“Nothing.”
Jack grabbed Two Point’s shirt and yanked him forward.
“What the hell, Stratton?”
“Shut up and listen. I’m in no mood. You give me the runaround and I’ll smack the crap out of you right now. Victor said you’ve been boosting from cars. The night Stacy was killed, did you rip off a car in the parking lot?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe, nothing. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of car was it?”
“Green.”
Jack waited.
Two Point’s shoulders crept up. “It had four doors.”
“Make? Model? Plates?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Two Point shifted his weight from one foot to the other so fast it looked as if he had to run to the bathroom.
“What did you steal?”
“I don’t remember.”
Jack’s eyes blazed. He shook Two Point so hard his teeth rattled.
“Okay, okay. It was just a GPS.”
“Do you still have it, or did you pawn it?”
“I haven’t touched any of my stash since this all went down. In case the cops were following me.”
“Where’s your stash? Take me there.”
“What? Why? I’m not telling the cops I was stealing—”
“Yes you will.”
“I can’t. The cops would know I violated my probation. What do you want with the GPS anyway?”
Jack’s hand tightened into a fist.
Two Point shook his head. “No way, Stratton. You can threaten me all you want. I’ll tell them I found the wallet but I’m not taking you to my stash.”
Just then there was a rustle from behind the nearby trees, and Replacement appeared. She walked right up to Jack. “It’s in the Grangers’ shed. I’ve seen him put stuff there. He hides his stuff behind some paint cans in the back. In a milk crate.”
“Shut up—” Two Point started to say, but Jack yanked him forward so they were nose to nose.
“Get this straight,” Jack growled. “This kid is Chandler’s replacement. You know what that means? It means what you do to her, you do to Chandler. You give her any lip for giving you up, ever, and I swear the whole neighborhood will put in you in a box. Do you understand me?”
Two Point nodded.
Jack turned to Replacement. “Thanks, kid. I guess your sneaking around isn’t all bad. But right now I think you should head home.”
Replacement looked up at Jack and her cheeks flushed. Then she dashed back into the trees.
Jack turned to Two Point. “This is how this works. Shut up. I’m not explaining. You’re giving me what you took from the car in the parking lot. It’ll back up your story. Got it?”
Two Point nodded.
“Move.”
Two Point’s stash was indeed in the Grangers’ back shed. They were an elderly couple, and the husband was in a wheelchair. They probably hadn’t entered the shed in years.
Two Point pulled the shed’s warped door open. Creaking on rusted hinges, the door scraped on the floor and swung wide. Two Point walked straight to the corner.
“You’d better pray it’s here,” Jack said.
Two Point reached behind some old paint cans and pulled out a green milk crate filled with an assortment of loot: a car stereo, cell phones, CDs, some expensive-looking sunglasses. On top of it all was a GPS.
“No way,” Jack said. “It looks like this day isn’t that cursed after all.”
Two Point handed Jack the GPS. It tipped forward and a stream of water poured into Jack’s palm. Two Point looked up at the basketball-sized hole in the roof. “Crap. It must’ve rained.”
Jack stared down at the GPS in his hands. Water continued to drip out of the machine. The GPS looked new, except for the water. Jack turned it over. There was a sticker on the back.
LIBERTY CAR RENTAL. SCHENECTADY, NEW YORK.
A current surged through Jack’s body.
30
You Do Think I’m Stupid
Jack strode through the doors of the police station with Two Point in one hand and the GPS in the other. Like a treasure hunter with his prize, Jack held his head high as he marched up to the front desk and asked for Detective Clark.
The desk sergeant called the detective, and after a few minutes, a weary-looking Detective Clark walked through the door.
“This is Tommy Martin,” Jack said proudly. “Jay’s brother, the one with the APB. He stole this GPS,” Jack placed it on the desk, “from a car in Hamilton Park the night Stacy was killed. There’s a sticker on the back—it’s from Liberty Car Rental in Schenectady. I bet it was Michael Shaw who rented that car. He must have rented a car and come back and killed his wife.”