JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER

by Christopher Greyson

  “Who?”

  “Just a friend. I’m going to give him a hand.” He kept his head lowered. “He needs some help with a job.”

  Replacement smiled, but Jack thought it looked forced. “I got another website design job. That’ll help with some money.”

  “We’re good, kid. I have some cash coming in, okay?”

  Replacement nodded and went over to the cabinet. “Let me pour you a coffee at least.”

  “Thanks. Are you gonna call Daniel?”

  “Yeah. I tried once already,” she said.

  Replacement handed him a new coffee cup. Jack held it up and peered at the opening at the base.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked.

  “It’s to keep your coffee warm. It has a built-in USB charger. You can charge it in your Charger.” She giggled. “I sat through a new web provider presentation and got it free.”

  “You’re such a geek.” Jack almost dropped the coffee cup when she hit him in the arm. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Be safe. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  *********

  Titus Bail Bonds was sandwiched between a rundown nail salon and an old pizza parlor in a small strip mall in the middle of a dangerous neighborhood in downtown Fairfield. A bell chimed over the door as Jack walked into the office. Even though it just opened, two people sat in the small waiting area. One was a young pregnant woman who watched Jack with red-rimmed eyes. The other was an older man who appeared ready to explode. Jack immediately processed the possibilities. Father bailing out a kid, and it’s not the first time. From how mad he is, it’s probably the last time he’ll do it, though. Young girl is helping a man she hopes will be there when the baby is born.

  The young woman gazed at the floor. Jack sighed as he approached the counter.

  “You’re looking fina’ than a piece a china, Jackie.” Shawna’s rich voice filled the room. Shawna, a short, heavyset black woman a year or two older than Jack, hurried over and pressed the buzzer to let him into the back office. Before he got through the door, she scampered over on her five-inch heels and gave him a huge hug. She wore a wig that was more orange than red and her matching dress strained at the seams, about to burst open. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re back in town.”

  She kept a hand on his back but he felt it quickly sliding down.

  “Good morning to you too.” Jack stopped her hand from traveling any lower.

  Shawna wiggled her eyebrows. “Can’t blame a gal for trying.” She grinned. Jack had known her all of his life and ever since they were kids, she’d flirted with him.

  “Is Titus in?”

  “Oh, don’t think I’m just gonna let you run off. You need to see me first.” She hurried over to the desk and picked up two manila folders. “I got all your paperwork here. Remember to keep the bailpiece and the bond with you. They’re both certified.”

  She flipped open the first folder. Inside was a mug shot of a man around two years older than Jack. He was close to five foot ten but one look at his pudgy face and Jack relaxed a bit.

  “Is one of his eyebrows gone?” Jack looked closer at the picture.

  Shawna laughed. “Yeah. Stupid dumbass burned it off. That’s why he got arrested. It was an insurance scam gone bad.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “Him.” Shawna laughed again. “Not only does he try to torch a Lexus, but the idiot hooked a trailer to it and said all that stuff got burned up too.”

  Jack shook his head. “How much is he worth?”

  “You have to talk to Titus about the money.” Her lips pressed together in a tight line. “So that’s Lawrence Green. His momma put up the bond and she’s hell-bent ticked off. She calls about five times a day.”

  “Where does she live?” Jack pulled out his notebook.

  “Put that away.” Shawna clucked as she took another sheet from the folder. “I watch out for my boys.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she held up the page. “I wrote it all down.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “Why thank you; yes I am.” Shawna patted her fake orange curls. “I don’t know if I’d start there if I were you, but you got your methods and they seem to be working. You just started and you’re ahead of everyone this month.”

  Top bounty hunter. Jack suppressed a grin. Something inside him liked that title.

  “Next up,” Shawna grabbed the other folder, “Eddie Porter.”

  Jack looked at the smug-looking guy with a neck tattoo. His slicked-back black hair was greasy and he had small eyes.

  “He goes by Little-E but everyone calls him Grease-E.” Shawna laughed at her own joke. “He’s five foot four but he’s known to carry a knife. He was arrested twice for assault.”

