JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER

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JACK AND THE GIANT KILLER Page 19

by Christopher Greyson


  Jack exhaled. He never saw his Impala after the accident, and the car in the garage made him want to take it for a ride.

  Replacement reached out and squeezed his hand. “Sorry about your car.”

  Jack rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I love the one you got me. The Charger’s my car now.”

  She grinned as they walked up the two small cement steps that led to a flimsy screen door. Inside the house, a television blared away.

  Jack rang the doorbell and waited. After a minute, he rang the doorbell again and pounded on the door. He had a good beat going before he heard the TV switch off. The door opened partway and an elderly man peered out.

  “Chester Pratt? Jack Stratton and Alice Campbell. We’re here about your call to the tip line.”

  Chester’s face broke into a broad wrinkled grin. “Jack?” He asked so loudly that Jack leaned away slightly. “You say your name’s Jack?”

  Jack nodded, and they followed the man into the small living room that must have once been a porch. “Yes, sir.” Jack almost yelled, but Chester still angled his ear toward him. “You reported seeing something on Westbrook?”

  “Why don’t you sit on the couch, and I’ll sit over here.” Chester steadied himself. He walked by holding onto the different furniture pieces as he passed.

  Jack looked into the living room at a small table set with three cups and three sodas. They sat down on an old couch while Chester sat in a worn recliner.

  “You were out on Westbrook the other night?” Jack asked again.

  Chester’s eyes darted to the floor and then back to Jack. “You two want a soda? That’s real soda.” Chester smiled as he pointed at the can with a gnarled finger. “Not that diet crap.”

  Jack poured Replacement a drink. “Thank you.”

  “Candy?” Chester grinned as he pushed a bowl of old-fashioned mints Replacement’s way.

  Jack looked at his reflection in the powered-down TV. He sat there staring at it for a moment, and he pictured Chester Pratt sitting there doing the same thing: sitting on a couch, all alone, and staring at himself.

  “Are you making any progress looking for the Giant Killer?” Chester tried to pour himself a cup of soda as his hand shook.

  “Well, that’s why I’m here, sir. I hoped you could help.” Jack stared down at the bubbles in his drink.

  Replacement smiled and held out her hand. Chester gave her the can, and she poured a drink for him.

  There was an inch of dust on that Impala. It hasn’t been driven in five years, let alone two days ago in that downpour.

  “I can help.” Chester sat up straighter, but his knee nervously bounced.

  “The tip line operator made a mistake when they took down your message, sir.” Jack’s lips pressed together.

  Chester swallowed. “They did?”

  Jack nodded. “They thought you said you were driving on Westbrook, but I saw your car in the garage. That’s a 1976 Impala, right?”

  “You know your cars,” Chester said.

  “I had a ’78. I was admiring yours, but I noticed it hasn’t been out in the rain recently. So I think the operator didn’t get your message correct. You weren’t driving out on Westbrook the other night, right, Chester?”

  Chester’s smile faded. He nodded. “They must have got my message wrong.” His shoulders slumped.

  After a moment of awkward silence, Replacement asked, “Have you been following the case on the news?”

  Chester nodded again and looked at the blank TV.

  Jack pulled out his notepad. “Well, can you tell me what you think, sir?”

  “What?” Chester angled his ear toward Jack.

  “You’ve been following the case, tell me what you think. Anything about it at all. We could use your opinion.” Jack gave Replacement a quick wink.

  Chester’s smile returned. “Well, I think it’s a serial killer.” Jack wrote that down. “You’re writing that down?” Chester asked, surprised.

  Jack nodded.

  Chester leaned forward and started to talk. He covered all the known information about the case, from finding Branson’s body to the report of Davis being stabbed. He talked about losing power during the storm and waking up and seeing the news reports. Jack took notes, sipped his soda, and listened.

  After half an hour, Jack popped another candy in his mouth and stood up. “Thank you very much for all your help, sir.”

