and trembled.

  Her family died in a car accident. Way to go, Jack. Batting a thousand today.

  He undid his seat belt so he could put his arm on her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. You okay?”

  She nodded, and the car behind them laid on the horn.

  Jack put the car in drive and then slowly moved again. He kept both hands on the wheel but kept looking over at her.

  “Stop it.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m okay. I just got a little freaked.”

  Jack exhaled, but he still turned slowly onto the road to the library.

  “That his house?”

  Henry Cooper’s house didn’t fit Jack’s expectations at all. It was a very nice, but small, ranch with a manicured lawn. White paint, red door, and a brick pathway that led to a driveway with a newer model red truck parked in it.

  Jack pulled in next to the truck and shut off the engine. As he opened the door, he could hear the sound of a small chainsaw out back. He nodded his head, and Replacement walked with him around the back of the house.

  The backyard was even more carefully groomed than the front. Small apple trees dotted the yard, along with benches and a picnic table. In the far corner, a man was halfway up a ladder, trimming a tree with a chainsaw.

  Jack motioned for Replacement to hold up while he kept walking forward. The guy was dressed in blue jeans, work boots, and a sweatshirt. Even with all the noise of the saw and the glare off his safety glasses, he noticed Jack. As the saw sputtered out, the man jumped down from the ladder and set the tool on the ground.

  Henry’s gray hair was cut short, and his face was deeply lined, but Jack guessed he was in his early fifties.

  “Henry Cooper?” Jack stopped a couple of feet away from the man. “I’m Jack Stratton. Can I have a couple minutes of your time?”

  “You’re a cop?”

  Jack nodded. “I’m not here officially. I—”

  “Then get the hell out until you are.”

  Jack looked at Henry’s stance: right foot back and slightly angled, left leg slightly bent.

  Henry’s dangerous.

  “I just have a—”

  “You have ten seconds to get off my property before I make you leave.”

  Jack searched his face.

  He thinks he can back it up.

  “We just have a couple questions.” Replacement walked forward and gave a little wave. “We wanted to know what happened at the pond.”

  “Screw you,” Henry snarled. “I’ve paid for that. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “No one is—”

  “Five.” Henry started to count. “I saved the kid. I couldn’t get the father. Four. Did you know his boot was stuck in the snowmobile? They don’t write that, do they? Three.”

  “Hold up.” Jack took a step back and moved Replacement behind him. “I’m not here about that. I’m here about the murder at Buckmaster Pond.”

  “Buckmaster?” Henry blinked rapidly and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Steven?”

  “Steven Ritter. I need to know about that.”

  “Why?”

  “Steven Ritter was my father.”

  “Steven didn’t have a kid. He was a kid.” Henry looked down for a second before he sneered. “Did he knock up some chick before he got killed?”

  Jack’s chest tightened. Henry stared at Jack. He looked him up and down, and his eyes widened.

  “Damn. You could be him. You got ten questions.”

  “When did you first go out to the pond?”

  “One. Stupid question. I went to the pond when I got the call.”

  “What time?”

  “That’s two. A girl called the station that night and I went out.”

  “That was one question. Second question. Were you the only cop on that night?”

  “Four. Being a wiseass cost you a question. Yeah. There was only one covering cop on that night, and it was me.”

  “Fine. Five. Where were you when you got the call?”

  “In my car.”

  “Six.” Jack took a step forward. “Where was your car, exact location?”

  “On patrol.”

  “Where?”
<
br />   “Seven. On patrol.” Henry took a step forward.

  “The dispatcher call log placed you at Market Street just before the call. Market Street is two minutes from the pond. Dispatcher wrote that just before the call came in. You took fifteen minutes to get to the pond. Where were you when the call came in?” Jack snarled the question and stepped in.

  Only a foot separated the men now.

  “Ten. In my car.” Henry smiled and reached out for Jack’s shoulder.

  Jack smacked his hand away. Henry lunged forward. He grabbed Jack’s belt with one hand, but Jack twisted and broke the hold. Henry’s fist shot out. Jack leaned and blocked it. Surprised by the speed, the blow just missed his face. Jack’s hand instinctively struck back; this time Henry blocked. Henry’s foot shot out low for Jack’s knee. Jack’s leg was a blur as he lifted it up, but they still clashed shins.

