Girl Jacked (5 page)

Mrs. Stevens’ eyes narrowed and her fat lips pursed into a puffy line.

“… and she is mental and … retarded emotionally … and I just wanted to get her to a place that would take care of her …”

“What about the other one?” Mrs. Stevens started tapping her foot.

“The other...?”

“Girl.” He didn’t know how Mrs. Stevens even said the word as her lips pressed together so tightly they didn’t move.

“The other girl is my, my … cousin…” He regretted the lie as soon as it passed his lips.

“Crap! Crap!” Jack jumped as Replacement began twitching and swearing behind him. “Sorry! Crap! Sorry pretty lady!” Her head was spasmodically going back and forth as her arms and legs jerked. Even though Jack knew it was an act, it was quite unnerving. “Crap! Son-of-a–"

“There, there. It’s okay.” Jack wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. He honestly wanted her to stop before he started laughing.

Mrs. Stevens stepped back and clutched her robe to her chest. “Is she dangerous?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

“No! No. She is harmless!” His voice was reassuring as he began hustling Replacement down the hallway. “I just need to get her meds refilled right away.”

They burst through the door. Replacement grinned from ear to ear and made a goofy face. He stared at her and put his hands out.

“What was that? Are you trying to get me kicked out?”

“You said follow your lead!” she protested.

“Shutting up would have been following my lead.”

“You told her I was mental! Where did you come up with that? And your cousin? You think she was gonna believe Miss Fake Boobs is your cousin?” she laughed.

“If you wanted to act, how about trying Forrest Gump, and coming off harmless and not like some twitchy little psycho?”

“I called her pretty!” She shrugged like that should cover everything.

Jack was speechless. He stared back at her not knowing what to say. Movement at a second floor window caught his eye. Mrs. Stevens pulled the curtain back to look down at them.

“Okay act
a little
out of it, she’s watching.”

Replacement went back to her fish-out-of-water-dance. This time though, she toned it way down. He couldn’t help but smile as he led her to the car and noticed the odd looks they received from some of the other people on the street.

Jack started the car and headed for the college. As they drove, Replacement behaved like a big puppy. Even though it was cold out, she rolled her window part way down and started touching all the buttons. When she went to mess with the radio, he swatted her hand away.

“Stop touching everything.”

She checked herself in the mirror and then almost climbed into the back seat. He looked over at her. She had the body of an eighteen year old but the social graces of a toddler.

Twisting back around, she flopped down and pulled out the ashtray, causing some coins to spill onto the floor of the car.

“Sorry!”

“Sit still. You’re making me nervous,” he chided. She still acted like that ten-year-old puppy that chased him and Chandler around.

Jack pushed the ashtray back into the dash of his car. It was a worn, blue, dented 1978 Chevy Impala that had been semi-refurbished. He had picked it up at a police auction for short money. It had way too many miles on it. Jack and the car were twins in that regard, but the Impala seemed to be running better right now.

Replacement made a face. “This car is …”

His look must have been cutting because she shut right up.

You don’t say anything about a guy’s car. It’s
like ranking on someone’s mother.

Jack saw her shiver and then she frowned and rolled the window back up. After a few miles, she asked, “Where are we going?” She had kept quiet a lot longer than he thought was possible.

“White Rocks. First stop is Michelle’s apartment, and then we’ll go on to the college.”

“Why don’t you go and see what the cops have?”

Jack kept his eyes on the road.

Because my boss, Sheriff Collins, is so by the book that he would go crazy and tell me to follow proper channels and let Fairfield P.D. and Joe Davenport, handle it.

“We’ll start at her apartment. Do you have the address of where she stayed?”

“Yeah but I was there once, and they didn’t know nothing …” she tapped her knuckles against the car door in frustration.

“Didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry teacher,” Replacement poked out her tongue. “I’m just visiting the college, not enrolling today, right?” Replacement settled into her seat and crossed her arms.

Jack laughed, “Good line, kid.”

She smiled, put her hands behind her head, and stretched her feet on onto the dashboard. Jack made a mental note to give out positive reinforcement.

“How are we going to start looking into this?” she asked.

“You want to start at the end of the trail–” he began, but she cut him off.

“Why don’t we start with the cops then?”