  “You’re more than welcome, Jack. Thank you both for coming. I sure hope you catch the guy. That Greg Freeman sure seemed like a nice kid.”

  Jack stopped. “Did you know him?”

  “What?” Chester angled his ear toward Jack.

  “Did you know Greg Freeman?” Jack practically shouted.

  “Know him? No. But he’s on that commercial on channel three all the time.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “Pat’s Towing. It’s the one with the catchy jingle.”

  “I’ll be sure to check it out.” Jack waved.

  As they walked back to the car, Replacement whispered to Jack, “That was nice of you.”

  “What was I going to do? Arrest him for calling in a bogus tip because he was lonely? We did learn something.”

  “What?” Replacement asked.

  “The killer didn’t need to know Greg Freeman or get a tow before. He could have seen him on TV.”

  “That’s true. Still, you’re a good man, Jack Stratton.” Replacement gave him a quick hug before she jumped in the car.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Skunk Stink

  “Why aren’t the animal control offices at the police station?” Replacement asked as they walked up the steps to the two-story brick building.

  “Animal control in Darrington is contracted out. It’s different all over.” Jack held open the door as they walked into the little reception area.

  A young girl stood at a printer behind the counter, occasionally looking at the papers as they slowly appeared. “One second,” she called out as she continued to look down. After a minute, she glanced over sheepishly. “Sorry. It jams so you have to watch it.”

  “I’m just looking for Gary.”

  “He’s around back.” She pointed. “Just go out the front and follow the walkway to the right.”

  Jack nodded and Replacement waved.

  A concrete slab walkway led around the building. As they rounded the corner, a tall fence blocked the view of the back. Jack stopped at the gate and listened—someone sprayed a hose.

  “Why do you do that?” Replacement asked.

  Jack’s eyebrow went up until he realized that he’d instinctively moved the right of the gate.

  “This is what I wanted to tell you at Sandra’s apartment.” Jack grinned. “If you’re really determined to do this, you need to listen to a few things to stay safe.”

  “We’re going to talk to a guy you know.” She shrugged.

  “Okay. But this guy is in animal control. What if behind this fence was a huge rabid dog he just picked up?”

  Replacement rolled her eyes. “They wouldn’t let it just run around back there.”

  “How do you know? The girl at the desk might be wrong. Maybe the way to go was out of the building and take a left, and behind this gate is the vicious weasel area.”

  “There’d be a sign.”

  “There might not be. And if you were going to talk to someone, a knock-and-talk, you don’t know who’s behind the door. So, if the doorknob is on the left and the door opens in, you want to stand to the left side.”

  “Why?”

  “Then whoever is opening the door has to move up so you can see them.”

  “Why do you move to the side?” she asked.

  “People shoot through the door.”

  Replacement’s eyes rounded. “They just shoot?”

  Jack nodded. “I knew a kid in Iraq…” He stopped talking as he saw the concern sweep across her face. “You just need to be careful.”

  “It’s not me I�
�m worried about.” Replacement moved Jack farther over. “You stay safe.”

  “Look, I don’t want to get you paranoid or freaked out worrying about me.” He kissed her head. “Which I find adorable, but you need to be prepared—like a Girl Scout.” Jack swung the gate open.

  A white van sat parked in the back driveway. The rear doors were open and it rocked back and forth while water sprayed out.

  “Hey, Gary,” Jack called.

  A man with his mouth and nose covered in a bandana stuck out his head, covered with curly red hair. He waved, and then hopped out of the van. Dressed in coveralls, he rushed over to the water spigot. With his free hand, he motioned Jack back as he pulled off the bandana and stuck his head under the water.

  Jack and Replacement both stopped as the distinct smell of skunk hit them in the face. Gary shut the water off, and then shook his head like a dog. Replacement laughed and so did Gary.

  “Why hello, Jack,” Gary yelled. His teeth flashed in a broad grin. Jack took a step forward and stuck his hand out, but Gary waved him off again. “Skunk. Bad.”

  “I can tell.” Jack tried not to wrinkle his nose.