  “What’s he up for now?”

  “Bad checks. Lots of bad checks.”

  “Who posted his bail?” Jack peered at the list of priors, amazed he even got bail.

  “Him. No one else was going to stick their neck out for that weasel.”

  “Why did Titus?” Jack asked.

  Shawna shook her head and pressed her lips together. “Uh-uh. Never say anything about your boss. You have to ask Titus.”

  Jack gave her a wink and picked up the folders. “I will. Is he in?”

  “He’s with Bobbie G. They should be out soon.”

  “Does Bobbie work here?” Jack asked.

  “Bobbie does bail enforcement too.”

  Jack had known Bobbie since they were kids. They liked each other, but they were never close.

  That was because of Chandler.

  Bobbie and Chandler never got along. Why that was, Jack never figured out. They were alike in so many ways. They grew up in the same neighborhood. They went to the same schools. Same church. Same sports teams. They were both huge black men, but Chandler was an inch taller and twenty pounds lighter. They could’ve been brothers, but put them together and you felt the uneasiness grow. No one understood it. Not Aunt Haddie or her best friend—Bobbie’s mother.

  “He’s bounty hunting?”

  “Yeah but don’t you worry. Business is good. Titus uses three, sometimes four. There’s plenty of work to go around.” She angled her head to the waiting room and Jack noticed that two other people had come in.

  The door to Titus’s office opened and Bobbie Gibson walked out while Shawna zipped in. Bobbie was six four and over three hundred pounds. He rolled up the sleeves on his army green T-shirt twice to show off his massive biceps. He stopped short when he saw Jack. He looked Jack up and down, broke into a broad grin, and nodded.

  That was another thing they never did. They didn’t shake hands. No knuckle bumps either. They just nodded. It seemed to sum up their whole relationship. Still, he would have Bobbie’s back—and had on a few occasions.

  “Good to see you, Bobbie.”

  “Welcome back, Jack. How you been?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  Bobbie inhaled and seemed to get even taller. “Really? I read about you in the funny papers except it ain’t so funny. How’s your side?”

  “Better every day.”

  Titus’s office door opened and Shawna leaned out. “Jack? Titus can see you now.”

  “Good seeing you, Bobbie.” Jack turned to go.

  “Hey, Jack. I’ve been meaning to call you.” Bobbie handed Jack his card. “Let me know if you want to go for a game of eight ball at Hannigan’s sometime.”

  Jack looked back at Bobbie’s face. It had been years since he had seen him. There was something different about his face now. Jack saw the hard edge to his eyes was gone. “Sure.” Jack held up the card. “I’ll give you a call.”

  “Anytime. I usually swing in on the way home. They still got great wings.”

  Jack nodded and then walked into Titus’s office. Shawna stepped aside and Jack passed her.

  Titus J. Martin was seated behind an immense oak desk. Titus was in his mid-forties with a medium build. Dressed in a pressed white shirt, steel-gra
y tie, matching pants and black leather shoes, he looked as if he’d be more comfortable in a corner office on Wall Street than here. His fingers flew over the keyboard before he triumphantly reached over and clicked the mouse.

  “I just had to finish an email.” He stood up and thrust out a hand.

  Jack shook it and sat down. “Thanks for the call, Titus.”

  “Don’t thank me, Jack. I need these two back, and I need them back soon. You’re fast. Real fast. But if you don’t get them soon, I’ll bring in Bobbie G.”

  “What’s the rush?” Jack set the folders down on the desk.

  “Larry Green. He ran after his mother put up a lot of cash and her house. I never thought he’d do that to her.”

  “How fast are we talking?” Jack tilted his head.

  “End of the week, but the faster, the better. His mother keeps calling me. I’ll consider it a favor.”

  “I’ll get it done,” Jack said. “Do you have any idea where he’d be?”

  “None. He’s got a girl and a kid, but they all live at his mother’s. He’s not going to do any serious time, but his mother’s the one who’s going to lose out.”

  “I’ll start with her then.”

