by James Andrus
She made small talk, surprised at how little accent the Dutch boys had. Two of them went to Florida State and one to Tulane, but they all liked to meet at a different city during spring break. This was their third break together.
The best built of the Dutch boys, with his shirt opened way down his chest, said, “We went to New Orleans last year to help out their economy. Too many criminals there. You can’t let down your guard. Know what I mean?”
Allie nodded absently. She liked his wide face and broad shoulders, but he had what her daddy used to call “European teeth.” She never really understood until she attended USM and met a lot of exchange students. It wasn’t the norm, but she picked up on bad teeth very quickly. This guy’s were yellow and had big gaps between each upper tooth. Then his slender, better-dressed friend smiled and said, “Would you care to dance?” When he smiled his bright teeth lit up the room. She took his hand and let him pull her gently onto the crowded dance floor.
She stayed on the floor with him for two songs; then they retreated to a table by themselves. He leaned in close and said, “My name is Yan.”
Allie had to shout in his ear. “Yan?”
“No, with a J, but it’s pronounced ‘Yan.’ “ He had blue eyes and a cute shell necklace tight around his neck. “Wanna have some fun with your new friend Jan?”
“What kind of fun?” She knew to smile at those kinds of offers now.
He held up a small speckled pill.
It was a little differently shaped from and darker than the one she had tried earlier. Allie didn’t want to risk missing her good time tonight and took the pill from his large hand and slipped it onto her tongue.
From the corner of the cavernous room, crammed with people, he watched Allie mingle near the main bar. Then she did the unexpected. He saw his little prize from Mississippi ask other men to dance. The first two appeared to be his age. She was on the prowl and grinding so hard he wondered if she’d scored more X. Then she started to down water. She picked up other people’s bottles and poured it down her throat as if a fire was in her stomach. He knew she had Ecstasy in her system. Half the girls on the floor did, but it was really hitting Allie. Her tight body moved to every beat of the band. Then, when the band took a break, she still bopped to the piped-in rock anthems. Her fire fueled his.
He could sit and watch her all night, but that might draw as much attention as talking directly to her. He knew where they could talk and where inside the giant club he needed to stay away from her.
After a few minutes she ended up with one of the slightly older guys at the bar. He had a hard, almost military look to him with short black hair and an angular face. Something about him said he wasn’t a Navy man, but he still had that kind of look. He knew that look, even had it himself, but he was patient like any predator. He’d wait for her to come to him.
After more than an hour of intermittent surveillance of cute, wild Allie, she seemed to tire of her new boyfriends and noticed him, way at the end of the bar. Her smile grew as she approached with a certain sway in her hips. This was not the quiet little girl he’d met at the beginning of the week.
He said, “Looks like you’re having fun.”
She fanned herself and accepted a bottle of water with a smile and nod. “I can’t believe I’m seeing some of the same guys I met over the weekend. I guess Jacksonville isn’t as big a town as I thought it was.”
“It’s big, but only a few people go to places like this.”
Allie swigged some more water. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
“I was hoping you’d come by.”
“Are you busy later?”
He smiled. He’d snared his little prize. “I hope so.” She tittered at his old joke, and he felt a rush of excitement at his conquest. And now he could imagine the fun they might have later.
John Stallings watched his sister yawn and contained his smile. Her whole life she’d been a night owl, watching TV or reading until early in the morning. She’d never really held a job, hiding behind the need to care for their mother and living in the little house near the St. Johns River. Her mom had gotten the house in the divorce and then inherited some money from her own mother. It was blessing to Stallings that he didn’t have to worry about his mother or sister. Helen was smart, really smart, and could do anything she wanted, but when she returned from her youthful two-year disappearance she never seemed to want to leave the house much. Once his father split and it was just her and his mom, they fed off one another and found a peaceful life in the quiet neighborhood.
Now he wondered if Helen wasn’t seeing how much good she could do in the world if she got out. She had single-handedly saved Maria, and the kids seemed pretty well adjusted to her presence.
Helen said, “It’s a weird situation.”
“Weird how?”
“It’s like I took your place. The kids look to me for day-to-day decisions, and Maria counts on me to keep her on track. I don’t think I’m helping the chances of you and her getting back together.”
“As long as you aren’t sleeping with her it’s not too weird.”
Helen gave him a flat stare. “I’m serious. I don’t want to screw up my little brother’s life.”
“I did that on my own. You’re just helping out until Maria and I can set things right.”
Helen smiled. She was a nice woman, and as her brother, Stallings never really noticed how attractive she was. What had caused her to withdraw from the world so completely? He’d never known her to even have a date. Maybe it was a family trait, because, in a way, he had withdrawn too. He just called it working hard, but even he had to admit it had given him a reason to stay separate from people, especially his family. The hell of it was that he had no idea how to correct it. Sure, he was around the house more, but had he really connected with anyone under this roof? Maria wasn’t speaking to him, Jeanie had left, he barely got a grunt out of Lauren anymore, and Charlie liked to see him because he would play soccer with the boy until they both dropped.