“That’s not the end of
her
trail. Besides …” He was about to go on about Detective Joe Davenport and the fact that he liked to go over case details while he was baiting a hook, but he thought better of it. “I don’t want to muddy the waters. We’ll start at her apartment. And I will ‘
quietly’
call over to Fairfield’s Sheriff’s Department and see what they have.”

She remained silent for the rest of the ride except for the occasional ‘turn left’ and ‘turn right’ as she gave him directions.

They arrived outside an upscale apartment complex, close to the college and in a great part of town.

How could Michelle afford this and school?

Just one look with a raised eyebrow conveyed that question to Replacement. “She got a full scholarship.” He could hear the ring of pride in her voice. “Free everything!”

“Scholarship?” Jack didn’t remember Michelle playing any sport.

“It was a work scholarship for computers. She had to work here, but she could go to school. She is super smart.”

Jack drove past the apartment. His car would stick out wherever he parked it in this neighborhood, and he wanted to create the illusion that he was an approachable, normal, guy. He swung into a parking space and shut off the engine.

“Just keep quiet, okay?”

She pantomimed a key locking her mouth again and flashed him an impish grin. Jack frowned. That smile said she was going to do what she wanted in the long run.

I should lock her in the car!
But, if I have a young girl with me, I’ll be more approachable to college students.

Jack debated and decided to take her along
.
She made no effort to hide her grin.

Yeah… lost that one Jack.

“Does she have a roommate or a boyfriend? Was she in a sorority? Did she talk about friends?” He fired off questions as they walked towards the apartment, angry he hadn’t asked them on the car ride over.

“Yes, she has a roommate. No boyfriend. No sorority. And no she didn’t talk about friends.” She fired the answers back with a triumphant grin. “Missy Lorton.” Her smile widened as she had guessed his next question before he asked.

He ran his fingers through his hair and scanned the buzzers. He hesitated when he noticed that Missy’s was the only apartment with one name, LORTON, typed on a fancy tan paper that was slightly darker than the others.

The paper is newer; the paper from the other apartments has faded. Someone doesn’t think Michelle is coming back.

“You’re sure this is Michelle’s apartment?”

“It said LORTON and CAMPBELL when I came out before.” Replacement jabbed the paper with each word.

Jack pressed the buzzer.

“We’ll talk to Missy first and then to the neighbors, okay?”

Someone buzzed them in.

They jogged up the stairs. Jack didn’t have time to catch his breath before the door to apartment 328 swung open. A rather short, extremely plump girl stood in the doorway.

“I thought I was going to meet…” Her whiny voice trailed off, and she took a step back.

“Miss Lorton? My name–” Jack started to say as he worked up his most dashing smile.

It didn’t work. Missy’s mouth flew wide open, and she tried to slam the door shut. Jack’s foot paid the price of acting as a doorstop. 

“Miss, I’m just here to ask you a few quick questions.” He tried not to clench his teeth from the pain.

“A salesman?” Her pudgy face relaxed, and the fear on it changed to barely hidden disgust. “No solicitors,” she whined.

This time he caught the slamming door with his hands and his foot.

“We’re looking for Michelle Campbell.” He said the last part with a forced smile because it was surprisingly difficult to keep the door open with the heavy girl pressing against it.

This porker weighs in at 250 pounds easy.

“They said she transferred to a different school.” Missy hesitantly stepped back from the door.

Jack grabbed Replacement with his left hand and encouraged her forward so Missy could see that he was with a girl, hoping that would softener her up.

“I already told the police everything I know,” Missy shrugged.

“Missy, I’m sorry ... Can we start again?” Jack was trying to pour on the charm. He hoped he still had a little left. “We are old family friends, and we just came by to get Michelle’s things.”

Missy’s face was expressionless.

“She took it all.” She turned her hands out, shoulders relaxed, back stiff and she looked straight in his eyes.

She’s lying.

“That’s fine.” He lowered his head and his voice. “The college informed us she transferred. When did she tell you she was transferring?”

She hesitated for a moment too long. Missy stood blinking while she looked at Jack. Her lie would reveal something, and Jack waited for it.

“Tell me where Michelle is, or I’ll kick your fat–” Jack caught Replacement as she lunged at the portly girl.

