Detective Jack Stratton Box Set Page 19
They spent a sweet, lazy afternoon watching movies. That night, Jack stared up at the ceiling—at least he had a different ceiling to stare at now—and waited. Replacement had gone to bed an hour ago.
She must be asleep by now.
He slipped out of bed and winced when he tried to stand, but he definitely felt a little stronger. He shuffled to the door and slowly opened it, fairly confident it wouldn’t squeak after he liberally sprayed the hinges with WD-40 a few weeks ago so he wouldn’t wake Gina up when he came home late.
Replacement lay curled up on the couch under the thick comforter. He was sure she was asleep.
He made it over to the desk, leaned against it, and forced himself to breathe.
Click.
There was a little chirp when he unplugged her laptop. Cradling it like a football, he limped away as quietly as he could. He was almost at the far end of the couch when he heard a soft scraping sound. He turned around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise.
The unplugged laptop cord was slowly sliding across the desk. He watched, helpless, as it slipped off the edge and landed with a crisp thwack.
He held his breath and looked down at Replacement.
She didn’t move.
Jack turned and scurried back to the safety of the bedroom with his prize.
The laptop’s screen flashed to life, and a password prompt appeared.
Jack grinned. You’re not the only one who can look over someone’s shoulder.
He typed “XmasR0$3” and the laptop booted up.
Christmas Rose for her password? I would never have guessed it.
Jack logged in to the police database and opened the file on Lennie Jacobsen. The guy was clean, but there was a mug shot.
Why is there a mug shot, but no arrest records?
He searched further into the file and finally found an arrest record from a few years back, voided. So Lennie had been arrested when he was a teenager, and the juvenile record was sealed.
Juvie records were like vaults. To get it unsealed, he’d have to convince a judge to give him a subpoena.
As in, not gonna happen.
If Lennie was a runner for a dealer up at the university, maybe he was a student.
I have to get back on campus.
For the next couple of days, Replacement made Jack breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She lay next to him as they watched movie after movie. If he tried to talk about the college or Michelle, she cut him off and reminded him that he’d promised to wait and get better. He couldn’t remember having made that promise, but he didn’t say anything.
Every night, Jack sneaked Replacement’s laptop and pored over pictures and files, emails and court cases.
His leg healed slowly. When he woke up, Replacement was there, and she tucked him in every night. She doted on him like a devoted wife, and though he wouldn’t admit it to her or to himself, he liked it. But he was overjoyed when the day finally came for his checkup.
Jack was not as excited about how they were getting to the doctor’s office. Because of his leg, he couldn’t drive. Which left Replacement.
He watched her carefully push the front seat all the way back to accommodate his leg brace. As he settled in, he realized the problem: the front seat in the Impala was one long seat—so, if it was pushed all the way back for him, Replacement had to sit on the very edge in order to reach the steering wheel and pedals.
He laughed. “You look like a little kid.”
She made a face and sat up straighter.
“Okay. Just remember that the gas pedal is—”
The car shot forward like a rocket as she pressed down too hard on the gas. She countered by jamming both feet on the brake, and Jack had to catch himself one-armed on the dashboard to keep from going through the windshield.
“Very sensitive.”
Before he could say anything else, the whole process was repeated, and they headed down the street bucking and pitching.
Between the pain in his leg and the terrified yet determined look on Replacement’s face, he burst out laughing again.
She muttered, “I’m doing my best.”
“You have to go easy,” Jack said.
“I am.”
“Just press a little.”
Both of them were giggling like little kids by the time they reached the clinic.
A nurse took them to a small exam room, took Jack’s blood pressure, and told him to wait on the exam table; the doctor would be there in a few minutes. Yes, Replacement could stay.
Just let this guy give me the green light.
He lay down on the table and closed his eyes, worrying about work, listening to Replacement turn on the faucet and wash her hands and fidget. He was just about to tell her to knock it off when she poked his leg and he jerked open his eyes.
“The doctor can see you now.” She had on rubber gloves and a surgical mask. She crossed her eyes and leaned over him, holding up a tongue depressor. “It’s time for your full body checkup.”
They both burst out laughing and were still laughing when the door opened and the doctor walked in. Jack swallowed, and Replacement spun around, pulled her mask down, and put her hands behind her back. The doctor’s quizzical look turned into a frown.
“I’m Dr. Nieman.” He shook Jack’s hand. “I see you’ve already met my assistant.” He nodded toward Replacement.
Jack exhaled, and Replacement grinned.
The first thing Nieman did was remove Jack’s leg brace, which didn’t feel great. After a few minutes of prodding, and Jack wincing, Nieman leaned back.
“Officer, your leg is healing up quite nicely. If my assistant here keeps up with this quality care, you can head back to work next week.” He winked at Replacement.
Jack and Replacement exchanged a quick smile.
Nieman shook Jack’s hand, and as he turned to walk out of the office, he whispered something in Replacement’s ear. Jack watched as her eyes grew big and her face turned scarlet. She didn’t say a word as Nieman chuckled and left the room.
“What was that all about?”