Helen said, “Look, John, you can’t just fix things overnight. You have time. I like it here. Let’s see what happens.”
He heard the lock on the front door turn. Lauren stepped in on high heels. He hadn’t seen them when she left to supposedly study.
“Where have you been?”
“Out?”
“Past eleven on a school night?”
“Mom said it was okay.”
He hesitated because he hated overriding Maria, but sometimes she agreed to things she shouldn’t.
Lauren didn’t finish the discussion; instead she stomped up the stairs.
Allie watched the scenery rush by as she felt the effects of the drug wash through her. This was all a big adventure to her, and she didn’t want to miss one thing. Jacksonville had seemed like a giant city to her, and it was hard to believe even after ten minutes on this road, that they were still in Jacksonville. The was nothing but fields with the thick underbrush and tightly packed pine trees interrupted by the entrance to some fancy housing development every half mile or so. She was excited. And scared. She talked a good game, but in reality she really didn’t know much about sex. Her first boyfriend, Tommy, knew less about sex than she did, so she didn’t feel self-conscious. The best experience she’d had was in the Volvo parked in her parent’s driveway. But that had serious drawbacks, like the bruise the gearshift had left on her thigh, and she’d never been able to relax fully with her family only a few yards away inside the house. This was different.
In a way she’d put the pressure on herself to go through with it. She told herself that meeting a guy and having sex in a distant city was part of the spring break experience. She had to be honest and admit she’d turned this into a more romantic adventure than it really was. She attributed some of that to just being a kid and scared of something new. It’d be fine. It wasn’t like she was a virgin. But it still scared her.
She looked over at him, so confident and handsome behind the wheel of his Jeep. He
turned and smiled back at her. He was so good looking it almost seemed fake, like a mask. His muscular arms and handsome face would have been right at home on the big screen. But even in that nice package she wasn’t sure she felt enough emotionally to justify having sex with him. She thought about what she’d tell the girls when she got back to the hotel and decided she couldn’t back out now.
Allie took a deep breath, trying to relax. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him and that this was something that she’d decided to do. Allie reached across and placed her hand on the back of his head, running her fingers through his short, neat hair.
This would be her fling for the week. Maybe for the whole semester. And she’d be able to look at the other girls on the ride back to Hattiesburg and tell them how romantic and exciting the whole encounter was.
She hoped she wouldn’t be lying, but if she had to she would.
His heart beat with a rhythm only felt when he had his prey. These were the moments he lived for. The sex was incidental; he could have sex any time he wanted. It was the power he needed. He needed it to live as much as air or water. That was why he was so careful. He’d taken great care to learn about Allie’s companions and not let them see him with her. He also had talked with Allie about what she’d told them about him. She had shared the Ecstasy hit with her chubby little friend but never said exactly who had supplied it. He’d spent a small fortune buying the quality homemade Ecstasy that couldn’t be traced. And it packed a wallop.
He relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as it consumed him here in the wide-open field near a small private airport east of downtown. The clouds over the moon had made the night a deep black void. But this was a tactile experience. Her bare, muscular back rubbed against his chest as he dropped his hands to play with her swaying breasts. He felt her breathing increase. She had a shitload of Ecstasy in her. She’d taken one hit from someone else; he had given her one more and then slipped another into a bottle of water. This girl was on fire. A chemical fire that burned inside her as he pushed her farther and farther, ramming deeper and deeper inside her.
The first set of screams were of encouragement, even if they were enhanced by the drug. Then, as he picked up the pace and more of the drugs worked their way into her bloodstream, the screams changed in tone. Now, as he pounded harder, the screaming and squirming were not sexual. At least not on Allie’s part. The X had raised her body temperature to the point that now her skin was soaked with sweat and was hot to the touch. He straightened up and let just the cheeks of her shapely butt touch his pelvis.
She panted, “Please, stop.” She gulped some air. “I need a break.”
He reached around and placed his palm on her chest. Her heart hammered at almost two hundred beats a minute.
Her legs gave out, and he let his weight fall on top of her, still thrusting.
Allie raised her head once more to breathe or scream, but she just let out a groan and collapsed.
He kept pumping, feeling her entire body go limp. The feeling of excitement and power flooded over him, making him come so hard he was afraid he’d shoot the condom off right into her.
He fell on top of her sizzling hot body, panting himself and his limbs weak. He wanted to absorb her dissipating energy. She made no movement beneath him. No breathing, not a flutter from what had to be an exploded heart, not even a settling of gases. So much better than the slow choking he used a few nights earlier. This would be the easiest death to hide yet.
He rolled off the quiet, lifeless Allie Marsh and admired his handiwork. He moved her onto the grass and started to pull on her clothes. He still had a little work to do.