Missy fell backwards and rolled squealing into the kitchen.

With one girl hurling a string of obscenities and threats that would make a mafia hit man proud and the other girl shrieking as she struggled to sit up, Jack called out, “Thank you very much Miss Lorton, we’ll be going now.”

He lifted Replacement bodily from the floor and stormed out of the apartment. She had stopped struggling by the second floor, but he didn’t let go as he carried her out. He was beyond mad. As they got to the car, he dropped her to the ground, and she had to grab onto the car to avoid falling.

“IN!” He yanked her door open.

She hopped in.

Jack marched over to his side and slammed his door shut. The tires screeched as he hit the gas and pulled out.

“I could have gotten her to tell us where Michelle’s stuff is,” Replacement began.

“What is the matter with you? You can’t just take pot shots at people that tick you off. And what would Aunt Haddie say?”

He didn’t like swearing at a woman, but he was so mad he couldn’t stop himself from making some sound. His low growl made Replacement back off. She moved as far away from him as the large seats in the Impala would allowed.

“Of all the stupid things to do! And with a girl like that, you let them lie.”

He veered to the side of the road, slammed on the brakes and glared at her. Jack’s anger burned hot, but his skin went cold.

“Something
is
wrong. That girl was lying. It was obvious,” Jack, pointed out.

“And her stuff? Michelle didn’t go anywhere, so someone took her stuff.” Her voice was small now.

“Missy said ‘They’ told her, not ‘Michelle’, or ‘she’.”

He had followed enough missing person cases. Simple ones sometimes had happy endings. Michelle’s roommate didn’t want to talk and was lying about something. This wasn’t a simple missing person case.

He looked at Replacement and sighed. “Maybe we can use that meltdown. Who knows? If I need to talk to her again, I can always say if she doesn’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll bring you back to have a chat with her.”

Replacement smiled slightly, but her eyes were gray. They rode in silence. She propped her head up on her hand and leaned up against the window. Jack noticed that she kept her eyes closed.

What did she think? Once I started looking then Michelle would suddenly appear? I show up, and everything is fixed because I’m the superhero?

This is reality kid, and reality sucks.

They headed to the Campus Police Station. He had been there for various calls in the last six months. Usually it was for noise complaints and the odd drunk. Sometimes he would earn overtime with traffic duty for events.

They called it Campus Police, but it was only a couple of rungs up the ladder from the official high school hall monitor's office. The ‘force’ consisted of less than ten guys and two gals who were either just out of high school or already retired. They were a nice quiet group for a nice quiet college.

White Rocks Eastern College was an old, private institution with less than 2000 students. Although small, it was the source of a very large portion of the county's tax base, a fact that Sheriff Collins never let anyone forget. With this in mind, and his constant desire to stay under Collins’ radar, Jack was getting ready to try locking Replacement in the car.

“I won’t say anything.” She could have been reading his mind because she was still looking out the window. The fight had gone out of her, and she appeared even more downcast.

“I would be very appreciative if you didn’t.” He parked the car. “Unless of course you want to wait here?”

“No. I’ll come in.”

The security office was a small building, consisting of a few rooms. They walked up the cement ramp and could see a large main desk through the windows. A woman with an immense hairdo greeted them before the little bell over the door even finished ringing.

“Why good morning to the both of you!” she squealed. “How may I be of help to you today?” It was hard to tell how old she was, considering all the layers of makeup she had on, but her smile was genuine.

“Good morning to you, too.” Jack found that when he greeted someone, trying to match their tone was best. “I’m looking for the …” he searched for the right title but drew a blank.

Sometimes security people try to match police titles and get their feelings hurt when you use the wrong one. At the mall in town, the security referred to each other as ‘Officer’, and they loved it when he did too.

“Registration Office?” she added trying to help him out.

“Oh, no. I’m looking for the–”

“Are you registering your daughter?”

The question brought him up short but then he noticed that she was winking at Replacement. Her joke worked. Replacement grinned.

“Funny.” He nodded his head at the woman who was so happy with her little joke. “Actually, I’m looking for the person covering right now.” Jack figured the generic phrase would pay off, and it did.

“Certainly!” She pushed back in her chair and wheeled it over to the phone.

