The Perfect Death Page 9

  That’s when the girl started to cry, her tears quickly morphing into uncontrollable sobs as Patty yanked on the roll of paper towels sitting on the desk behind her and waited patiently as the girl dabbed her eyes and blew her nose with a deafening honk.

  Patty knew that meant the girl didn’t know where Leah had gone, but she waited for an answer anyway.

  Finally, Tonya looked up and said, “I haven’t heard from her since Friday afternoon when we said good-bye at school.”

  “Do you have any idea why Leah would run away?” She hoped it was a clue as well as a reason.

  Tonya looked down at the ground floor and wiped her eyes with the soggy paper towel.

  Stallings looked at Patty and shrugged his shoulders, obviously having no idea what to make of the sobbing girl.

  Patty placed a hand on the girl’s back and said, “Tonya, it’s very important we know everything you know. We’ll hold anything you tell us in the strictest of confidence. But we have to do everything we can to find Leah now.”

  After another few seconds the girl lifted her head and said, “I loved her and she loved me.”

  Patty took a moment to make sure she understood the simple comment. “Why would that make her want to run away?”

  The girl sniffled and said, “You think her dad wants to acknowledge a lesbian daughter when he intends to run for the county commission? That’s all he ever talks about. He’s a big-time lawyer with big-time contacts, and he can get anything he wants done in this county.”

  Patty listened to what the girl had to say, then moved to the seat next to Tonya and placed her hand on top of the girl’s hand. “Tonya, would you tell us if you’d seen Leah since she ran away?”

  Tonya stared directly into Patty’s eyes. “I swear to God I haven’t seen her.”

  “Any ideas where she might have gone?”

  Tonya paused, her eyes shifting between the detectives. “She has a friend in Tennessee or Kentucky.”

  “How do you know about the friend?”

  “We fought about her.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I never got it. I know they met through a music festival in Jacksonville. This other girl came down from Knoxville or Memphis and impressed Leah. She’s a college student and blond. That’s all I know.”

  Patty took some quick notes. This was worth following up if they had the time. She looked back at Tonya. “Anything else you can think of?”

  She sobbed and grabbed a gulp of air. “Please find her. I’m so worried I can’t do anything.”

  The lump in Patty’s throat gave her a hint of what John Stallings must feel every day.

  Tony Mazzetti had been hopping all day. Two interviews first thing in the morning, a quick meeting with the medical examiner, an interview on a midday news talk show about how hard it was to be a homicide detective in the Bold New City of the South. The reporter also asked him about what it was like growing up in New York but living in Jacksonville. Mazzetti worked hard not to use words like “redneck” and “dumb ass.”

  Now he was glancing over a few reports from the other detectives. He was particularly interested in anything Stallings and Patty had found out about the missing girl and the belt discovered around Kathy Mizell’s throat. Patty usually filled him in on stuff in an informal way, but he liked to be on top of things anyway. The fight in the D-bureau had thrown off everyone’s schedule. He’d hung around to make sure he wasn’t needed. There was nothing he could do to help the situation and he had plenty of leads to investigate.

  The phone on his desk rang and it took him a second just to determine which phone was ringing. In the era of cell phones, landline phones had become almost obsolete to most detectives. He picked it up, barking his name in the receiver as a means of greeting.

  A voice equally as gruff, said, “Tony, it’s me, Joey.”

  “Joey Big Balls?”

  “Yeah, I’m calling about our conversation from the other night.”

  “You got any names that popped out at you?”

  “Like you said, there are always a few weirdos around. I guess in your line of work that’s important information, but for me, as long as they can plumb a line or hang drywall halfway decent, I could give a shit less about what they do in their spare time.”

  “I know, I know. I’m not lookin’ to thin out your ranks, but this is a bad guy we’re looking for.”

  “That’s why I’m helping out, but you gotta keep this between you and me.”

  “Joey, do you really think I’d fuck you, a fellow Italian from up north? You’re good as gold.”

  “Were you full of shit growing up, or did it happen after you became a cop?”

  “I guess a little of both. What’ve you got for me?”

  There was hesitation on the line and Mazzetti could hear voices in the background so he didn’t push it and gave the big man a second until he could speak freely.

  Finally Joey Big Balls said, “I got five names I’m gonna give you, but that means you don’t come by and bother me anytime you feel like. Capice?”

  “Now we’re paisanos?”

  “Business associates, that’s it.” Joey went on to give him five names.

  Mazzetti said, “You got any identifiers on these guys?”

  “Like what?”

  “Descriptions would be nice.”

  “They look like construction workers. All of them. They could double as bikers on the weekends. White guys and all of them have raised red flags with us for something they said or done. And I don’t mean like stealin’ tools or punching someone in the head. I listened to what you said and gave you names of guys who act a little creepy when it comes to women or kids. You can do whatever you want with the names as long as no one ever knows I gave them to you.”

  As Mazzetti was about to thank Joey Big Balls, the line went dead. So much for friendship.

