by James Andrus
That was one of the reasons he had volunteered to track down any possible information on the death of a Tau Upsilon fraternity member who had graduated from the University of Florida the year before.
Sparky’s call had been taken by one of his buddies who had attended Georgia Tech with him, and he was now speaking to a sergeant in narcotics. Sparky said, “Why aren’t I speaking to someone in homicide?”
The gruff sergeant, who obviously wasn’t happy about wasting time talking to some detective in a hick town like Jacksonville, said, “Homicide doesn’t necessarily believe that death was anything but an accident. You know how they are about their clearance rates.”
“I do know that.”
“Anyway, the victim had two kilos of marijuana in his apartment and toxicology shows that he was stoned and had ketamine in his system. He was asphyxiated before he even realized there was a fire.”
“Do you have a big ketamine problem in Atlanta?”
“Kids use it if they can get it. A few veterinarians have been burglarized and lost some, but it’s not too bad.”
“Is there any evidence or anything left to go through on the death?”
“There are few things in boxes in evidence, but it’s just the bricks of marijuana and maybe some ID. I’m pretty sure the landlord never rented the apartment and there may be something over there. If you need more details or to come up here to look at the case I’ll have to hand you off to one of the homicide guys.”
Sparky scribbled a few notes while the sergeant read off the address and any other information he had on the case. Then the sergeant said, “Why would you guys be interested in something like this?”
“Because, like your police department, our homicide unit is more interested in clearance than in finding murderers. It’s my job to make sure we do both.”
The sergeant said, “You sound like a guy who could work for me any day of the week.”
Yvonne Zuni sat in her office signing off to close cases regarding accidental or justifiable homicides. She had been very impressed with the work of several of the new detectives who had been brought on board in the last year. The one case she pulled out of the pile was Connor Tate, the overdose victim from the University of North Florida. In an effort to keep the inquiry into the Tau Upsilon fraternity quiet, the sergeant had opted not to tell the detective on the Tate case what was going on. As a result, Detective Luis Martinez had done his usual thorough job and turned in the case file with everything necessary to close it out permanently.
Right now the only ones who knew the cases could be related were the four detectives working the case and her lieutenant, Rita Hester. She expected the lieutenant at any time and had been cleaning up the files to get her signature on the closings. The lieutenant had not spent much time with the crimes/persons squad in the last six months while she helped convert the evidence computer system as well as work on the re-accreditation of the sheriff’s office. On one hand it was a compliment to Sergeant Zuni and her abilities that no one interfered with how she ran the squad. On the other hand, it was a lot more work.
Sergeant Zuni recognized that Rita Hester had her eyes set on a position much higher up the ladder. Not only was she a good cop but she didn’t shy away from the political angle of her job either. The sergeant recognized that Lieutenant Hester and John Stallings had been partners on the road years before and remained very close friends. She didn’t think Stallings would ever go over her head to the lieutenant, but it was an important relationship to consider when dealing with politically sensitive cases.
She did recognize that although Stallings didn’t go over her head, occasionally the lieutenant would use Stallings for her own needs. The lieutenant would allow Stallings to conduct investigations outside the lines of the normal policy with the subtle understanding that if he got in trouble no one would be there to help him. Sergeant Zuni considered this taking advantage of Stallings’s natural tendency to fixate on a case and push to solve it no matter what the cost. That was why she would probably remain a sergeant for the rest of her career.
The lieutenant appeared at her door without a sound, like a genie. She gave a curt hello and immediately stepped around the desk to start signing off on the cases. After the lieutenant had completed the paperwork, as she stood up and stretched her large frame, she paused and reached down to pick up the photograph Sergeant Zuni had taken from John Stallings’s desk.
The lieutenant asked, “Where did you get this?”
“From John Stallings. That’s the missing fraternity boy he’s looking for.”
The lieutenant nodded but kept the photograph. She said, “Where’s Stallings now?”
“Canvassing businesses on University Boulevard where someone had seen the young man before he disappeared.”
The sergeant was surprised that all she got back from the lieutenant was a brief nod as she rushed out of the office with the photograph still in her hand.
It took John Stallings a moment to catch his breath, then say to the woman, “You know Kelly?”
The woman took her glasses off and allowed them to hang down around her neck by a rhinestone-studded strap. “Yes, she worked here for a couple of months a few years ago.”
Stallings tried to keep his voice calm and even. “Have you been in touch with her since she left?”
“Why, has she done something wrong?”
“No. She’s missing and her family is very, very concerned.”
The woman looked at the photograph again and said, “I think the boy looks familiar too. I know she dated someone briefly while she worked here. It might have been him. I only met him one time.”
“His name is Zach Halston.”
“Yeah, that’s him. There was something about him that Kelly didn’t like. But I haven’t talked to either of them since she quit.”
