She shook her head. “He never said anything about anyone. Never yelled. Nothing.” She sobbed.
“Did he talk about his family?”
“He didn’t have any. His mother and father both died.” She sniffed.
“Can you think of anyone he didn’t get along with?”
She shook her head.
“Did anyone not get along with him?” Replacement asked.
Sandra stared at her for a minute and then her gaze traveled to the door. “Wade.”
“He threatened Daniel at work?” Jack watched her face.
Sandra nodded. “Daniel sent me a letter and Wade read it. He drove over there, and they yelled at each other.”
Jack tilted his head. “They yelled at each other? Did Wade say if Daniel yelled back?”
Her lips contorted and she started to cry. She shook her head. “Wade made it sound like a huge fight but…I don’t think so. I only know what Wade said, but he exaggerates.”
“Lies,” Replacement corrected.
Sandra nodded. “Wade said he went over there and told the whole crew to kiss his ass. I think Wade challenged him to fight. I told Wade before he went over that Daniel wouldn’t fight. Daniel’s never been in a fight.”
Jack nodded. “Can you think of anyone else who may have had a problem with Daniel? Anyone who he’s mentioned?”
She kept shaking her head.
“Was he into anything?” Replacement leaned forward and placed her head on level with Sandra’s. “Did he drink or do drugs?”
“No,” she cried. “Didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. He was just…nice.”
The apartment door swung open and Wade strutted in. “You guys done?”
“What?” Replacement snapped.
Jack stood up and put a restraining hand on her arm. Jack walked forward, and Wade moved over and sat in the recliner. “You spoke with the police?”
“Yeah. A guy named Castillo. He asked me a bunch of stupid questions. I admit I went over there. I needed to put him in his place.”
“Is that the only time you spoke with Daniel?” Jack asked.
“Yeah. He wasn’t stupid enough to come back around.”
“Or maybe he was just respecting her,” Replacement growled as she nodded toward Sandra.
Sandra sobbed.
“Whatever. That’s the only time I ever talked to him. I had nothing to do with it. I’ve been with her all last week anyway,” Wade said.
“Not all the time. What about work?” Jack looked at Sandra, who shook her head.
“He means when I’m not at work,” Sandra explained. “We’re together then.”
“Are you home during the day?” Jack asked Wade.
“Mostly.” Wade scratched his chin. “I’m thinking about going back to school.” He took out a cigarette.
“You just had one,” Sandra said.
“I’m just holding it.” Wade’s face twisted up. He tapped his foot and then stood up. “I didn’t have anything to do with anything. You got any other questions?”
“Sit down,” Jack growled and Wade sat. “One more question. You got a failure-to-appear for your child support case. Why’d Castillo let you walk?”
Wade went pale. “I got that straightened out.”
“Why would you be paying child support?” Sandra sat up and put her feet on the floor. “Why?” She looked from Wade to Jack and then to Replacement.
“Ask him.” Replacement glared at Wade, who stared down at his cigarette pack.
“Thank you for your time.” Jack tipped his head before he moved for the door.
Replacement stopped in the doorway and looked back at Sandra. “You picked the wrong guy for a boyfriend.” She followed Jack down the stairs.
When they reached the car, Jack turned the engine over and shook his head.
“What?” Replacement asked.
“I don’t get how it works.”
“How what works?”
“Life. Here you get a guy like Ray who looks like he loves his kids, but he gets stabbed to death, and Wade’s got three kids, doesn’t support them, and the slimeball doesn’t even let his new girlfriend know they exist.”
Replacement put her feet up. “And Sandra picked him.”
“Life’s not fair.”
“What do you think?” Replacement asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Did Wade have anything to do with Daniel’s murder?”
“Wade didn’t do it.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“He’s got no real motive. I know there’s the girl, but Wade got what he wanted when he went over to confront Daniel. He wanted to make Daniel look bad and make himself look like a tough guy. He did that.”