  It had taken almost an hour to pick up the flat sheets of tempered glass he had for a job next week. These weren’t even etched, but he didn’t care because they paid up front and he needed the money. He’d never worried much about money except when he had almost starved trying to make a living as a glassblower. But for the last ten years or so, he had lived very comfortably, even saved a little now and then. Now money and saving didn’t seem that important to him. He could afford to eat most meals out and appreciated having one less worry.

  He stopped at the Starbucks near Shands Jacksonville Medical Center to grab a cup of green tea, which he’d been told to drink on a daily basis. He waited in the short line until the barista greeted him with a big smile.

  “Don’t I usually see you on Mondays?”

  He smiled and nodded, mumbling, “The usual.”

  The barista produced the local Starbucks version of tea, and he shuffled to an open table in the rear of the store.

  Buddy worked on a crossword puzzle he’d downloaded from the New York Times site. The Jacksonville Times-Union was not known for complicated mind and word games. He enjoyed the few minutes he had to himself while he planned all the things he needed to complete in the next few days. Chiefly among them was finding a place suitable to deal with Donna’s sister, Cheryl. He’d blocked off a few hours this afternoon to see what he could do about that.

  He glanced at his watch as he filled in the final word in the puzzle. It was “corpulent” for “a fancy fat man.” He didn’t solve it all in one sitting, but he’d done it in under twenty minutes. He didn’t think that was too bad.

  From the corner of his eye he saw someone squeezing down a narrow part of the coffee shop to the table directly across from him, so he shifted in his seat. He casually let his gaze drift up and saw it was a nurse on her way into a shift at Shands. He did a double take when he saw the girl’s wide, beautiful features and light brown hair braided down the back. She may not have been the kind of girl who turned heads at a party or in the club, but to him she was everything he looked for in a woman. The fact that she was in the nursing profession enhanced her b
eauty twofold.

  She plopped down with a large latte and a pastry, flipping through the Times-Union to the crossword. She glanced over to him and saw his completed crossword, saying, “That’s not from the local paper, is it?”

  “New York Times. I downloaded it.”

  “That’s a great idea. I don’t know why I waste my time on this silly thing, but I do it every day.” She smiled and said, “You look familiar.”

  “I’m in here all the time and I’ll try to remember to bring in a crossword for you next time.”

  She reached across the narrow aisle and patted his hand and smiled. “That’s very nice of you.”

  He tried not to stare, but all he could think was how beautiful she was. A deep-down, personal beauty. Some would call it an eternal beauty.

  SIXTEEN

  Tony Mazzetti had to admit it would’ve taken much longer to go through the detective bureau analyst and run profiles on each of the names Joey Big Balls had given him. But Sparky Taylor had jumped right on it and now had a driver’s license photo, personal data sheet, and, for four of the five names, a criminal history.

  Mazzetti said, “Are you telling me four out of the five men at a construction site have criminal histories?”

  Sparky shook his head. “Statistically that would be quite improbable. The reason so many of these men have histories is their names were brought up specifically because you told your informant to look for potential violent criminals. Your informant wouldn’t give us the names of men he had no reason to suspect of a crime. Therefore, it’s not surprising four of them have a criminal past.”

  “Who are you, Spock?”

  “You can ridicule logic and reasoned thinking all you want, but the fact remains that not all construction workers have felony convictions. And while we’re on the subject, Spock, as portrayed by Leonard Nimoy, is an extraordinarily interesting and complex character, and his actions are based on a well-thought-out literary principle.”

  Mazzetti really couldn’t answer because he was actually afraid to engage his partner in any further conversation.

  It was later in the afternoon when Yvonne Zuni found herself standing in the doorway to her small office looking out over the squad bay. The entire detective bureau took up the better part of the second floor and had been called the Land That Time Forgot for as long as she’d been with the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office. Each detective had his or her own desk, no matter what shift they worked. In addition, there were a number of extra desks that were used when people were brought in to help on specific cases. There were four secretaries and four criminal intelligence analysts in the room at any given time, except for the evening and most of the midnight shift. That left a whole lot of potential suspects in the theft of the pills lost during the fight. And that’s what she had to keep reminding herself. It was not necessarily a theft, even if she could find no other rational explanation for what had happened to the melting pills.

  The use and abuse of, and trafficking in prescription pain medications had risen drastically over the past few years. When she’d first started in narcotics, the unit focused almost solely on cocaine and specifically crack, which had torn apart certain communities worse than anything else. She had noted a sharp rise in the use of heroin. But it was nothing compared to the industry being built around prescription narcotics on the streets. Even though the pills were controlled and supposedly tightly regulated, there was always a way around the system and she felt that drug companies had to be complicit in the wave of painkillers that had swept through the country. The idea they’d become so valuable someone would steal them directly from a police department was unsettling but not unbelievable.

  As she eyeballed the room and thought about her own detectives, Sergeant Zuni considered them in a different light. She wondered, How does Stall keep going at full speed all the time? Is Tony Mazzetti sore from all the weights he lifts? These were things she’d never considered. She hoped she wouldn’t start to look at someone who slept late in the morning as a potential drug user, but Ronald Bell had planted the idea in her head.

