“No…” Chandler stretched the word out. “It’s not her. It’s you. You’re not a country club, polo horse type of guy.”
Jack laughed. “That’s for sure.” His smile dropped. “Are you saying that’s what she wants me to be?”
Chandler leaned back. “Look, just because you’re invited to a dinner at the country club doesn’t mean they’d let you in as a member. But I know you. Under your tough exterior, you got a big heart. You fall hard. This girl is used to fancy restaurants and exotic trips, not ice cream and the b-ball game.”
Jack shrugged. “Maybe she’s different.”
“Maybe…” Chandler watched the game for a bit, then said, “Six thirty?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll be late.”
“Five bucks says I’m not.”
Chandler reached for his wallet.
“I thought you didn’t bet,” Jack said.
“I don’t. It’s not a bet when the outcome is guaranteed. And it’s a guarantee you’ll be late. Easy money.”
“Shut up.” Jack stood.
“We on?” Chandler held out five bucks.
“No.”
Chandler laughed.
As Jack walked away to his car, a police cruiser rolled into the parking lot, followed by a dark brown Crown Vic. Two officers hurried out of the cruiser, one male and one female.
Jack stopped when he saw the grizzled detective riding shotgun in the Crown Vic: Detective Clark. When Jack was twelve, his adoptive father set up a couple of police station tours and ride-alongs. That’s when he first met Clark. Clark took a liking to Jack, and gave Jack a real picture of what law enforcement was like—warts and all.
The car door opened and Clark got out. His short gray hair was a few shades lighter than his suit. He spoke to the uniformed cops and handed them some papers. The two officers nodded and followed the other detective over to the basketball courts.
Detective Clark noticed Jack and strode over. He gave Jack’s hand a firm shake. “How are you, Stratton?”
Jack grinned. He couldn’t help it. Clark always stretched out his last name in a voice that made you think he chewed rocks.
“I’m good.”
“I heard you’re headed into the Army. Why not go straight to college like your dad and I suggested?”
“I thought the Army would be best.”
Detective Clark’s expression remained unchanged.
“My dad’s having to take early retirement because of his health,” Jack said. “It’s his heart. I didn’t want him to have the stress of paying for my college, too.”
Detective Clark gave Jack an approving nod. “Well, the Army is a good way in. GI enrollment. Then college though, right? And after that, the police academy?”
“That’s the plan. I still have that shirt you gave me.”
“That thing had to be four sizes too big when I gave it to you. I never thought you’d grow into it.”
Jack briefly smiled.
“It’s a smart plan, Jack. That’s what my partner did.” Detective Clark watched one of the officers talking to a few people in the bleachers. “Just remember to stay out of trouble. Any kind of disciplinary record can kill your chances.”
“I will.” Jack followed the seasoned officer’s watchful stare. “What’s going on? Does this have something to do with what was happening at H.T. Wells?”
Clark raised an eyebrow. “Observant.” He took out a cigarette.
Clark’s eyes matched his suit. Pale gray. Because of the dark circles under them, his eyes looked even grayer today, like the sky before a storm.
“Something happened,” Clark said. He handed Jack a flyer.
It showed a picture of a petite woman with shoulder-length honey-blond hair. Her bangs made her bright, cornflower-blue eyes and her wide smile stand out in her heart-shaped face. She was pretty, but the way she angled her head made her seem shy. She reminded Jack of a teacher he had a crush on once. Clark lit his cigarette while Jack read the flyer.
Missing.
Stacy Shaw. Age 26. White female. Blond, blue eyes. 5’2”. One hundred and ten pounds. Last seen wearing a gray blouse and black dress pants, and carrying a tan handbag with gold swirls. Stacy is diabetic and may need immediate medical attention.
“What happened?” Jack asked.
“The young lady works over at H.T. Wells, but we found her car a mile outside of town, in a ditch, at Ford’s Crossing last night. She went off the road, down the embankment, and hit a tree. We’re looking for anyone who may have seen her.”
Jack pointed to the cruisers. “Why so much manpower?”
Clark took a long draw of his cigarette. “I can’t say, but believe me, it’s critical we find her as soon as possible.” He looked at Jack. “Do me a favor—ask around, okay?”