Eight
Patty Levine peered across the squad bay at John Stallings behind his bare old wooden desk, crammed over next to the unused holding cell. They had both been moved into this squad bay for a big-deal homicide a few months ago and had decided they liked being in close with crimes/persons, which included any violent crimes, homicides, and robberies. Most of the other detectives that had been brought over for the Bag Man case had gone back to their own offices in auto theft, fraud, and computer crimes. A few, like Luis Martinez and Rod Morris, stayed. No one mentioned that the squad was now four detectives bigger; it just sort of happened like a slow, unstoppable evolution. That’s the way a lot things happen around police departments. No real orders are cut, just one day you look around and there are new people or you’re in a new office.
Patty wasn’t worried things might change with a new sergeant on the way. Everyone had heard rumors about Yvonne Zuni, but Patty knew how rumors about women in public service tended to be overblown. She thought it was cool to have a female sergeant and lieutenant. It was the only unit in the SO like that. Maybe one of the only police units in Florida.
Patty crossed the cramped room and settled into the hard, wooden, straight-back chair next to Stallings’s desk.
He looked up from some notes but didn’t say anything. Typical.
“What’re you working on?”
“Jason Ferrell. We’re gonna find that guy today.”
“You make him sound like a fugitive. He’s not even wanted.”
“Except by his mother.”
“He’s thirty years old.”
“Tell that to a parent missing her child.” He sighed. “She called me first thing this morning, anxious for any news. I told her we’d do everything we could to find him.” He looked around the room. “There’s nothing else cooking. I’ve screwed up too many promises lately to let down this lady.”
Patty smiled at her partner. The guy didn’t have a fault as far as she was concerned. “I’m with you. What’s the game plan?”
“If the landlord says other guys are looking for him we might want to sit on the apartment and see if they show up. If we know what he was into, we might figure out where he’s laying up.” He looked through some notes, then back to Patty. “Did you drop off the yellow liquid we found at the lab?”
“Yeah, but it’ll be a little while. They don’t see the urgency we do.”
“Let’s save our battles for when we know who we’re fighting.”
She was about to suggest checking the local surveillance video feeds in stores and other places Ferrell might have frequented, when the lieutenant stepped in through the rear door and said, “Listen up, people. I want to introduce you to your new boss.”
Patty stared as Yvonne Zuni stepped up next to Rita Hester.
John Stallings heard someone behind him mutter, “Holy shit, I don’t remember her looking like that.” Stallings wasn’t sure he had ever met the woman standing by the door, but he’d seen her around. He felt a pang of guilt that he had assumed she was an analyst or maybe someone’s executive assistant. It was a chauvinistic prejudice that he hadn’t thought he held. But Stallings had to look at this beautiful woman with tropical dark skin and bright green eyes and wonder, How on earth did you ever get the name Yvonne the Terrible?
She stepped up next to the lieutenant and said in a clear voice, “First I’d like to see each set of partners privately in the conference room to get a handle on what you’re working on. Second, I want a written summary of each case on a single sheet of paper on my desk by noon. And finally, I’m glad to be here.” Without another word she turned and stepped into the conference room. Within twenty seconds she called out, “Well, who’s gonna be first?”
Stallings and Patty exchanged glances; then both stood at the same time. He knew putting off something unpleasant didn’t make it any more tolerable. They marched together into the conference room.
“I’m John Stallings.”
“I’m Patty Levine.”
Yvonne the Terrible stood up. She held out a delicate hand and shook his hand firmly. “I know both of you. Patty, we worked the snatch-and-run bandits a couple of years ago.”
“Good memory.”
The sergeant said, “I was just a detective then.”
Patty nodded. “But you ran that case.”
Yvonne Zuni look
ed toward Stallings. “And everyone knows you, John.” She motioned them to sit down. “You guys are our missing persons team, right?”
Patty added, “And backup homicide.”
“We’ll see. What are you working on?”
Stallings and Patty took turns going through their cases. Stallings finished with a detailed view and plan on finding Jason Ferrell.
Sergeant Zuni closed her notebook in which she had scribbled several comments, then looked up at Stallings. “Instead of finding this middle-aged loser, we have a new missing persons report on a student from Mississippi named Allison Marsh. I don’t want a big media drama over a missing student. Drop what you’re doing and track her down.”
Stallings said, “I didn’t even see anything on it yet.”
“I know. Consider this your assignment. The call came in upstairs.”
“That’s a little odd. Usually …”
The sergeant cut him off. “Usually there was no sergeant here. Usually hotshots like you and Tony Mazzetti did whatever you wanted to. Now, as of this minute, you better get out and find this girl.” She smiled, but somehow she’d gone from beautiful to scary. “Any questions?”
Stallings didn’t have one.
Nine
John Stallings, like any seasoned cop, knew his strengths and weaknesses. He could read people and interview well. Some would say there was a large element of fear that made people talk to him, but he got results. He also was willing to work ungodly hours to find a missing kid or solve a homicide. His greatest weakness was not using all the available sources of information from computer databases and intelligence files. Patty understood the physics of such work and seemed to like it, so he let her run with it.