  She wanted IA to keep things as low-key as he had said they would and resolve the issue before rumors started to run rampant.

  As John Stallings and Patty Levine cut through downtown Jacksonville from the Thomas School on their way to the Tischler house near the beach, Patty closed her cell phone and said, “The housekeeper told me Mrs. Tischler won’t be home for another forty minutes. I think we should talk to her before the husband gets home.”

  “Should we try to meet her while she’s away from the house?”

  “I don’t want to scare her with a call, and this is something we should handle face-to-face.”

  Stallings nodded his agreement. His mind was whistling through the information they’d learned today, as well as a very cold phone conversation he’d had with Maria when he called to inquire about the kids. That made him think of a pleasant conversation he’d had with Liz Dubeck at her small hotel not far from where they were right now.

  Stallings said, “Let’s go by and see if the lady at the hotel remembered anything more about her brief conversation with Leah.”

  “You mean the pretty lady at the hotel near Davis Street?”

  “That’s exactly who I mean. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t give me any shit about it.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until tomorrow morning?”

  Patty smiled and said, “Done.”

  A few minutes later Stallings was looking into the dark eyes of Liz Dubeck while Patty politely waited in the car and made a few phone calls.

  Liz said, “Any luck on finding the girl?”

  He shook his head. “That’s why I’m here. See if you remembered anything.”

  “Nothing new, but I could ask around. People might be more inclined to talk to me than a big, scary cop.”

  “You think I’m scary?”

  “I don’t, but others might. I’ve gotten to know a lot of people in the neighborhood and can ask without raising any eyebrows.”

  “That’d be great. I’ll be on my cell.”

  Liz paused, smiled, and said, “Why don’t we discuss it over coffee? Maybe tomorrow morning.”

  He froze, surprised by the offer.

  “I’ll come over near the sheriff’s office. Is there someplace you like in particular?”

  He stared at her, unable to speak.

  Liz said, “How about Junior’s by the Mobis Tower? Everyone seems to like it and it’s far enough away from your office that we won’t run into anyone if that makes you more comfortable.”

  He slowly nodded.

  “Maybe you’ll regain your power of speech by then.”

  He nodded again and headed out to Patty in the car.

  It was late afternoon and he finally had the good luck to see Cheryl in the fancy new Chrysler 300 her mother had bought her. He’d stayed well back on the long ride west and north of the beach at Ponte Vedra toward Jacksonville. Even with no commercial lettering on his white van it was taller than most vehicles and stuck out in traffic. On the bright side, he sat up high and could see a good distance. He realized he was distracted thinking about meeting Mary tomorrow night at the cozy café not far from his apartment. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do but knew it was the perfect window because of her cruise. She had already told him how she was going to park in extended parking at the airport and catch the quick flight to Fort Lauderdale, where she’d board the cruise.

  It’d be at least four days before anyone even came close to realizing she was missing, and her friends might not even report it right away. If he played his cards right, he’d have one more piece of this work of art completed without any risk whatsoever.

  But now he was planning ahead. Planning something that might be satisfying, as well as necessary. If he had to be honest with himself, he was curious what it would feel like to plunge his razor-sharp knife into Cheryl’s heart. See how long she twitched at the end of the metal b
lade. Every time he thought about her snide comments, sneers, and generally smug demeanor, he got so mad he could feel his face flush. And that made him believe he’d enjoy sticking her like a marshmallow about to go over a campfire.

  He had no idea where Cheryl was going, but was surprised when she pulled over quickly into a large strip mall with a Home Depot at one end and a Sports Authority at the other. He eased into the parking lot and caught a glimpse of her walking near the Sports Authority. All he was really trying to accomplish today was to get an idea of where he could deal with her since he knew he couldn’t do it at her house or his apartment. Maybe his best bet was to follow her out of her parents’ development like he had today.

  He pulled the van into a spot where he could see her walk from her car toward Sports Authority. She was wearing jeans and a tight blouse showing off the big, fake boobs she was so proud of. Then, as she pushed through the front door, she stopped and looked back like she was checking to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t look directly back at the van, but her suspicious movements made him very uncomfortable.

  The sooner she was dead the better off he would be.

  SEVENTEEN

  Patty Levine and John Stallings waited in the car at the end of the long driveway to the Tischler house. As soon as Mrs. Tischler pulled in and parked her Jag, they were out of the car and meeting her at the front door.

  Just the sight of the two police officers approaching her made Mrs. Tischler gasp and start to cry.

  Patty knew Stallings had been through this and was amazed how quickly he got to her to say, “We don’t have any news, Mrs. Tischler. Just a few more questions.” He firmly grasped both of Mrs. Tischler’s arms until she looked at him and seemed to acknowledge his comment.

  Stallings said, “Do you understand me? We don’t have any information about Leah yet. I promise you we’re looking very hard.”