She dialed, and after a short pause, a phone rang. Jack looked over, hearing the ringing coming from an open door ten feet away.

“Neil Waters, security,” the man answered, and they could hear him from the office.

Replacement and Jack exchanged a quick wide-eyed look and even faster turned away so they would not laugh.

“Neil, a nice couple is here to see you.”

“Sure, send them in.” 

“Okay. I’m going to run and get a bite,” the woman announced as she waved Jack and Replacement toward Waters’ office door. “Do you want anything?”

“Where are you going?” Neil asked.

“I’m just getting a coffee and muffin at Debbie Sue’s. Want your usual?”

“Sure.” A second later an older man, in one of the whitest shirts Jack had ever seen, stuck his head out of the office. “You kids all set or can May pick you up something?”

“Thanks but we’re all set, Neil,” Jack reassured him as he walked over and shook his hand. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to complicate things by placing an order with May. “I just have a couple of questions, and we’ll be out of your way.”

Neil laughed and ran his fingers through hair almost as white as his shirt. “Okay. See you, May.” He waved. “Come on in, folks.”

“Do you mind if I wait out here?” Replacement asked. Her sad face was back.

Neil checked with Jack via a quick look, then with all the compassion of a grandfather nodded. “Sure you can sweetie. Just come in if you need to.”

His office was as clean as his shirt. Everything had a place and a place for everything. It was spotless. He gestured to a comfortable chair as he moved behind the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Jack. Jack Stratton.”

“Now I remember. You helped with the Alumni benefit.” Neil folded his hands, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

Great... He remembers that I’m a cop. Nod. Look happy.

 
“I’m here because I’m a family friend of Michelle Campbell.”

“Oh, uh… You are aware that the police were here and did a safety check on her whereabouts?”

“I am. I had a couple of additional questions. What do you think happened to Michelle?” he emphasized ‘you’.

Make him feel respected and get him talking.

“Well…” Neil straightened up in his chair and Jack could see him gathering his thoughts. “We talked to her roommate, and she told us that Michelle transferred to Western Technical University out in California. I called myself and spoke to the Registrar out there, nice group. They’re way up the coast. Get a lot of rain. They said that everything looked good on their end too.”

“Did they say that she had been out there?”

“They couldn’t recall her specifically. Everything is electronic now anyway.”

“Did they have an address for Michelle?”

“They didn’t. It could be that she just hasn’t gotten housing yet. She hadn’t started classes, but she was good to go.” His expression was reassuring.

“You said she hadn’t started classes
yet
. Did they say why?”

“She hasn’t started yet because classes haven’t started. We’re both between semesters now. Maybe she just took a little time to herself, and she’ll check in?” He leaned in and put his arms down on the desk.

In that moment of silence, Jack listened for Replacement but didn’t hear anything.

That might not be a good thing.

“I hope so. Do you know where her belongings are?”

“The roommate said she cleared out. When we got there, the apartment was empty.”

“Well… thank you, Neil. I appreciate it.”

Jack shook Neil’s hand and they walked back out to where Replacement sat with her hands folder in her lap.

Too quiet. What’s she been up to?

As they drove away from the college, neither of them spoke. Jack was lost in his own thoughts, grateful that Replacement was content to stare out of the window.

She finished classes and headed out west? Just took all her stuff and went? That’s something I would do. Not her. No way would Michelle run out on them like I did.

“Did Michelle own a car?” Jack’s anger was kicking in.

“Yeah. A blue Honda Civic. I told the ‘brainiac’ detective, and he said he’d put an ‘alert’ out for it.”

Stupid. I should have asked her about the car first. I’ll have to run it when I get home.

“When did Michelle decide to go to college? She was a lot older than your typical college freshman.”

“She was, so what?” Replacement became instantly defensive. “She always wanted to go to college. She loved computers, school, and learning. She just couldn’t afford it. She was saving up for it and then she heard of that scholarship.” Replacement looked at her feet and shook her head. “She was so happy when she got it.”

“What was Michelle doing for work before college?”

“She worked at McDermott Insurance. She did computer security. She taught me.”

“What do you do for work?”