  Damn. This guy is fast.

  Henry kicked for Jack’s groin, but Jack scooped his leg to the side. Jack stepped to the right and grabbed Henry’s arm with both hands. Jack put pressure on Henry’s arm, and Henry doubled over.

  “Calm down,” Jack growled.

  “Screw you.”

  Henry lunged toward Replacement. Replacement gasped and darted left. The move caught Jack off guard, and he tried to pull Henry back toward himself. Henry let Jack yank him close and slammed his elbow in the side of Jack’s face. Jack’s head snapped back, and he landed hard on the ground.

  “Stupid Boy Scout,” Henry spat.

  Jack grabbed a handful of gravel and chucked it into Henry’s face. As Henry’s hands came up, Jack pushed off the ground and planted a solid kick to Henry’s stomach that launched him backward. Henry rolled as he landed and drew up in a crouch. Jack saw the gleam from the jackknife that was now in his hands.

  “Drop it.” Jack moved to the right and forced his eyes down to Henry’s chest.

  Never look at his eyes. See the whole body.

  Jack started to move to the right and, in his peripheral vision, he saw a blur behind Henry.

  Alice, no…

  Jack darted to the right to draw Henry’s attention. As Henry turned, he straightened up and Replacement smashed the shovel into his back. Henry groaned and dropped the knife. Jack sprang forward and threw him sideways to the ground. He picked up the jackknife and glared at the prone man.

  “Are you okay?” Jack glanced at Alice, who stood with her legs apart, the shovel pulled back to strike again.

  “Her? She hit me with a shovel.” Henry groaned as he worked on standing.

  “You pulled a knife.” Jack held it up.

  “You’re in my yard, stupid. I call the cops and you’re done. Get it?” Henry made it to his feet.

  He’s right. Way to go, Jack.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Replacement yelled.

  “What?” Both Henry and Jack looked at her, perplexed.

  She swung the shovel, pointing it at Jack, and he took a step back. “He wants to know who killed his father. You knew Steven. If you didn’t have anything to do with it, you’d help him. If you did have something to do with it, you’d act like you are right now.”

  “You got a point.” Henry tried to straighten up and winced.

  “A point?” Replacement continued. “You came at him with a knife. His father—”

  “Was stabbed.” Henry walked toward the house. Replacement ran in front of him and lowered the shovel.

  “Answer his questions.” The shovel shook in her hands.

  “You got in a cheap shot, kid—don’t push it.” He stopped walking and stared at her. After a few seconds, he rolled his head. “You got fire.” He turned back to Jack. “I was across town with a woman.”

  “Who?” Jack flexed his wrist and tried not to grimace.

  “Screw you. She was married; so was I. I’m not saying who, but I wasn’t at the pond.”

  The two glared at each other until Henry looked away.

  “Look. I respect you going after the bastard who killed your father, but it wasn’t me. I need a drink.” He eyed Jack up and down. “Marine?”

  “Army.”

  Henry smirked. “You fight like a Marine. Come in.” He nodded to the house and started to walk by Replacement. He stopped, looked at her as she held the shovel out level to his chest. “She fights like a samurai.” He winced as he laughed and headed for the back door. Jack looked at Replacement, and she shrugged. He folded the knife up as he followed.

  Dealing with a drunk. A Marine drunk who’s going to go drink. Great.

  Jack walked up the two little steps and across the wooden deck to the open sliding door. Henry stood in an immaculate kitchen and placed three shot glasses on the countertop of a small island in the middle. He grabbed a fifth of whiskey and poured. As they walked across the threshold, Henry slid the drinks across the countertop toward them. Jack picked his glass up, but Replacement made a face.

  “Whiskey in the morning? How can you drink that?”

  Henry smiled. “Try getting hit with a shovel; that helps it go down.” He took his drink in one swallow and then reached for hers. Jack knocked his back, and Replacement frowned.

  He shrugged. “I almost got stabbed.”

  “Have any more, and I will stab you,” Replacement muttered.

  “Damn.” Henry’s hand slammed down on the counter, making them both jump. “That’s what I need.” He held the glass and pointed at Replacement. “A damn stick of dynamite to keep me in check.”

