The Perfect Death

by James Andrus

  She leaned in close to her father and said, “Why don’t you go sit down near Mom?”

  Her father turned and looked at her, a small smile spreading across his face. “I wish she wanted me to, but I like sitting here with you.”

  “Will you ever be sitting next to her again?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Me too.”

  Lauren decided to relax and enjoy the time she had with her family. She’d have plenty of time to worry about things later. She always did. This was a special day, she could feel it.

  But she still missed Jeanie.

  John Stallings felt a deep sense of satisfaction sitting at the table with most of his family. The tension he felt with Maria didn’t interfere with his enjoyment of having his mother, father, and both of his kids devour a gigantic vegetable pizza. He paid special attention to his father since his latest episode. He noticed the old man drank glass after glass of water and seemed to be tuned in at the moment, keeping everyone straight in his mind.

  He also appreciated the broad smile on his mother’s face. She had raised him and his sister, Helen, almost as a single mother but didn’t get the credit. Between his long hours in the Navy yard at Mayport and his long nights drinking with his buddies, Stallings’s father had not been the ideal husband. But at this moment his mother didn’t seem to hold any grudges and neither would he.

  James Stallings set down his tall glass of water and made some joke that caused Charlie to snort with laughter. Lauren started to cackle as well. She said, “I guess Dad didn’t inherit a sense of humor from you.”

  The whole table erupted at that comment. Stallings’s father pounded the tabletop and said, “Your voice is very similar to Jeanie’s.”

  That brought an immediate dead silence to their end of the restaurant.

  Stallings said, “How do you know what she sounded like?”

  “I remember. Even if she only visited me the two times.”

  “I never brought her to see you. You and I didn’t speak during her entire life with us.”

  “She came on her own. Two different times, about a week apart. Must’ve been a little over two years ago.”

  Now everyone was staring at the elder Stallings. The old man seemed confused by the attention. Then he said, “The first time she came she was Jeanie, the second time she came as Kelly.”

  “Who?”

  “Kelly.”

  “Who’s Kelly?”

  The old man looked from Stallings to the kids and now seemed confused. “I don’t know anyone named Kelly. Why, is she supposed to meet us?”

  Stallings didn’t know what to do. His instinct was to grill the old man, but he didn’t want to do it in front of the kids. But somewhere inside of him, he had the sense that his father was not confused or making up the story. Had he, in fact, had contact with Jeanie? Finally Stallings said, “Why haven’t you ever said anything about seeing Jeanie?”

  The old man hesitated and scratched the short gray bristle on the top of his head “She promised to come back and visit me if I didn’t say anything. She was scared and so was I. The whole thing slipped my mind. That happens to me sometimes. I forget a lot of things. You may not notice it yet, but I get confused easily.”

  Stallings’s mother patted his father on the back and gave him a hug from behind. Lauren reached across the table and grasped his hand.

  Then James Stallings wept silently.

  Patty Levine didn’t think of her quiet Sunday afternoon as sulking; she considered it recharging. But as she sprawled on her couch, watching an old, sappy Meg Ryan movie, she had to admit it felt like sulking. The more accurate word might be depressed. She couldn’t point to anything in her life that would depress her except the total failure she had suffered kicking her prescription-drug habit.

  The sergeant had made it clear she wanted a rested crew ready to kick ass on Monday morning, so Patty was confident she wouldn’t be called out today. That was how she justified swallowing a Xanax earlier and now used a couple of painkillers to ease the throbbing in her lower back. She felt some guilt about the painkillers because she’d thought she’d gotten past them and could make it without the subtle fog the long, light blue pills put her in.

  The long hours of the afternoon gave Patty a chance to contemplate her entire life. She wondered if she was like an alcoholic who, after an absence of drinking, started right back where she was when she had stopped.

  Despite the guilt about using again, she considered the advantages of using a prescription antidepressant to pull her out of her funk. Maybe she needed someone to talk to. Despite her feelings about John Stallings or even Tony Mazzetti, she didn’t want to put them in an awkward position of knowing she had a problem and not telling a supervisor. If something happened and it was discovered that they had known she had a problem, they could face discipline as well.

  No, she’d been too good at keeping her issues private for too long. There was no reason to yak about them now. Her issues would be hard for a man to understand. They might treat her like one of the boys, but she wasn’t. Some cops just looked at her like a cute chick who had lucked into a job or slept her way into the detective bureau. That was another reason why she didn’t really want to go public with her relationship with Tony.

  She’d continue to keep it quiet a while longer. She had to.

  TWENTY-NINE

  John Stallings intended to attack the day. He’d appreciated the rare Sunday afternoon with his family. His father’s odd comment about Jeanie haunted him. That’s why he was glad he was taking the old man to the doctor this afternoon.

