Girl Jacked by Christopher Greyson Page A

stayed empty in spite of the dog’s warning.
    “Is this place deserted or what?” Kendra asked as she scanned the area.
    There wasn’t a soul in sight.
    “It always is at eight in the morning… everyone’s still sleeping off the coke and booze from last night,” Donald cracked.
    “Kendra, you watch the back. This guy's assaults have all been on women, and he jumped them. If I were going to put money on it, I’d lay 4-to-1 that he takes off. A balcony on the end apartments connects them. He could try to go there. Plus, there are utility closets that link the apartments. I’ve seen water heaters in them, but this guy maybe skinny enough to slip through.” Jack said.
    Kendra nodded. “I’ll cover them. If he bolts, I’ll nail him.”
    “Good.”
    Jack gave himself a once over and went through his list: Gun. Taser. Vest. Mace. Cuffs. Baton.
    Donald looked over at his trainee, “No unnecessary chances, okay?”
    Kendra nodded.
    Jack forced himself to walk slowly and Donald followed behind.
    Third floor. All of these apartments, same layout.
    A pair of yellowed eyes peered out from a first floor window and hastily disappeared.
    The stench of urine hit his nose when he got to the staircase.
    Front door. Square living room. Kitchen in the back. Utility closet in kitchen. Bathroom to the left then the bedroom.
    The second floor had a couple of old lawn chairs next to the stairs and cigarette butts littered the cement. A chain held a mountain bike frame that was missing the tires, seat, and handlebars.
    Third floor.
    Jack flexed his shoulders. He leaned over the railing and saw Kendra. She was watching the back, and her head was in constant motion.
    Head on a swivel. Good girl.
    Jack reached the unit. He motioned and Donald waited near the window. Standing to the side of the door, Jack knocked. He didn’t pound on it like some cops do. He didn’t want to sound like the Gestapo. A dog two apartments down started barking, then another. Both sounded like big dogs. He instinctively put his hand on his mace. He knocked again. The face of a little girl appeared in the corner of the window.
    Damn. A little kid.
    A woman in her early twenties opened the door. She was dressed in gray baggy sweat pants and a loose top. The baby in her arms was pulling on the top so much that her left breast was almost exposed. She yanked her shirt out of the baby's hand while using her leg to try to hold back the little kid who had been peering out the window.
    Jack categorized them as a non-threat and began scanning the background. The living room was dark, but there was enough light to see.
    No one visible. Kitchen empty.
    He listened intently for any sounds in the apartment.
    “Yeah?” She alternated from looking at the floor to trying to look at him. Her eyes would catch his for a brief moment and then dart away.
    Red mark on cheek. Bruise on arm. Distrust. Fear.
    “Good morning ma’am. I’m Officer Jack Stratton.”
    “Yeah?” She pulled the baby's hand from her hair.
    “Sorry to disturb you but I have a few questions.” He kept his tone light. “May I ask you, your name please?”
    “Nancy Mulligan.”
    “And this is your apartment?” He gave an extra wide smile.
    She just nodded her head.
    “I’m looking for Kevin Arnold. Is he in?”
    “He doesn’t live here.”
    The little kid turned and looked into the apartment. The mother is lying.
    “Ma’am” He gestured for her to step a little outside of the apartment. She stood frozen for a second but then Jack turned his eyes to her. She faltered and stepped out.
    He turned slightly and leaned in a little. “I know you want to protect him. I’m not asking you to give him up but he needs help.”
    His training in domestic violence kicked in. Beaten women often turned on the authorities and protected their abuser.
    “Momma?” the little girl began tugging on Nancy’s shirt.
    Jack could tell that she was on the edge of letting him have access into the