  “Let’s move upwind.” Gary walked toward the fence and they followed. “What brings you by?”

  “Have you heard about the murders?”

  Gary’s curls popped up as he nodded. “Jane was pretty freaked. Her brother is like six and a half feet tall or something. I got nothing to worry about.” He was only a little taller than Replacement. “Do you really think it’s a serial killer?”

  “That’s why I’m here. I was hoping you could help.”

  Gary’s smile got even bigger. Because Gary was animal control, a contracted civilian position in Darrington, some of the police treated him as a menial underling. Jack wasn’t one of them.

  “You know you can always ask me a favor, Jack.” Gary straightened up.

  Replacement spoke up. “We were looking through the database on animal deaths to see if we could find a link. I was trying to find a way to see if there’s a connection with large dogs.”

  Gary shook his head. “We don’t record the height, but we have the breed, age, weight, and cause of death.”

  “There were some codes I don’t understand. Do you have a reference chart?” Replacement asked.

  “Well, you’re in luck.” He grinned. “I do. Come on in.”

  They followed Gary inside to a windowless backroom office. The old desk was tidy, but the minute the door closed, both Replacement and Jack started to cough over the skunk smell that clung to his clothes.

  “Sorry.” Gary reopened the door. “Give me five minutes?”

  Both Jack and Replacement quickly nodded, and Gary rushed out of the room.

  Replacement exhaled. “Wow. That poor guy.”

  Jack looked around the room that was little more than a large closet and shook his head. “He’s always the happiest guy. I think I’d go out of my mind working in here.”

  She kissed his cheek.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Because you’d work here if you had to.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I like that in a man.”

  “The whole hunter, gatherer, provider thing, huh?” Jack winked. “You do what you have to do. At least he gets to go outside too.”

  Ten minutes later, Gary hurried back into the room wearing a fresh pair of coveralls, but Jack still had to work on not making a face from the lingering odor.

  “Sorry it took so long,” Gary said.

  “I’m the guy asking a favor, Gary. Don’t apologize. I appreciate it,” Jack said.

  “Do you have a log-in?” Gary asked. When Replacement nodded, he held a hand out for the seat. “Do you want to sit in the pilot chair? You’re probably better at it than I am.”

  Replacement slid into the chair and Gary leaned over her shoulder. Jack felt badly for Replacement as her eyes widened and her mouth clamped closed. It’s true you can’t get rid of skunk stink.

  “Okay. Let’s get started.” Gary looked at the monitor.

  “I can filter the list to dogs and unnatural deaths.”

  “Good thinking.” Gary patted Replacement’s shoulder. “Now, you’re looking for big dogs? Medium-big, or big-big, or what?”

  “Real big. Like the size of a bear.” Jack held his hand up chest high.

  “Really?” Gary stood up straight.

  “No.” Replacement huffed. “She’s real big but not that big. We’re looking for giant breed dogs. Hold on. I’ll export everything to a spreadsheet and then we can check off the big ones?”

  “That’s super smart,” Gary said. “A large dog is fifty to ninety pounds. A giant breed is typically ninety on up.”

  Jack leaned against a filing cabinet while Gary went down the list with Replacement. He’d look at the breed and the age, and they’d check off a column if it was a good match. After half an hour, both Gary and Replacement leaned back at the same time.

  Gary shrugged and pointed at the monitor. “That’s all I have as far as big or giant dogs go.”

  Jack walked around the desk and frowned when he saw the screen. Replacement had highlighted the data according to the dog’s size and the date. Only a few lines were red.

  “We haven’t really had anything criminal as far as large or giant breed dogs. We had a couple cases of reported abuse, but it doesn’t look like anything came of it,” Gary said.

  “When do you notify the police?” Replacement asked.

  “Sometimes it’s obvious there’s a crime, but I’ll also notify them if I’m real suspicious or see any possible abuse. Dog fighting, killing, torture—”

  Replacement held up a hand. “Got it.”