  This morning was about work. It was about finding the asshole who’d killed the girl found in the shallow grave at Pine Forest Park. He was learning all he could about what might happen to a runaway in Jacksonville who just disappeared one day. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl found buried in the park. He wanted the man responsible. It burned in him like the start of an ulcer. Which Stallings realized really could be the source of the feeling.

  Tony Mazzetti was welcome to make a case, to talk to the media, and to advance his career, but Stallings was going to catch the killer. He didn’t care who took the credit. He just wanted this creep.

  He couldn’t help but consider Jeanie when he thought about Leah Tischler. Stop at the wrong bus stop, at the wrong time, and God only knew what could happen. A life could be gone like a wisp of smoke. He knew from experience that some of the killers who roamed the streets felt about as much from taking a life as they did from blowing out a candle. He hated trying to think like them, but sometimes it was the only way to catch them. That’s all Stallings wanted to do: stop assholes like the one who had killed the girl found at the park and the nursing student at the bus stop.

  He wanted to punish the killer not just for the girl in the park or Kathy Mizell, but for all the Jeanies in the world too.

  Tony Mazzetti was waiting at the parole and probation office in downtown Jacksonville when the portly parole officer strolled in with a bag of doughnuts in one hand and a giant container of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in the other.

  Mazzetti sprang from the uncomfortable plastic chair he’d been sitting in for thirty minutes while he waited. “Tom Laider?”

  “Who’s askin’?”

  Mazzetti had his ID out and open in a flash. “JSO. I need to talk to you right now.”

  Mazzetti nodded to Sparky Taylor, who calmly closed his Popular Mechanics magazine and followed.

  The heavyset parole officer led them down a series of narrow hallways. One was so tight the fat man’s sides brushed booth walls. Mazzetti worried that Sparky might be having the same problem behind him so he was careful not to turn around.

  Once they were sitting in the miniscule, windowless office with drab, blank walls and the parole officer had wedged himself behind the desk, he said, “What can I do for JSO this morning?

  “We need to talk to Daniel Byrd.”

  “So do I.”

  “What’s that mean?
”

  The fat man sighed and rubbed his face like it was 3:30 in the afternoon instead of nine o’clock in the morning. “It means I haven’t seen Mr. Byrd in two months. He’s never at the construction site where he tells me he’ll be. He switches apartments like most people switch underwear and misses every appointment I’ve ever set for him in this office.”

  Mazzetti stared at the ineffective parole officer. “Why don’t you violate him? Send his ass back to prison.”

  The parole officer shook his head. “Do you have any idea how much paperwork that’d be? Besides, you’ve seen the state budget. We can’t afford to house inmates anymore. The only way anyone gets violated is if they commit a new, violent felony.”

  “What if I told you he was a suspect in a murder?”

  “I’d say call me after you convict him.” The fat officer munched happily on an iced chocolate doughnut, then washed it down with a huge swallow of coffee. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m very busy.”

  “Busy! What do you have to do to keep busy? You’re not seeing anyone, not violating anyone, you don’t even get in the goddamn office until after nine o’clock. How can you be busy?”

  The parole officer didn’t bother to acknowledge Mazzetti’s outrage.

  Mazzetti looked at the parole officer, at his partner, and finally at the folder containing Daniel Byrd’s photograph and criminal history. He considered the few options he had to track the construction worker down. As much as he hated to admit it, this sounded like a job that Stallings could handle better than anyone else.

  Lexie Hanover liked her independence. She worked evenings at Sal’s Smoothie Shack to earn extra money, but she really enjoyed working at a vet’s office during the day. The poor veterinarian was so busy in his personal life and made so little money at his beachside office that he relinquished much of the regular duties to Lexie. That’s why she knew that one day she’d make a great veterinarian herself. She had two more courses at a community college before she could transfer to the University of Florida and start the real competition for the limited number of spots in their veterinary medicine program. She knew she could do it.

  Lexie rushed around her small apartment because she liked to make a good impression on people when they stepped inside. She recognized the building wasn’t new and didn’t look historical or anything like that. Not in an industrial section west of the interstate. Her apartment was tiny and therefore easy to keep clean, and her two cats didn’t leave much of a mess.

  She’d been thinking about the guy she’d met Friday night. He had been very interested in her life, asking her all about her hobbies and family. Eventually he had gotten her talking about her hygiene, drinking habits, and the fact that she had never smoked a cigarette in her whole life. He had really liked that and had complimented her about her smile instead of her body the way most guys did. He had also been interested in her dreams and hopes and had told her that being a veterinarian was something noble to aspire to. He’d said he really admired people in the medical field and that his most recent girlfriend had worked at a dentist’s office. Lexie had a feeling that he was truly interested in her and she liked the way he told her she had the face of an angel. He seemed sweet and deeper than the average jerk who rolled out of Jacksonville Landing half drunk and completely immature. He had already talked philosophy with her and told her how he often contemplated eternity. Most guys talk about themselves. She definitely liked this change.

