JACK KNIFED (15 page)

She cried.

Jack let her.

He stood there for a long time before he walked forward.

“You told me a lot about my father.” Kristine stopped crying at his words. “I feel like he and I are a lot alike.” She nodded. “Now you have to do me a favor.” She looked at him, puzzled. “Close your eyes.”

Jack grabbed her by her arms and pulled her tightly against him. She exhaled but kept her eyes closed. He lowered his face until he could feel her breath on his mouth. “Don’t think, okay? Thank you for telling me about him. When I spoke to my grandmother, she told me about the breakup. She also told me what Steven said to her.” Jack held onto her as he felt a tremble race through her. “Open your eyes.”

Kristine opened her eyes and gasped. Tears once again formed, but Jack held her by her arms and pulled her tighter. He stared into her eyes.

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

Her lip trembled. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“All’s forgiven,” he whispered and smiled. “Close your eyes.”

As she did, she let her arms slip around his waist and hold him. Jack cradled her and watched the pattern of the clouds sweep across the floor. He comforted her until he felt her start to straighten. He kissed her forehead.  “Take your time.” Then he quietly slipped away.

At the top of the stairs, he looked back. Kristine leaned against the iron railing, looking out at the forest, but he could see the slightest hint of a smile.

CHAT

Jack walked back in the room and Replacement didn’t even look up.

“You’re back already?” she asked.

Already? I’ve been upstairs for two hours.

“You find anything out on Terry Watkins?” he asked.

“Super scumbag. He left guidance counseling after five years. Went into real estate. He’s been sued four or five times. Married. No kids, which is a great thing because he’s on a whole bunch of dating sites. So is his wife, so she doesn’t look like a prize either.”

“You seriously got all that this morning?”

Jack walked around to look at the monitor. Her fingers were a blur as she continued to type.

“I have a ton and would have even more if it wasn’t for this prehistoric paperweight.” She thrust both hands at the PC and made a face.

“Where does he live?”

“Smithfield. It’s—”

“Two towns over.” Kristine smiled as she walked into the room.

Jack nodded his head slightly and searched her eyes. She mouthed, “Thank you,” and leaned against the desk.

“So Miss Super-Computer-Genius, any luck?” Kristine asked.

The computer beeped, and a window popped up.

HELLO appeared on the screen.

“Oh, snap.” Replacement groaned.

“What?” Jack leaned forward.

“He’s online.”

“Who?”

“Terry Watkins.” Replacement tilted her head.

“Why? Is he typing to you?” Jack’s voice was clipped.

“He sent me a chat. I didn’t think he’d respond so soon.” She shrugged and sheepishly grinned.

“Respond? Did you contact him?” Jack grabbed the back of the chair.

“We need to ask him questions, right?” Replacement’s head wobbled back and forth.

“Why don’t you ever ask me first?” Jack smacked his own thigh.

“You weren’t here.” Replacement’s hands went out.

“Jack, it’s okay.” Kristine walked over to the other side of Replacement.

“Okay? The last time she sent someone an email, I got hit by a car.”

Kristine let out a little laugh before she realized that he wasn’t kidding.

“Well, we did want to contact him.” Kristine pointed at the screen, and her mouth flopped open. “Why is my picture in the chat window?” Her voice went up.

“I had to make a profile.” Replacement shrugged.

HELLO? PATTY? popped up in the window.

“What do I say to him?” Replacement looked to Jack.

“Patty? Did you say you’re Patty Cole?” Jack’s hand cut the air and shook as he pointed at the monitor.

“Who else was I going to say I am?” She scrunched up her face.

“You used my picture and pretended to be Patty?” Kristine tapped the monitor.

“Type HELLO,” Jack instructed.

“I needed a picture of a woman that age.” Replacement typed HI.

“You could have asked—”

“Kristine, it’s okay.” Jack smirked, and Kristine glared.

IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME. HOW YOU BEEN?

“Can I say wonderful?” Replacement asked.

“No. She’s in an institution.” Jack held up a hand. “Why would you say wonderful?”

“He doesn’t know that,” Replacement snapped.

“Type okay. Keep him guessing. Guys like mystery.” Kristine leaned forward.

OKAY.

“No, we don’t.” Jack shook his head.

YOU LOOK GREAT. I’M HEADING TO WORK. R U IN THE AREA?

“What do I say?” Replacement’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Say yes.” Kristine pointed.

“Say no.” Jack leaned in. “If you say yes, he may—”

Replacement typed YES.

Jack’s hands shot up. “What the hell? I said type NO.”

“It was two votes to one.” Replacement smiled.