  “The other guy’s Eddie. Watch out for him. He’s a three-strike loser, and he likes to carry a knife.”

  “I got it. You got any angle on where he hangs?”

  “Eddie likes the ladies, but the ladies don’t like Eddie. Eddie pays for his company.”

  “L Street?”

  Everyone in Fairfield knew L Street. Located in the worst section of town, it was the last of the Alphabet streets. In the middle, two strip clubs faced each other but the whole stretch was known for prostitution.

  Titus nodded. “You look good. How are things looking from your side?”

  Jack tapped the armrest. “Fine. Long hours, rough neighbors but you pay well.”

  Titus flashed a grin. “The pay is good because you’re fast. It’s a ratio. But you’re good?”

  “Yeah. I like catching bad guys.”

  Titus chuckled. “Don’t try to go too fast and watch out for Grease-E. Be careful, Jack.”

  “End of the week? I better get started.” Jack stood up, shook Titus’s outstretched hand again, and then walked out the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I’m Going to Bring an Army

  Jack parked on the street in front of a pale-green duplex. The well cared for house had a homey feel to it. Several cars filled the driveway. As he walked up the concrete walkway, a young woman in her early twenties opened the door and came out carrying four balloons and a banner.

  “Hello.” She grinned broadly.

  Jack smiled back. Her modest pullover summer dress complemented her dark-brown skin and medium-length curly hair. Because of her tall, lithe build, almost anything she wore would showcase her figure.

  “Hi. I’m looking for Mrs. Green.”

  “Which one?” she asked over her shoulder as she taped the balloons to the side of the house.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “She’s my aunt. My mom’s Mrs. Green also, and there’s another Mrs. Green inside, too.” She held up a banner that read BABY GIRL. “Do you mind?” She angled her head to the corner of the banner. Jack grabbed the top corner, and she handed him a piece of tape. She reached up and smiled. “I appreciate your help.”

  From inside the house, someone called out, “Mia, is that your uncle?” A very short, hefty woman in her mid-fifties opened the door. She looked frazzled. When her eyes met Jack’s, she gave a little hop and she frowned even more.

  “Aunt Beth, this is…” Mia turned, pointed at Jack, and chuckled. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t even ask your name.”

  “I’m Jack Stratton. I’m looking for Lawrence.”

  Something fell to the floor inside, and both women’s eyes blazed at the mention of Lawrence.

  “Are you a friend of that no-good buffoon?” Elizabeth wiggled her finger under Jack’s nose as she stomped forward. “You better not be here to say he didn’t do it. I don’t care if he did or not; he’s got to go to court and stop calling anyone who’ll listen and telling them that he didn’t do it.”

  Jack took three steps back as four women, who looked almost identical to Elizabeth, poured out of the house and down the steps. He immediately classified them by the color of their dresses: yellow, orange, blue, and pink. As the rainbow of stout women surrounded him, they all talked at once. “Do you know where he is?” “You tell him that his momma’s so upset.” “Where is he?” “That no-good—”

  This isn’t good. Jack held up his hands. “Titus sent me.”

  They stopped talking, but they continued to glare.

  Elizabeth asked, “Well, did Titus find him yet?” Her words were so crisp they snapped.

  “No, but—”

  All of them shouted questions and objections. Their hands shot out in all directions, while they berated him for not finding Lawrence.

  “Wait a second.” Orange stepped forward, reached up, and grabbed Jack’s chin. She twisted his face back and forth as she examined him. “You’re one of Aunt Haddie’s foster babies.”

  “He is,” Pink proclaimed.

  “I remember when you were little.” Blue smiled so big and warm that Jack grinned.

  “That’s Chandler’s friend,” Yellow called out from the back of the group.

  At the mention of Chandler’s name, they all went quiet.

  “How’s Haddie?” Elizabeth stepped forward. “I meant to get over there. I stopped by a month ago.”

  Now I gotta find this guy. “She’s doing okay. Titus said I needed to find Lawrence quickly.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes welled up and Mia stepped forward to put her arm around her shoulders. The whole rainbow protectively moved closer like a group of chicks.