  Stallings had already told Mazzetti and Sergeant Zuni he was splitting his day. He’d run down several leads in the morning and wasn’t looking forward to the afternoon. He was taking his father to the doctor for a real evaluation of his memory issues. He intended to come back and work in the early evening before he navigated to his little house and collapsed on the lumpy bed.

  Right now he had a few minutes to take a risk and swing by his old house. He wanted to see Maria; something inside him said he needed to hear her voice. Even if all the voice did was tell him to get lost and leave her alone.

  As he knocked on the front door he realized his attitude was dangerously close to a stalker’s. His stomach tightened and he considered chanting his mantra from work, Is today the day that changes my life? Standing at the door he felt somewhat like he did before executing a search warrant, nervous and apprehensive. The TV cops always looked cool, but they had never been shot at with live ammo.

  The door opened a few inches and Maria’s beautiful face appeared. After a moment’s hesitation, she opened the door wide and said in a pleasant voice, “This is a surprise. Is everything all right?”

  “I needed to talk to you for a few minutes.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to tell her he had wanted to hear her voice.

  “I told you that we don’t need to explain ourselves to each other. You can have coffee with whoever you want to.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Although now that she mentioned it, he still wanted to clear that up. “I wanted to talk about what my dad said yesterday about seeing Jeanie.”

  Maria’s bottom left lip quivered, and she burst into tears.

  THIRTY

  Buddy parked his van more than three blocks from Lexie’s rat-hole apartment just west of I-95 in an odd neighborhood of apartment buildings and industrial warehouses. He knew the whole city pretty well and there was an antique hardware store he occasionally used for brackets and frames on the street. If for some reason someone asked why his van was parked in the area he could legitimately say he was going by the hardware store. The only thing that bothered him was walking three blocks in the heat of Jacksonville.

  Lexie was an excellent candidate for eternity. Since their lunch, he’d been on fire with the idea of placing her last breath in the jar he’d finished the night before. He’d made this one especially for Lexie and her smooth, white skin. The glass he had blown had a light, creamy texture and was unlike anything he’d ever placed in his work of art. It fit Lexie perfectly. The jar was wrapped in tissue paper inside a Publix grocery store plastic bag along with a bouquet of flowers. He knew she’d immediately assume the decorative jar was some kind of vase for the flowers. And that’s what he wanted her to think. He wanted her to stay calm right up until the very end. He remembered hearing a farmer say at career day in sixth grade that he never let his pigs get frightened before they were slaughtered because it ruined the meat. Buddy had had all kinds of questions he wanted to ask before the teacher rushed the bewildered farmer out of the room. All the man had done was tell the truth. He had been honest enough to say that if the pigs didn’t know they were about to be shot in the back of the head it was a good thing. Buddy definitely saw the logic in that.

  He turned the corner and instinctively looked in every direction. It was the middle of a workday and there was no one wandering the streets. Lexie had the day off from the animal hospital and didn’t have to work at Sal’s Smoothie Shack tonight. He had no pressing jobs to complete and felt like the stars had aligned to provide him with this chance to complete another section his work of art. He loved that Lexie cared so much about animals. Along with her angelic face, it was the quality he’d latched onto. He wouldn’t tell her anything about his experiments with his mother’s cats.

  John Stallings sat on the couch of his former residence with his arm around his wife’s shoulder. Her sobbing had decreased to a sniffle. She turned to face Stallings, cleared her throat, and said, “I’m sorry I lost it. I just miss her so much. When your dad said he’d seen her, he got me thinking about so many things.”

  Stallings didn’t say anything as he gave her a squeeze with his arm.

  “And this week is the anniversary of her disappearance.”

  He said, “I know.”

  “It must be hard on you too. I never seem to remember that until it’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late.”

  Maria didn’t answer his comment as she stood, crossed the room, and snatched a tissue from a decorative wicker dispenser. She tri
ed to remain ladylike wiping her tears, but finally gave up and blew her nose like a lumberjack.

  Fifteen minutes later he found himself at the kitchen table eating a ham sandwich and chatting quietly with Maria. It was the first time in months he’d done anything like this. He missed the domestic life. The last few years he’d spent many lunch hours right at this table, doing the same thing he was doing now. It was his time in homicide that had screwed everything up. There were fewer lunch hours, then fewer dinner breaks. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to come home to three cheerful, screaming kids. He could remember holding an infant Charlie like a receiver with a football while Lauren and Jeanie vied for his attention. Jeanie, with her light hair and a smile that was infectious. Customers at restaurants would often comment about her brilliant and charming smile.

  After several awkward silences, Stallings finally worked up the nerve to say to Maria, “I really wanted to talk to you about the woman I had coffee with last Friday.”

  “John, I told you, you’re free to do as you wish. We don’t owe each other any explanations at all.”

  “Does that mean we’re through?”

  She took a moment to answer, making him feel like he was waiting to hear the results of a biopsy.