  Replacement smiled but took a step closer to Jack.

  “Why do you think a cop was out at Buckmaster before your old man got killed?”

  Jack set his glass down.

  “A jogger came forward. He said he saw police lights.”

  Leave the neighbor out of it.

  Replacement looked at her feet.

  “We interviewed everyone in town. Twice. This guy sure it was before? How could he be certain?” Henry asked.

  “He saw the lights on his first lap and on the way back, he saw the lights when you and the ambulance showed up.”

  Henry took the other shot of whiskey and pressed his lips together. “Why come forward now?”

  “He had his reasons for lying about where he was.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

  Henry’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Well, I can’t say anything about the guy, but I’d say that’s BS.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, I was across town. I was the only cop on duty. What lights could he have seen—an ice cream truck?”

  “Could it have been another type of lights?” Replacement asked.

  “Smart kid.” Henry raised his glass.

  “No,” Jack said. “Police lights are distinctive. Could someone have taken another cruiser?”

  Henry shook his head and poured another shot. “No. There were only four. I had one. Two were at the station, and one was at the gas station.”

  “Why do you know that?” Replacement’s brows knit together.

  “Ha.” His hand slammed down on the counter again. “She’s a keeper. Pipes right up. The chief made me check. I even had Atlas pull the repair record.”

  “Atlas?” Jack resisted the urge to lean against the counter.

  “Atlas Auto. They fix the cruisers. The cruiser never left.”

  “What about the two at the station?”

  Henry took another shot and made a face as if he had water up his nose. “No. Gracie Hickoring was on dispatch. Dispatch looked right out on the cars. They didn’t go anywhere with Gracie keeping eyes on them. She was diligent.”

  “The paper said Frank Nelson handled most of the investigation—”

  “That’s why you don’t trust those scumbags.” Henry slammed his hand down again. “Nelson couldn’t tie his own shoes. Guy was, like, eighty when I started. Chief ran the investigation.”

  “How do you think he handled it?”

  Henry’s eyes narrowed. Jack’s weight shifted.

  “You can hit me with a
shovel, and I’ll invite you in for a drink. But you talk smack about the chief, and we go at it again.”

  Jack held up his hands. “Just asking. All I have to go on is what Franklin told me.”

  “Franklin? Jeff Franklin, that slimy cockroach? You listen to me. Chief worked that case harder than I’ve ever seen him do anything. He was a good man and loved that boy.” Henry poured two more glasses. “Your dad was a great kid. I don’t think he liked me much. None of the kids really did. I was just out of the Marines and was a little hard on them. Kids need that. Most of the other kids were little sissies, but your dad was a tough kid. A good kid.” He raised his glass and downed another shot.

  “The chief handled most of the investigation? When did he have you look at the cruisers?”

  Henry exhaled and looked at the ceiling. After a minute, he shrugged. “Couple of months? Case had gone cold-cold. Maybe more like a few months. I remember I thought it was weird and…he really grilled me about it. Where I was.” He pointed at Jack. “He believed me. He knew me.”

  “When did he fire you?” Replacement’s mouth snapped shut, but her question was already out.

  “Dennis never would have done it. His tubby little brat canned me when he became chief.” He put his arms down and leaned on the counter. “Porker wouldn’t even let me explain.”

  “You think of anything else I should know? Anything at all not in the report?”

  Henry took a deep breath.

  “The bastard who killed your father stabbed him…a lot. They call it a rage killing. The guy had a lot of hate. Didn’t make sense. Still doesn’t make sense. I bet you can’t find someone who hated that kid even now.”

  Henry pushed the glass of whiskey toward Jack. “One for the road?”

  Replacement pulled open a drawer and then placed a knife on the countertop next to the drink. She looked up and smiled.

  “Ha.” Henry’s hand slammed down on the counter. “You’re my kind of girl.” He stood up and tapped his fingers. “You two got something going?” He smiled at Replacement and brushed his gray hair. “There’s some gray on the chimney, but there’s still fire in the stove,” he roared.

  Replacement slid right next to Jack. “We’re together.” She tried to lean up to kiss his cheek but couldn’t, so she leaned her head against his chest. “A couple. Right, baby?”