And Then She Was Gone(80)

“Do you have any alarms going off?”

“No. But I just keep wondering why she walked back to work and not here. If she hadn’t walked through Hamilton Park, she’d be alive right now.”

“That’s creepy.” Chandler suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh no… Damn.”

“What?”

“The guy’s coming over.”

Michael Shaw was walking across his yard, straight toward the Impala. He was wearing shorts and flip-flops.

Vargas’s warning echoed in Jack’s head. If I catch you within ten yards of anything to do with my investigation…

Jack stomped on the gas. The engine revved, but the car didn’t go anywhere—it was in park.

“Go, go!” Chandler urged.

Jack dropped the gearshift into drive. The engine sputtered and died. “Crap.”

“Hey!” Michael called out.

Jack slammed the transmission back into park and started the car again.

“Hello?” Michael yelled as he stepped forward.

Jack started to put the car into drive, but his hand hesitated on the gearshift. “This is our chance to talk to him,” he whispered.

“What? No. Just go.” Chandler’s hand twitched as though he was moving the gear himself.

Jack shut off the engine and got out of the car. He called out to Michael, “I think something’s wrong with the carburetor.” He walked over to the hood, looked through the windshield at Chandler, and pointed to the driver’s side of the car. “When I tell you, start it up.”

Chandler shot a nasty look at Jack, but he slid across the bench seat and behind the steering wheel.

Jack lifted the hood and slotted in the rod to hold it in place. “I hope we didn’t wake you up with the car noise.”

Michael walked over. “Nah, I was up. I just didn’t know what you were doing out here.” He frowned, and his ruddy complexion went a little paler. “There’ve been reporters all over the place this last week.”

“Give it a little gas,” Jack called to Chandler while he fiddled with a lever. “Reporters? Why?”

Michael stared at Jack, and his eyes became even redder. He blew his nose. Jack saw this was an opening to ask him some questions about Stacy, but he struggled for the right words to get him talking. “Are you famous or something?”

“No.” Michael cleared his throat. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”

“I think I can get her going.”

Michael exhaled. “Maybe I can help.” He leaned his head forward and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes were rimmed red. “Is it stalling?”

“Yeah. It’s been doing that lately.”

“It could just be some bad gas.” Michael sneezed, then blew his nose again. “Damn pollen.”

“Allergies?”

“Yeah. Pretty severe this time of year.”

“Sorry. I know those can get pretty bad.” Jack then called out to Chandler, “Try to start it.”

Chandler started the engine and held the gas down. Jack adjusted the carburetor.

“Ease off,” Jack called out. He looked over at the house, scanning for anything that might have a bearing on the case. He was drawing a complete blank.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael was watching him. With a greasy finger, Jack pointed behind Michael’s house. “I used to cut through your yard to go sledding up on Morton’s Hill.”

“Oh, yeah. The realtor told us that kids do that.” Michael smiled. “My wife and I…” His grin quickly soured. “There’s a big tree up the top. She wanted me to put a swing up there for…” He cleared his throat. His eyes glistened. He rubbed them with the back of his hands. “I gotta get some sleep.”

Jack felt bad for the guy.

“Look, I’ll call a tow for you guys,” Michael said.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it going enough to make it home.” Jack grabbed the rod and closed the hood. “Sorry again for being loud.”

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I was up.”

Jack walked over to the driver’s side as Chandler slid over. “Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Jack waved, and so did Michael.

As they drove away, Chandler exhaled loudly. “That freaked me out. Did you talk about anything?”

“No.” Jack rubbed the side of his face. “I couldn’t ask him about… you know. I just felt bad for him. I guess I’ve been thinking of the guy like a piece in the puzzle and not a person. But when I saw him face to face…”

“He looked bad. Like he hasn’t slept in a while,” Chandler said.

“It looked like he’d been crying. Sucks.”