“I don’t think Daniel looked bad.”
Jack faintly smiled. “Because you’re a smart girl. Fighting doesn’t make you a badass; it just makes you an ass. Wade doesn’t think that way. He thinks he won. So there wasn’t any real motive. Sandra already left Daniel for Wade. Now he gets Daniel to stay away. Why kill him?”
“You saw how she was crying now. Maybe Wade thought she still loved Daniel. I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”
“I don’t think the devil needs an advocate but think about it. How was Sandra before she found out Daniel was dead?”
“She didn’t care. Daniel was missing; he could have been suicidal, but she didn’t bat an eyelash,” Replacement spat.
“Sandra got upset after she learned Daniel’s dead. Before—nothing. She didn’t care. So, that and the fact that Wade’s a total pansy means he didn’t do it.”
“Why do you think he’s a pansy? Besides the obvious,” she added.
“Wade didn’t go to Daniel’s work until after Sandra told him Daniel didn’t fight. That’s one pansy point. He gets another point for getting out of the car and not crossing the street. He only yelled at the guy in a cherry picker. He gets a third point for going outside while we interviewed his crying girlfriend. The game winner was when I snarled a little, and he sat right back down. That guy’s all talk. One hundred percent pansy.”
“I thought so too.”
Replacement pulled out her phone. They rode along in silence while Replacement read a news story. After a few minutes, she made a face.
“What’s the matter?” Jack asked.
“They interviewed the mayor about Daniel’s murder. They asked if she thought Ray Davis’s murder and Daniel’s were related. The mayor called it ‘a craven and despicable act.’” Replacement scrolled down. “She goes on to say, ‘This gentle giant was cut down by a coward and the people in Darrington should be assured everything is being done to bring the murderer to justice.’ A reporter for the Enterprise asked again if the killings of Branson and Davis were connected. She said, ‘At this time we don’t know, but I want to assure the people Darrington is a safe place to live.’”
Jack gripped the steering wheel. Black clouds hurried in from the west, and he smelled the storm coming. “Dumb thing to say.”
“What?” Replacement looked up.
“You should never comment about the killer unless you want to make him react. She called him a coward. If the killings are linked, and someone is out there targeting people, she just made him very angry.”
“She also said it was safe.” Replacement tossed her phone on the seat and rolled her window down. “It wasn’t safe for them,” she muttered, looking up at the darkening sky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Welcome to Darrington
A flash filled Jack’s bedroom a second before a huge crack of thunder shook the windows. He groaned in pain as Lady jumped up on his bed and stepped on him.
“Lady? Off,” he ordered.
The dog whimpered and flopped down next to him. He turned to glare at her, but one look at her trembling face and he knew he couldn’t kick her off the bed now.
“You big baby,” he grumbled as he patted her head.
She tucked her face under his arm. They lay there for several minutes as
he listened to the storm slowly move away. Rain pelted the window, and he saw the flashes of lightning. The thunder started to grow fainter. The bedroom door flew open, and Replacement hurried in.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared too?” Jack sat up.
“You need to see this.” Her face was white, and her voice was strangely even.
Jack glanced at the live newsfeed that played on her phone. The female reporter gripped her umbrella tightly, and the flash of emergency lights cast strange shadows in the rain. He heard the strain in her voice, but he didn’t pay attention to what she said. There was something familiar about the spot where she stood. As she moved to the side, both of Jack’s hands went to the phone. She reported from the town border facing the entrance to Darrington—Westbrook Road. He turned around there hundreds of times on patrol. In a worn-out area, the police cruisers could make a U-turn right after the huge Welcome to Darrington sign.
But now, in the red and blue flashes of light, he saw something hanging in front of the sign. He wanted to yell at the woman to get the hell out of the way, but he knew she was trying to block the sight from the camera on purpose. He caught enough of the silhouette to see it was a body.
