Jack Stratton: Jacks Are Wild Part 3

Jack pushed his back to the wall. He hated being locked in anywhere.

It's not claustrophobia. What do they call hate of locked places? I-wanna-get-the-h.e.l.l-outta-here-phobia?

An older nurse, with a tray in her hands, hurried over to the door and frowned. She closed one eye, looked up at the ceiling, and made a face. After a moment, she closed both eyes and tapped her forehead. She rolled her head at Jack. "I'm filling in. Do you work here? I forgot the code."

Jack read her nametag: MARTHA. He looked her up and down with mock suspicion. "And how do I know you're the real Martha, and not someone who has tied the real Martha up in a closet someplace while you're trying to escape?"

Jack's joke was about as successful as a North Korean missile test. The woman's expression went from confusion to amus.e.m.e.nt and then to anger.

"Funny," she snipped through pressed lips.

"It was just a joke. I didn't-"

"Jack?" the first nurse called for him from the doorway.

He gratefully hurried toward her and away from the woman who glowered at him. As he pa.s.sed an orderly, he smiled and pointed back at the door. "She needs out." Jack then leaned closer and whispered loudly, "Make sure it's really Martha," and winked.

As he hurried through the door, his face lit up. Aunt Haddie sat in a big, comfy chair, and when she saw him, her arms reached out. He practically ran to give her frail body a careful hug.

"You can squeeze me tighter than that. I won't break." She rocked him back and forth before she held him at arm's length. Her big brown eyes searched his face.

"How are you, Aunt Haddie?"

"Blessed and happy, now that my babies are here." She reached a hand back and squeezed Replacement's. Jack caught the nurse's puzzled look and smiled. Replacement must have felt she needed to offer an explanation because Aunt Haddie was black and Jack and Replacement were white. "We're foster kids. Aunt Haddie has lots of babies."

She reached out and ran her hand through Jack's hair. "This one carries on my husband's name: Jack Alton Steven Stratton."

Jack kept himself from making a face, but Replacement turned away and coughed. He'd recently taken his father's name, Steven, but had placed it before Alton to prevent his initials from spelling Jack A.S.S.

Replacement is going to be cracking up all the way home.

Aunt Haddie settled back in her chair. "Speaking of babies, when are you two going to get married?"

Jack's mouth fell open and Replacement's face flushed.

"Don't start going all wishy-washy. Two people in love like you two should get married, and I do love weddings." Aunt Haddie turned to the nurse. "I didn't raise them at the same time. Jackie was out of the house when Alice came. She's been head over heels for him since then. She used to keep his picture in her drawer and-"

"Aunt Haddie." Replacement swallowed, her neck lengthened, and she frantically shook her head.

"Oh, don't worry; he knows it." She patted her hand. "And Jackie's been just smitten with her since they got together. He takes such good care of her, but just watch how he looks at her when he thinks no one else is looking." She winked at the nurse. "That's the key. He just melts like b.u.t.ter and goes all soft."

Now it was Jack's turn to wave his hands for her to stop.

"I'm not getting any younger, and my mind keeps wandering." She put both hands on her legs, but a grin crossed her lips. "I want some grandbabies."

Jack looked at Replacement and burst out laughing. Aunt Haddie laughed too and squeezed Replacement's hand.

"All right." Aunt Haddie stroked Replacement's arm. "I won't talk about it anymore...today."

They visited with her for another hour. She talked about the present, but Jack gently guided her to reminisce; he loved it when she talked about the past. Aunt Haddie told the most wonderful stories, but Jack liked the ones about Chandler and Mich.e.l.le best. She went on and on, and they both listened and laughed as she talked about a time he was so glad was not forgotten.

In need of your services Jack set down his fork and put his dishes in the sink. Replacement was busy typing on the computer. He walked over to the hall table to look again for his gloves. It was supposed to be a little brisk tonight so he thought he might need them.

"What're you looking for?" Replacement called back to him.

"My gloves. I haven't unpacked the other pair, and I can't find them," he muttered as he went to look in the bedroom again.

Jack cracked his neck. Finding his gloves was a little detail, and a small piece of equipment, but his years in the Army had taught him that little details could save your life.

Like I'm gonna die if I... d.a.m.n it. Find the gloves, Jack.

Someone knocked at the front door. Jack went back to the bedroom door to see who it was as Replacement bounded by and suddenly stopped. She straightened her shirt and stood up straight; she looked toward the bedroom. When she saw Jack, she froze.

"This may be for me." She cleared her throat. "Can I have a moment of privacy?"

Jack's face hardened into a scowl.

Privacy? Who the h.e.l.l is she expecting?

Jack took a step forward to lean against the doorframe. "Go ahead and get it, kid," he grumbled as he crossed his arms.

Replacement gave him a look that appeared to be a mix of displeasure and nervousness. Her mouth crinkled up, and then she spun around and walked to the door. Jack could see her pause to take a deep breath before she opened it, but he couldn't tell who was on the other side. Replacement just stood there.

"Oh, really?" Replacement's voice was loud enough Jack could tell something was wrong. He walked forward until she turned around. Her eyebrows were tightly clumped together and her shoulders were square. She stiffly marched forward and stuck her hand out toward Jack. Clasped between the fingers of her trembling fist were his missing gloves. Jack tilted his head to the side and looked up as Marisa walked through the door with an amused grin on her face.

"Here are your gloves." Replacement tapped them against Jack's chest. "She," she jerked her thumb in Marisa's direction, "said you forgot them when you stopped in to visit last night."

d.a.m.n.