  “You can also talk to a guy at the animal shelter.” Gary grabbed a pen and piece of paper off the desk. “His name’s Ryan Warner.”

  “Thin build, round glasses, and wavy hair?” Jack asked.

  “That’s him.” Gary handed Jack the paper. “Nice guy. Do you know him?”

  “Just met him the other day,” Jack said.

  “Is it okay if I email this spreadsheet to myself?” Replacement asked.

  “Sure.”

  Replacement clicked a couple of buttons and then stood up.

  “Thanks, Gary.” Jack shook his hand before they walked out of the little room. “I’ll look over the reports. Can I call you if I have questions?”

  “Sure thing. I’d be happy to help.” Gary held a different door open than the one they came in. “Cut through the office—it’ll be faster.”

  “Have you had any recent activity that would raise a flag?” Jack asked as they walked past the girl who still stood at the printer.

  Gary shook his head. “It’s sad, but the ones I see are usually abandoned.”

  Jack nodded. “Thanks again.”

  “Are you going to the shelter now?” Gary asked.

  “Yes,” Jack replied.

  “Well, I have a cat I was hoping you’d drop off for me. It would save me a trip.”

  “Sure.” Replacement grinned. “I like cats.”

  Gary hurried to the back and came back with a closed metal box he held out to Replacement. “You can just give this to Ryan.”

  Replacement held the metal box up and inspected the sides. “There are no air holes.”

  Gary nodded. “It’s okay. It’s dead.”

  Jack caught the box before it fell too far. Replacement’s mouth contorted into different positions.

  “I’m sorry.” Gary turned beet-red. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

  “You can’t have them take it over anyway, Gary.” The girl looked up from the printer. “I called the shelter this morning and they’re still down so they’re not taking any drop-offs.”

  “Sorry.” Replacement motioned with her head for Jack to give Gary the box back.

  “That’s all right. Franklin Animal Shelter is our backup. I’ll take it over later. See ya.” Gary waved as Replacement hurried Jack out the door.

  CHAPTE
R THIRTY-TWO

  Under the Bus

  Jack held the door open for Replacement as they walked into the animal shelter. The lobby was empty and a beefy young man waited behind the counter. He had dark-brown hair that needed a wash, a tie-dyed shirt, and a name tag that read Captain Andy with a smiling skull sticker on it.

  “Hi, is Ryan in?” Jack asked.

  “I’ll see.” He turned and yelled into the back. “Ryan? Two people are here to see you.”

  There’s some fine customer service.

  “You picking up or looking to adopt?” he asked.

  “We’re just here to see Ryan,” Jack said.

  “We already have a dog.” Replacement smiled.

  “What about a cat?” Andy dragged the stool forward.

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea with our dog.” Replacement shook her head.

  “You’d be surprised.” Andy leaned against the counter. “Sometimes dogs and cats get along really well. We just got in some kittens. I’ll go grab—”

  Jack put his hand on the counter. “Not today.”

  Andy opened his mouth, but when he looked at Jack’s darkening eyes, he closed it.

  The double doors swung open and Ryan walked out. “Jack. Alice.” He waved and motioned for them to follow him. “Why don’t we talk in my office?”

  They followed Ryan down a small hallway to an office that was larger than Jack expected. The desk faced the door, and a couch was against the far wall.

  “Thanks, Ryan. I had a few questions I wanted to ask you.”

  “Is it about the Giant Killer?” Ryan motioned for them to sit down on the couch, and he pulled his chair over. “That’s what the newspaper is calling him. I watched the mayor’s press conference on the Internet and I saw you.”

  “It may be. Gary Shaw recommended I speak with you,” Jack said.

  “Gary’s a great guy, but I don’t understand. How can I help?”

  “Gary said you have a database we’d like to take a look at. Do you keep a record of all the animals that are brought in?”

  Ryan pointed at the computer. “We do. Right now, Lacie handles that. What information are you looking for? I have most of it in this computer.” Ryan tapped his head and leaned forward.

 

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