He handed Replacement the phone, and she dashed out of the room. His years in the Army taught him to dress fast, and tonight he broke the record. When he entered the living room, Replacement was already at the door.
Jack turned around when he heard Lady’s nails on the wood. She trotted out of the bedroom with her head down and nervously looked around. The faint rumble of thunder in the distance caused her whole body to shake.
“Back in bed.” Jack didn’t even finish the sentence before Lady spun around and dashed to the bedroom.
Replacement ran out first, and they raced to the Charger. Jack settled into the driver seat as comfortably as a fighter pilot—the adrenaline thrill coursed through his veins, but a knot formed in his stomach. He tried to relax as they flew down the deserted streets toward the edge of town.
Replacement kept the speakerphone on so Jack could listen. Between the rain and slick streets, he had to keep both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road ahead. As they barreled through the neighborhood, he noticed the darkened houses.
“Power outage. No one has lights,” Jack pointed out.
Replacement tapped her phone. “They say widespread power outages in Darrington and the surrounding county.”
Jack glanced at the video again. “Are any other cruisers there yet?”
“I still only see the same lights.”
“The place should be swarming.”
Jack turned onto Westbrook and ahead he only saw one cruiser, a news van, and a half-dozen other cars.
“Whose cars are those? Where are the cops?” Replacement asked.
“They’re probably gawkers. What’s he doing? People are walking everywhere.” Jack pulled over to the other side of the street.
He and Replacement jogged across the road toward the patrolman who stood outside the cruiser. The cop animatedly spoke into the radio. A tow truck was parked several car lengths in front of the police car with its hazard lights on.
“Why aren’t additional units here, Officer?” Jack snarled as he walked up.
His transformation back into a police officer was so complete that Replacement pulled up short.
The young officer snapped to attention and stared at Jack.
Jack looked down at his nametag. “Billings, where are the other units? Where’s Undersheriff Morrison?”
At the mention of Morrison’s name, the young cop leaned forward. “We can’t reach him. Dispatch can’t get the ME either. Over half the town doesn’t have power.”
“It’s a code N and Morrison’s covering for Sheriff Collins. I don’t care if you have to have your mother go to his house, get someone over to Morrison’s NOW. You have an unsecure murder scene here.”
Replacement walked to the front of the cruiser. Sirens down the road caused both men to turn and look. A fire truck sped toward them.
Jack turned in frustration toward the officer. “You can get the fire department here and not Morrison? What the hell did you call in?”
“Jack?” Replacement called to him.
The fire truck shut its siren off and pulled in front of the cruiser.
Replacement stood in front of it and waved her hands. “Stop. STOP.”
Jack saw the driver looking to see if he was clear of the cruiser, but he failed to notice Replacement.
“ALICE MOVE!” Jack screamed.
Replacement begrudgingly jumped out of the way and then pounded her legs with her fists. “Damn it,” she yelled as the fire truck stopped and skidded a few feet in the mud on the side of the road.
“What?” Jack asked.
“I saw something.” Replacement thrust her hands out at the mud underneath the truck. “There were tracks. Tire tracks.”
“Damn it.” Jack spun around. “MOVE BACK NOW.” Jack’s voice boomed over the sirens. “This is an active crime scene and I want everyone back. Fire personnel, gather at the back of the truck. Billings,” he called to the patrolman, “start laying a tape. Roadside to at least thirty yards. Everyone else, move back past the news van.”
Jack walked forward with his hands out and everyone backed up except two women who strode forward. One was young and short. The other woman was in her late fifties. Both women looked as if they just exited a board meeting. The younger one held an umbrella over the older woman’s head.
“Mayor Lewis, can we get a statement?” a female reporter asked as she stuck a microphone forward.
The two women didn’t break stride.
“Later.” The mayor’s voice was flat.
The mayor walked straight to Jack. “Officer.” She folded her hands in front of her stomach. “Bring me up to speed.”