“Nothing.”
Jack shot her a semi-glare.
“He said I can take the mask and gloves. If we want to play doctor and patient, you’re healthy enough for that now.” Replacement looked down at the floor as her face turned scarlet on its way to plum.
The good news put Jack in a fine mood for Replacement’s driving on the ride home and his ribs were soon aching again from laughing as they lurched down the street like a drunken grasshopper. Jack was amazed she was able to park the car.
At the apartment, after Jack shimmied sideways on his crutches through the door, Replacement dropped the pile of mail on the counter and headed off to take a shower. Jack couldn’t wait to take one, too. He hated the doctor’s office. Germ factory.
He slapped together two rudimentary sandwiches for lunch and hobbled over with his to the computer. Neil Waters had replied to his email: Lennie Jacobsen had been a computer science student, but he’d dropped out in October. Neil had a home address for him in Michigan, which was a nice touch but not very useful at the moment.
Jack looked down at Replacement’s notebook, which she’d made fun of when he first suggested it. He flipped it open. She’d continued to read Michelle’s emails and had been making notes. She’d circled a file name in red and written Password? next to it. Below that, Tried everything!!!, with a frowny face.
Jack logged in to the file storage where Replacement had put the contents of the phone and found the file: XPC 15 Interview — Part 1. He double-clicked it, and a password prompt appeared.
He typed COOKIES and a message appeared: Invalid Password. Type secure password and press enter.
Jack limped into the bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door. He opened it a crack, and Replacement yelped. He jumped back and slammed the door shut.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m in the shower!”
“I have a quick question.”
“You walk in on me all the time.”
“It’s different! I’m a woman!”
Jack laughed and shook his head. “What makes a password secure?”
“Hold on, I can’t hear you!” She shut the water off and, in a few seconds, the door opened a fraction, her body hidden. “What’re you talking about?”
“That file you can’t open. Did you try cookies?” Jack asked.
“A password doesn’t have cookies.” She looked at him as if he was stupid.
“No. For the password. Did you try the word ‘cookies’?”
“No. Why?”
“Michelle always used that for her password.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“When she was little. It was her super-secret word you had to say.” Jack could see Michelle with her hands on her hips and her little chin sticking out, demanding that he say the password before she’d let him go by.
Dripping wet, Replacement yanked opened the door and raced to the computer. She jumped behind the keyboard, gave her bath towel a quick adjustment, and pulled up another program.
“I’ll run it through this.” She pressed a few keys and the screen flashed.
“What is it?” Jack leaned forward, but the screen was changing so fast he couldn’t tell what was going on.
“It’s a password cracker. It takes way too long to crack a password if you have no idea what the base password is—you’d need a supercomputer for that. But if you just forgot your password and have some rough idea of what you used, this program tries the different permutations.”
“You lost me with your geek-speak.”
Flattered, Replacement ignored the taunt. “A secure password uses letters, numbers, capital letters, and symbols. I can put in a base word or words and let the program do all the combinations. There are thousands, and it will try them all.”
“How long does that take?”
“Hard to tell. Might take a couple of days.”
When he groaned, she said, “It beats never.”
Not for the first time, Jack thought he detected a silent duh.
“Okay.” He got up and made for the bathroom. “I guess we have time.” He paused outside the bedroom door. “I’m real impressed. You really are brilliant.”
Replacement jumped up and spun around so fast her towel started to fall. Jack couldn’t help but look. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. Replacement twisted and turned a deep shade of crimson as she tried to wrap herself up.
As Jack quickly tried to turn away, he slipped on some water. His full weight came down on his hurt leg, and if he caught himself it would be with his hurt wrist, so he forced his hand up and landed flat on his stomach and face. The impact knocked the wind right out of him, and he groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his back.
“Oh, no!” Replacement rushed over to him. Her small hands pushed his hair back. “Are you okay?”
He tried to swallow and look just at her eyes, and failed. He could hardly breathe, but he didn’t know whether it was because he’d just taken a header or because her skin was so rosy-pearl and flawless and her emerald eyes invited him to lose himself in them. Or possibly because her mouth was only inches away.
“Jack?” Her hands grabbed the sides of his face; he lay there and inhaled her clean, soapy scent. Then his arms circled around her waist and lower back. They stared at each other. Her eyes widened and then softened as his hand glided up to her shoulder. He leaned closer and placed his cheek next to hers. Her heartbeat galloped next to his own, chest to chest.
After a minute, they relaxed into each other, and Jack pressed his face into her neck. Her breath was hot against his ear. He felt her leg slide up, and he tightened his grip to pull her in even closer. She caressed the side of his cheek, and he trembled.
Don’t.
The word of caution leapt out from somewhere deep within, from some buried, dark spot, and his newfound desire for her vanished like mist at dawn.
“Fine, I’m fine,” he said abruptly. He closed his eyes. “Get dressed.”
Jack waited, but her hands still held his face. He softly shook his head. She slid her hands down his cheeks, and he relaxed a little. Then he felt her hands move underneath his arms.