  “You do.” Mia’s eyes rounded in concern as they locked with Jack’s. “If not, my aunt’s out all that money, and I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

  The women all started to talk again. Jack ran one hand through his hair as he held up the other one. Everyone offered suggestions of where they thought Lawrence would be hiding—people, places, and even street names were tossed out.

  Crowd control, Jack. Jack dropped his voice and raised the volume. “Elizabeth.” The group stopped talking, and Jack let the pause hang in the air for a second before he continued. “I need just Elizabeth to answer this next question.” He spoke low and with authority; all of the women turned silent. “If Lawrence got into a fight with his girlfriend, where would he go?”

  She pointed to the woman in orange. “He’d go to Ricky’s.”

  Orange tossed her hands up. “I told you I already grilled Ricky. Lawrence isn’t there. Ricky hasn’t seen him.”

  “Ma’am.” Jack leaned in and his eyes connected with hers. “What did you ask him? Exactly.”

  She put her hand on her chest. “I came right out and asked, ‘Is Lawrence over at your place?’ and he looked me right in the eye. He didn’t even blink and he said, ‘No, Momma. I haven’t even heard from him.’”

  She’s telling the truth and her kid’s lying. Elizabeth said that Lawrence has been calling everyone who’ll listen, but he doesn’t call his best friend? He’s at Ricky’s.

  “Do you have an address for Ricky?”

  “I just told—” she began, but Mia cut her off.

  “He lives at 754 Bellington. Him, my brother, and two cousins rent my Uncle Bryan’s house.”

  “Do any of them have any priors?”

  “None of them have any nothing.” Yellow stamped her foot.

  “They stay there and play video games all day.” Pink held out her hands, clicked her fingers, and wiggled her thumbs.

  “He’s probably there with Farrell and Isaac,” Mia said.

  “But Ricky doesn’t know where Lawrence is.” Orange continued to protest her son’s innocence. “You need to look over at the Parker House.”

  “The Parker House?”
Elizabeth scoffed and spun around. “Why’d he be at that hotel? He can’t afford a night, let alone stay there.”

  “He worked there,” Ricky’s mother snapped.

  “When he was sixteen and they fired his sorry butt,” Pink pointed out.

  The group dissolved into griping and finger-pointing, so Jack backed up.

  I got what I needed anyway. “Thank you for your time.” He waved.

  Only Mia waved back. Everyone else was so busy trying to make their point that they didn’t even turn around as Jack headed back to his car.

  ********

  Jack pulled up in front of a small light-blue ranch house with three cars in the driveway. The grass was long; a stack of unpainted shutters sat on top of sawhorses. He grabbed the white envelope Shawna had given him, took out the certified letters, and put them in his front pocket.

  I need an angle. Jack flipped open one of the manila folders. He folded Lawrence’s spec sheet and put it in the envelope. Jack got out of the car and cracked his neck.

  Lawrence is facing all nonviolent charges and has no other arrests. This should be a cakewalk, but I don’t know what’s behind that door or how things could change. Jack shifted his bulletproof vest, looked down at his chest and clenched his teeth. No badge.

  Jack never looked down on anyone’s job and now wasn’t any different. It didn’t matter whether you were a security guard or a cop to him—you still took a chance—but now he didn’t have a badge on his chest. Every time he looked down and didn’t see it, it reminded him he wasn’t a cop anymore.

  Three cars. Odds are five or six guys.

  As Jack walked up the brick walkway, he looked at the weeds that popped up among the rusting paint cans and wondered how long ago the painting job had been abandoned. Muffled music blared from inside the house. The volume was so loud the windows shook.

  Jack mentally scanned his checklist as he approached the door: vest, gun, boot gun, Taser, mace, cuffs, and ties.

  He kept to the edge of the two cement steps and stopped on the left side of the door. Through the partially open blind, he saw three men standing around a couch and two guys sitting, holding controllers. He examined the faces of everyone in the room—Lawrence wasn’t among them. The guy closest to the door kept tipping his head back and shouting something to an open doorway.