Replacement shrugged. “I have some… computer jobs. I do a little website stuff now and then. I’m sort of ‘on call’. Michelle said I should get some certification so I took an online security class. Michelle…”

Replacement’s knuckles hammering on the panel of the door told Jack of her frustration. Out the corner of his eye, he tried not to watch as she welled up. She looked up at the ceiling of the car and then the tears began to fall.

Jack pretended to concentrate on driving as Replacement quietly cried. He thought back to one of his first criminal justice classes; Psychology of the Victim. The instructor’s words haunted him now.

“When a crime is committed, who is the victim?” Hands shot up all over the room, along with one brave voice.

“A person that suffers harm or death from another or from some adverse act.”

“And using that definition, who is the victim in a missing person’s case?”

“The person missing?”

“Wrong!” The teacher had brought both hands crashing down on his podium with a loud bang. “What about the mother? What about the poor little brother? The uncle, father, sister, teacher, lover….” He had fired down the list, his words hanging in the air, suspended on the silent response to his question.

“AND… If the VICTIM is a person who suffers harm or death from another or from some adverse act what about YOU? Will you not lose sleep wondering what happened? Will you not pore over the facts and interview all of the shell-shocked people who want to know what happened? Where is their loved one they ask, and they have turned to you for help, but you have no answer! You look at them with pity, but you look in the mirror at yourself with frustration! You turn inward and ask yourself the accusatory question why can’t you find them? In addition, what about your wife or husband who grows tired of asking 'what you are thinking?' You remain silent and become more and more removed? What about your little child who asks, ‘if I got taken, would you find me?’”

The teacher had paused, the lesson now impaled into every head in the room. They had suffered a knockout blow and sat silently staring at their desks.

With Replacement still forlornly gazing out the window, Jack again heard the professor’s final words. “For those of you who want to wear the badge of a police officer, you must know this.
You will be a victim. You will know pain
.”

“Where are we going?” Replacement asked as the exit to downtown disappeared behind them on the highway.

“I’m taking you home.”

“But I thought we were going to look.”

“I will.” He stressed the ‘I’. “I don’t know if Gina will–”

“You said she won’t be back.” She protested as she turned in the seat to look at him.

“Look, my landlady’s pissed. My girlfriend’s pissed. I only got a few hours’ sleep and I’m tired. I’m working the 2 to 10 pm shift tonight. I’m taking you home.”

“But…”

“Look, kid. My head’s too overloaded to ask the right questions now. You’re going home. That’s it.”

That ended all conversation for the remainder of the forty-five minutes ride out to Fairfield.

Jack couldn’t help but smile to himself as the small town came into view. It hadn’t changed so much since he had last been there.

It hasn’t changed since the 1900s.
 

Fairfield was one of the larger counties in the middle of the state, but it was also on the poorer side. A large influx of artists in the 70s had rounded out the population of paper workers, loggers, retirees, and outdoors types that had earlier gravitated to the beautiful area nestled in the hills.

This was his hometown. It wasn’t where he was born or where he’d spent the first seven years of his life, but it was his home. He remembered the drive into downtown where Aunt Haddie lived.

Jack didn’t know if she couldn’t have kids of her own, but he did know she was married once. Alton had been his name, and the only picture she had of him was a wedding picture she kept by her bed. It was on the nightstand in an old, ornate frame.

Over her bed, she had a large portrait of Jesus. It was one Jack liked because it made Jesus look like a real guy. Frames filled with pictures of smiling kids covered the wall opposite her bed. He couldn’t guess how many kids had gone through her care over the years.

Her kids. That’s what she always called us.

He remembered the first time he headed down this road. He had been numb. His real mother was a whore. If he ever talked about her, he used that word, ‘whore’. There was no other way to describe it for him. He tried to use ‘prostitute’ but felt it covered her sins and sounded too kind. It wasn’t just that she sold her body for money. No, it was because of what she had done to a child – done to him.

Jack hadn’t thought about her for a while, but as buildings and surroundings became more familiar, the thoughts slammed into his already overloaded brain.

Why?

He didn’t know the answer.

Why keep a kid seven years and then give him up?

He would shout these questions at the therapist who tried to get him to face his feelings.

My feelings? What feelings? Most of me is just numb. Dead. Then there is the other part… The dark part of me that just… hates.

“You should have taken that right. Take a right up here.” Replacement pointed with a frown, upset that he missed the street.