“Madam Mayor,” Jack began, “Undersheriff Morrison is in charge and in control of the situation. He’s currently en route.”
“He better get here fast.” The woman’s pale blue eyes looked over Jack’s shoulder.
Jack turned and for the first time saw what he glimpsed on Replacement’s phone. The top of the Welcome to Darrington sign stood ten feet off the ground. The flashing emergency lights reflected grotesquely off the dead eyes of a man who hung there. He was dressed in gray work coveralls with a reflective vest. The rope ran from around his neck, over the top of the sign, and tied around one of the posts.
The tow truck driver.
The man was thin, but very tall. Jack estimated his height at six foot nine.
The mayor turned to her assistant. “It’s another tall man. The press is going to have a field day with this. I have to give them a statement.”
Replacement exhaled. “Don’t tick him off this time.”
Mayor Lewis turned to icily stare at Replacement. “What did you just say?”
“You called him a coward before. You don’t do that to a killer.” Replacement returned the glare. “You ticked him off.”
“Excuse me?” The mayor’s eyes narrowed, but her face paled. “Are you saying I’m somehow responsible?”
Jack stepped forward. “You’re not responsible. Whoever did this is. But you need to be careful about what you say now. Give a neutral, standard response.”
“Mayor Lewis, can we get a statement?” The reporter walked forward and then turned around to face the camera.
The mayor stood up a little straighter and her eyes locked on the camera. After a moment, she leaned toward Jack. “Officer, I need you to tell them something.”
“I’m not—”
“Now.” She smiled, but her eyes blazed.
Jack turned to face the camera and swallowed.
Replacement whispered, “If you don’t say something, I will.”
Jack spoke up. “The mayor’s office is utilizing all available resources and many different agencies to help solve these crimes. Right now, a special task force is being organized, and we’re asking anyone who was driving
on Westbrook tonight to contact the police station. Our prayers go out to the families. There will be an update at nine a.m. from the mayor’s office. Thank you.”
The reporter nodded and the cameraman switched the camera off.
Jack rubbed his eyes and looked across the small group of gawkers still rubbernecking and pointing. “Wait a second.” Jack walked past the reporter and grabbed the cameraman by the elbow. The man was in his forties, and his salt-and-pepper hair poked out of his old worn baseball cap. “What’s your name, sir?” Jack asked.
“Keith.”
“I need you to do something, Keith.” Jack waited until the man’s eyes locked with his. “Keep it low, but I need you to get video of everyone here. People, cars—especially license plates, everything.”
Keith looked back to the reporter, who nodded.
Sirens wailed down the street as two cruisers rushed to the scene. Everyone turned to watch as they pulled over behind the Charger. Jack exhaled when he saw Bob Morrison hurry out.
“Nicely said, Officer…?” The mayor waited for Jack’s response.
“Actually,” he cleared his throat, “I’m a private investigator.”
“We’re with Replacement Investigations. Alice Campbell. Proprietor.” Replacement extended her hand.
The mayor’s hands stayed at her side. “Wait. You’re not with the police?” The mayor looked to her assistant, whose mouth hung open.
“Madam Mayor.” Morrison hurried toward them. “Jack.”
The mayor turned to Morrison; her eyes flashed and her voice was clipped. “Undersheriff Morrison, do you know this man?”
“I do.” Morrison looked at Jack and the corner of his eye twitched.
“Jack Stratton.” Jack extended his hand.
“Stratton?” The mayor frowned. Her assistant whispered something in her ear and she stiffened. “Jack Stratton,” she repeated rather loudly before she turned to glare at Morrison. “You’re responsible.”
“Excuse me, Madam Mayor, but—” Morrison began to say.
“But nothing.” The mayor lowered her voice. Jack was surprised he didn’t see her breath, her words were so cold. “If you’d been here, I wouldn’t have had this man go on TV representing my office.” She turned to Jack. “Your assistance is not necessary.”
JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER Page 16