“Let me help you up.”
Jack kept his eyes closed as she struggled to lift him. With her help, he managed to stand and lean against the door. She pressed against him as she held him upright, her arms encircling his waist.
He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “I’m okay.” His voice sounded odd, and he realized he was holding his breath. He looked down to find Replacement’s eyes waiting to search his. Her mouth was open, and her lips glistened.
Jack could feel the heat radiating off her, and he panicked. “I’m fine.” He guided her away from him and looked away. “Really.”
“Please let me help,” Replacement protested.
“Thank you. I’m okay.” As softly as he could, he slipped away from her hold and retreated into the safety of the bedroom. Just before the door closed behind him, he caught a glimpse of two very confused emerald eyes.
30
CooKI3$
Jack went to bed early, but sleep wouldn’t come. Giving up, he rolled out of bed and hobbled into the living room. Replacement sat at the computer. She didn’t turn around but waved him over.
“This is the file.” Her voice was a low monotone, and for the first time he heard real fear in her voice. A video was playing on the monitor. Her notebook lay open. Password = C00KI3$ was scrawled on a page.
The video showed a man’s face, shot from above. A leather band encircled his forehead, strapping him down against a bed. It was hard to judge his age, but probably in his thirties. His hair was long, greasy, and unkempt. He had sores on his lips and face.
Drug addict, definitely… maybe a bum.
His eyelids were taped open, while his mouth was gagged.
“Is there audio?”
Replacement cringed but turned up the volume. Moans and muffled cries echoed from the speakers through Jack’s small apartment.
Iraq.
Doing a door-to-door, chasing an insurgent, they came into a room with two dead bodies in chairs, their eyelids taped open. The torturers had wanted their victims to see what was being done to them.
Torture? Who tortures a homeless guy? Jack stood upright and forced himself to put weight on his hurt leg. And why did Michelle have this video?
The man made a gurgling noise. From somewhere off screen, they heard another voice, but Jack couldn’t make out any words. The room darkened even more, then they heard computerized clicks, beeps, and a strange humming sound as the man began to struggle against the straps.
There was a loud crunch, and he screamed in agony.
From off camera, someone responded, but they couldn’t make out any words even after Jack turned the volume all the way up.
The man started to thrash again. Though the gag distorted his groans, it was clear he was in terrible pain and trying to say something. Tears poured down his face and sweat matted his hair. He frantically shook his head. A massive sob erupted, which ended in his choking on his own saliva.
“Please.” In spite of the gag, the word was clear.
“I can’t watch this.” Replacement ran to the bedroom.
Jack took the chair, so angry he didn’t feel human. He couldn’t tell what the person off camera was saying, but he heard all too clearly the next sound: laughter. Someone was laughing as the poor man on the table continued to sob.
Then the crunch of another bone being broken.
The man’s muffled voice called out, “Please, God! Please…” Then the video ended.
In the safety of his own bed, Jack did another body check. His whole body hurt, but his head was exploding. He checked the clock. Eleven ten.
Probably too late to call Dad.
A few years back, Ted Stratton had developed a blood clot. The doctor thought a wa
rmer climate would be beneficial to thin his blood, so Jack’s parents moved to Florida. He hadn’t been down to visit in a long while. Always another excuse, but man, he missed them right now.
With a groan, he rolled onto his side and reached for the phone, sitting up as he dialed. When he got his father, he apologized for calling so late, but Ted cheerfully shook off his sleep, reminding his son he should call anytime he needed to, no matter the hour.
Just the sound of his father’s voice made Jack sit up straighter. He didn’t know why. His dad was one of the kindest men he’d ever known. “What’s up, Son?”
“Dad, I need some advice.”
Jack laid out everything, about Replacement, Collins, and Michelle, as his father listened and asked a few questions to clarify a point here or repeat something there. He agreed completely that the Michelle he knew would never do drugs, and urged Jack to be careful.
At what seemed like an ending point, Jack asked, “What do you think?”
“What I think isn’t important. What do you think?”
“I have no real proof… Maybe I didn’t really know her…” Jack almost whispered the last part.
“Now you’re just beating yourself up.”
“I pushed them out of my life. I wasn’t a good friend.”
“Jack, hold up a minute. The truth is, I don’t know everything about your mother.” Ted paused. “I don’t know her favorite movie, or what book she’s reading right now. That means I should ask her; it doesn’t mean I don’t love her. You loved Michelle as a sister. That doesn’t mean you could have prevented what happened. Do you love me?”
“You know I do.” Jack was trying not to cry. He couldn’t remember crying in front of his father. Laura, yes, but never Ted.
“What’s my favorite movie?”
Jack babbled, “Sorry,” then dissolved into tears. After a moment, he wiped his eyes and put his head in his hands. “Dad, what’s wrong with me? I’m turning into a total baby.”
“There I have to strongly disagree. You’ve always kept everything in, Jack, and that’s not good. You have to let it out from time to time. You never let it out when you were a little boy, or after you came back from Iraq, and now… now it’s coming out whether you like it or not. It’s okay.”