“This isn’t a democracy.” Jack ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s my computer, so it’s a matriarchy.” Kristine grinned.

GREAT. I’LL CHAT WITH YOU TONIGHT.

The computer beeped, and the window flashed.

“He’s gone.”

“Why did you do that?” Jack thrust both hands in the air.

Replacement shrugged. “Obviously, I’m trying to help. We want to talk to him, right?”

“Do you know how much planning goes into something like that? We should have gone over what to say, when, how…”

“Sorry.” Replacement pushed back her chair.

“Well, now we’ve found him.” Kristine patted Replacement’s back. “Should I leave the computer on?”

Replacement frowned. “I hope the thing lasts the day and doesn’t melt through the floor.”

“Thanks.” Kristine rolled her eyes.

“We’ll be back later. Can you let me know if he reaches out?” Jack pulled out his keys.

Kristine nodded and they headed out the door.

Patty’s Special Day

It was almost eleven when the Impala stopped in front of the rundown ranch house. At one time, the house must have been brown, but the peeling paint hung like scabs all over it. Of the four windows in the front, one still had shutters.

Jack parked along the street instead of in the driveway filled with four cars, none of which appeared to have moved in years.

“Are you okay with this?” Replacement cast a worried look Jack’s way.

“I’m fine. You’ve heard what people have said about him. I don’t have high expectations,” Jack said.

“You shouldn’t.”

“What’re you not telling me?” Jack asked.

If she’s holding back, this can’t be good.

“I just…when I went looking for Patricia, I started with the systems I have easy access to. Like youth services.” She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “There was a report filed with the state when Patricia was thirteen. I don’t think anything came of it, but it was…sexual abuse. Her mother reported it. She said it was Patricia’s father.”

Jack’s eyes traveled around in front of him, searching for something to hit or smash. He ground his teeth together as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Why did nothing come from it?”

“The mother never followed it up. She died. There was an investigation, but Patty was eventually returned to her father.”

Jack shoved the door open and Replacement hurried out. There was no discernible path to the front door, so Jack marched across the yard. The door was in the same shape as the house: peeling paint fell in strips, and only three of the four little panes had glass. One had just a piece of cardboard stuck in it. Jack rapped on the door, and paint chips fluttered to his feet. Instinctively, his arm reached out and he moved Replacement slightly behind him.

No one answered.

More knocking. More paint. The door opened a crack.

“What?”

A tall, old man glared and blinked through the partially open door. Thick gray hair sat atop a heavily wrinkled face. He shielded his yellow eyes with his hand and stared out suspiciously.

“Mr. Cole? I have a few—”

Jack caught the slamming door and held it in place.

“You’re a cop. Get lost,” he snarled. His lips drew back to reveal browned teeth.

“I’m not here officially. I just—” Jack fumed. His grandfather was just the kind of man he expected to find here. “Ten minutes of questions.” He pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. “You get another fifty when we’re done.”

The old man licked his lips as if he were looking at a steak. He grabbed the bill; the door shut, a chain rattled, and then the door opened wide.

Mr. Cole was Jack’s height. He was slightly stooped over, but his old clothes hung around him like a scarecrow. As the musty smell seeped across the threshold, Replacement coughed and made a face. The old man leered at her and grinned.

“Why hello, sweetie.”

“You don’t talk to her.”

“You think you can talk to me like that, you—”

“Part of the payment,” Jack growled and walked forward, backing the old man up.

The man turned and shuffled into what once was a living room. It was sunny outside, but even though the light was on, it was still dark in the room. Old, thick curtains hung across the windows. There was a small TV in the corner with a worn chair in front of it. A couch with a pile of clothes and assorted trash was against the far wall. The old man shoved the pile over, creating possibly one seat as he headed for the chair.

“What the hell do you want?” he grumbled as he sat down.

Jack kept his eyes on the man’s hands.

“I’m here to ask some questions about Patricia.”

“Patricia?”

Jack seethed. He could see it in his face.

No recognition.

“Patty?” The old man now almost spat out the word. “That bitch took off years ago. Haven’t seen her. Don’t care.”

Replacement started to step forward, but Jack grabbed her arm.

“She’s a feisty one.” The lecherous grin appeared again. “Is Patty dead? Did she leave me something?” He started to sit up.

“Sit your ass down and look at me.”

The old man’s face contorted in anger. His mouth opened and closed as Jack took two steps forward.

“Did Patty ever talk about a Steven?”

“A Steven? How the hell am I supposed to know that? What do kids have girlfriends for? To gossip. Why would she tell me crap?”

“She ever bring anyone…” Jack looked around the decrepit house with disgust, “here?”