Jack swallowed. "I'm on...neighborhood liaison patrol. It's my job to check into the local businesses, including Marisa's."

Jack looked over Replacement's head to Marisa, who nodded in mock approval.

"Yeah, right," Replacement snapped before she spun around to face Marisa. "Thanks. I'm really sorry you have to go now, but I have to see Jack gets off to work-"

"Actually, I came to see you." Marisa smiled.

Both Jack's and Replacement's mouths fell open. "Me? Her?" they asked at once.

Marisa took out a folded piece of paper. "I have need of your services." She handed the paper to Replacement, who beamed. Jack glowered.

Replacement stepped aside and motioned Marisa into the living room. "How can I be of a.s.sistance, Ms. Vitagliano?" She rushed over to grab a pen and notebook off the desk. Marisa sat on the old couch while Replacement pulled the wheeled computer chair forward.

"I have a problem, and I'd like to retain your services," Marisa replied.

"You do?" Replacement's voice rose. "I mean...certainly. What's the issue you need a.s.sistance with?"

"Graffiti. Someone's been spraying horrible graffiti outside, behind my store. I want to know who it is."

"What? Wait a second." Jack walked over to tower over both of them. "You never told me-"

Marisa held up a hand as she looked at Replacement. "I did go to the police, but it's obvious there's little they can do."

Jack open and closed his mouth a few times before he stormed into the kitchen.

"You want me to find them?" Replacement pointed at herself.

Marisa leaned forward and tapped the flyer. "That's what the ad says. The police said it was some local teenager, and they would have to catch him in the act."

"Who did?" Jack snapped.

"His name was Officer Murphy."

"Murphy? He's a moron, that's why he said that. Moron cops say stuff like that, and Murphy's a moron. Why the h.e.l.l would you go-"

"Jack, please." Replacement sat up straighter. "I'm sorry about the interruption." She shot a quick glare at Jack. "And the vandalism. My rate is..." Replacement frantically flipped through pages of her notebook. "I charge..."

"The first time I had to have the paint removed, it cost me two hundred bucks. Now, they're saying it will be five hundred because there's much more. I'll pay you five hundred to find the person responsible."

"Done." Replacement smiled. As she began to scribble quick notes, the smile faded. "You said you hired someone to remove it. Have they?"

Marisa shook her head. "Not yet. They're coming tomorrow."

"Good. I need to get pictures. I can go right back over with you."

Marisa's lips pursed and she clicked her tongue. "Actually, I did need to talk with Jack and-"

"You can talk with him on the way. He has to go downtown for work, anyway." Replacement got up and hurried into her bedroom.

Jack stood at the sink and smirked. Marisa sauntered over.

"I don't know what you had planned," Jack whispered, "but this is about as safe as a cruise ship speeding past icebergs on its maiden voyage."

"Shut up, Jack." She wrinkled her nose. "I do want to catch the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d who keeps putting that garbage on the outside of my shop."

"Is it worth half a grand?" Jack walked to get his jacket.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Now, that's worth a grand." He winked and she pushed him.

"Ready." Replacement hopped out of her bedroom with her jacket on, all ready to go.

Replacement rattled off questions as they made the fifteen-minute walk downtown. Jack strolled behind the two women and shook his head. Marisa was tall and s.e.xy; she strutted down the sidewalk as if it were a catwalk. Next to her, Replacement looked like a perky teenager as her ponytail bobbed around and her hands gestured in every direction.

I love being around both of them.

They burst out laughing and turned back to look at him. Jack nodded, and they laughed even harder.

So they can make me a bit crazy, too.

They stopped in front of the store where Jack could see someone had spray-painted a four-foot section of the brick. Replacement snapped pictures.

Jack tilted his head. "I can't read it. You said it was horrible. What's it say?"

Marisa looked at him in disbelief. "Look at it." She thrust her hands forward. "You can't read it because of the overspray, and they used flat pastel orange and shiny florescent green. It's hideous work." She shuddered.

Jack coughed and looked down.

She's an artist.

"I'm going to let you ladies work on this while I work on not catching the bad guys to give Replacement here more customers."

"That would be great," Replacement called over her shoulder as she snapped another shot.

He shook his head.

Marisa leaned close to Jack to whisper, "Can you stop by later? I really need to see you."

The intensity in her voice bothered him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Marisa frowned as she looked down. When she looked up, Jack's whole body tensed. Even though the corner of her mouth curled up, he could see fear in her eyes.

"I keep having this bad feeling," her shoulders hunched, "like somebody's watching me."

Jack stepped forward. "Have you noticed anything? Seen anything?"

She shook her head. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Who'd be watching me?" She put her hand on his shoulder, and a forced smile twitched across her lips.

Replacement walked back to them with a serious expression on her face. "Okay, we need to talk. Do you have an office?"

"I'm fine, Jack." Marisa leaned in to hug him and whispered in his ear, "It's probably just me missing you."

"I'll stop by and check in on you later," Jack rea.s.sured her.

"Bye." Replacement waved as she grabbed Marisa by the elbow.

Jack watched as Replacement dragged her into the store.

With her past, it's not being paranoid; it's staying alive...

As Jack's shift dragged on, his thoughts went back to Replacement. The monotony of walking around downtown resulted in him constantly falling back into a debate with himself.

Replacement wants to stop, and now I can't stop thinking about her? Seriously? She was the one who dug me, not the other way around. Now I start thinking maybe... Why is that? Forbidden fruit is the sweetest? You want what you can't have? d.a.m.n.