“She wasn’t allowed to have anyone over. Ever. It would just cause problems.”

Jack took another step forward.

“So you never knew any of her friends? You don’t know anything about her?” Jack’s words crackled as they snapped forcefully out of his mouth.

“Spoiled little witch like her mother. Her mother’s dead. Patty ran off.”

“Gee. Wonder why?” Replacement’s arms went up and out in mock amazement.

“Shut your hole, you—”

Jack lunged forward and grabbed the arms of the chair. His face was inches away from the man who now leaned back, terrified.

“Do you know anything, old man?”

“No. No.” He shook his head.

“You don’t get the other fifty,” Jack spat.

Jack shoved the chair and started to walk out.

“Wait. I got some of her stuff. It’s in her bedroom. Down the hall. You can take a look for fifty.”

Jack peered down the dark hallway. A worn brown carpet ran straight back to a door. Two other doors were halfway down.

“On the left,” Mr. Cole called out.

“Stay there,” Jack growled and took Replacement by the hand.

“Stay near me.”

“Are you kidding? I want to climb on your back.”

Jack stood to the side of the door and pushed it open. The hinges groaned in protest. A small bed frame with no mattress sat against the far wall. Old plywood leaned against another corner, and trash littered the floor. Two sawhorses and old paint cans were stacked against the closest wall. It was still obvious it had once been a girl’s bedroom. Posters of musicians and actors Jack didn’t know still clung to the walls.

Jack moved to the bureau with Replacement following close behind. Faded stickers covered the front, but it was filled with old tools. Every drawer was empty of anything that would help them.

The closet was another story. The door had been removed and was leaning at an angle against the back of the closet. Jack picked it up and set it next to the plywood stack. Two cardboard boxes lay inside. They weren’t sealed, but their covers were folded to keep them closed. Jack opened the first, and he could see stuffed animals. The second one had schoolbooks at the top. Quickly, he closed the boxes back up.

“This one is lightest.” He handed it to Replacement. “Head straight for the car.”

“We can’t just take it.”

“Yes, I can.”

Jack grabbed the other box and headed out of the room. He set it down when he got to the living room.

“Don’t bring that shi—” The old man stood in the middle of the room.

“Shut up.”

Jack held the door open, and Replacement walked past him with her box.

“You can’t steal—”

Jack shut the door behind her.

Darkness and silence descended on the little room. The old man took a step backward. Slowly, Jack’s head rose up, and the old man gasped.

“Fine. Just take it. Take it.” His trembling hand pointed at the box.

Jack walked forward. “Do you know what you did to her? People said she was a good kid. You started it. What you did to her—”

“That’s a lie.” The old man stood up and stuck a bony hand out toward Jack.

“You’re the one who’s lying.” Jack continued forward.

“So?” The old man sat down.

Jack stopped.

“So what if I did?” He spat. “The statute of limitations is long gone. No one believed it then, either. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m as good as dead. I got liver cancer. Doctors tell me I got a month or two. They want me in hospice. Think I’m scared of going to jail?”

Jack leaned down.

“You’re not going to jail, old man, and I’m not going to kill you…today. I’m going to come back, though. I’m going to come back on Patricia’s special day. Do you remember what day that is? Do you remember how she loved that day every year? I’ll come back on Patricia’s special day. When I do, I’m going to take a piece of you for her.”

Jack threw the other fifty on the floor. When he stood up and turned around, Replacement stood in the doorway. He grabbed the other box and walked out.

“Jack?” Replacement hurried to keep up with him.

He tried to breathe deeply and get the stench out of his mouth and nose.

“What?” He popped the trunk and tossed the boxes in.

“What you just did. Back there?”

Jack ripped open the door and slid behind the wheel. After she got in, they flew down the road.

“What did I do? Do you really think I’m going to come back and cut off a piece of him?”

“The way you just looked at him? Yes. That’s a definite possibility.”

“I won’t. But he doesn’t know that.”

“He could call the cops.”

“I am a cop.” Jack flashed a big smile that wasn’t returned. “Besides, he won’t. He’s a scumbag. Scumbags don’t call the cops when they get threatened. It will take awhile to take hold anyway.”

“What will?”

“What I said. Did you see the way he smiled when he thought his own daughter was dead but may have left him some money? I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to remember her.” Jack kept pushing the gas pedal down. “He didn’t even remember her name right away. He didn’t know anything about her. He won’t remember her special day. But he thinks that’s when I’m coming back. He’ll lie awake at night, trying to remember. He’ll go over every conversation that he ever had with Patty. I hope it drives him crazy, trying to figure out when it is. I hope it causes him to remember her. I hope it causes him lots of pain.”