Stallings pulled out his notebook ready to grill this woman until he had as much information as he could get on his missing daughter and Zach Halston.
TWENTY—SIX
Tony Mazzetti felt like a genius. After listening to his partner explain the conversation he’d had with the cop in Atlanta, Mazzetti came up with an idea that would solve two problems at once.
He looked at Sparky and said, “Why don’t you take a ride up to Atlanta and look over the evidence yourself just to make sure everything’s in order?”
“I don’t know, Tony. That’s a long ride up there and a long ride back. I wonder if talking to the medical examiner might not be more efficient.”
“No, no, we’re cops and we talk to other cops. Take a look at what they have and maybe we can conclude that it really was an accident and we’re chasing shadows here.”
“The victim isn’t even from Jacksonville.”
“Right now he’s just an unlucky kid from Gainesville. But if we let people build this into a huge conspiracy they would consider him part of some kind of crazy cult or victim of a serial killer. He died in a fire that may or may not be suspicious. You look and see if there are any ties to Jacksonville or something that makes you think there’s more to it.”
Sparky Taylor nodded his head slowly, chewing his lip as he thought. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get the sergeant’s approval and spend the night up there. If this turns out to be more than bad luck it’s something we have to do anyway.”
Mazzetti patted him on the shoulder and said, “That’s the way to look at it, Sparky.”
Lynn was down in the parking lot of the Thomas Brothers supply company inspecting the grille of the Suburban she’d borrowed and used to run down Alan Cole. It had obviously been damaged and the grille repaired, and the entire truck had been cleaned thoroughly. When she had checked before she returned it, she’d only noticed a scrap of clothing, which she had pulled off the grille. Now she was concerned that Dale wasn’t quite the blowhard or moron he pretended to be.
A tall man with sandy brown hair was washing one of the main delivery trucks when he noticed her and set down his hose. He stood out because he was
the only non-Hispanic maintenance man and always seemed to be in a foul mood. Lynn didn’t know his name even though she’d seen him around the facility over the past three months.
Dale drove up in the golf cart he used to shuttle from the loading dock to the far reaches of the lot. Before he even slowed down, he yelled at the man, “Leon, get your ass back to work. This ain’t no charity.” Then the big man softened and looked at Patty as he stopped the cart. “Look at you. You’re as fine as the day is long.” He was about to say something when his cell phone chirped. He looked down at the message and punched the gas on the cart. “Gotta go, beautiful.” Without turning around, he called back to Leon, “Finish up and get to the loading dock.”
The man shook his head. He looked at Lynn, apparently noticing the disgust on her face. The man said, “Not much for manners, is he?”
“Does he always treat you like that?”
The man just shrugged and mumbled, “I’ve had worse.”
Lynn gave him a weak smile.
Then the man said, “I know who you are.” His North Florida drawl was thicker than most of the other workers’. And that was saying something.
Lynn said, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“I’ve been by your parents’ house and saw you there.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. How long ago were you there?”
“Since I just got out of prison three months ago it was probably about five years and three months since I’ve been over there.”
“You must have me mistaken for someone else.”
“Your daddy’s name is Bill? And your uncle is Peter?”
Lynn immediately understood it was a business issue and she just shook her head. “My dad is retired now.”
“Good for him. He’s a fair man who treats people right. I owe him a lot.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Leon.”
Lynn took his hand. “I’m Lynn.”
“Lynn, you ever need anything, you let me know.” His eyes cut toward the loading dock where Dale was harassing one of the workers. “It’s the least I could do for your dad. No one ever deserved a happy retirement more than him.”
Lynn couldn’t have agreed more and that was one of the reasons she’d undertaken her mission.
John Stallings had gained a lot of information from the woman at the vintage clothing store. He had several leads to follow up, including an address where Jeanie lived while she worked at the store. He was running the house through county records now to see who owned it and if they owned it three years ago when she worked at the store. He realized he was breathing quickly with excitement and took a moment to calm down. The rest of the squad bay was relatively quiet as he gathered up a notebook and several copies of the photo of Jeanie and Zach.
As he was about to leave, Sergeant Zuni stepped out of her office and said, “Stall, I’m glad you’re here. The lieutenant wants to see us in her office right away.”
“Really? Right now? I’m right in the middle of running down some leads.”
The sergeant folded her arms and gave him a look. She’d been around too long to put up with a detective ignoring a direct order from the unit’s lieutenant.
Ten minutes later, Stallings found himself sitting in the large, decorated office that housed the lieutenant for the entire detective bureau. He had no idea what Rita Hester needed to talk to them about, but he trusted his old partner and was always interested in her ideas.
Stallings sat quietly next to the sergeant for more than a minute before the lieutenant marched in from the outer office and eased into her chair before she said, “Detective Stallings, I’m glad you could find time in your schedule to chat with me.”
Stallings immediately realized something was wrong from the tone of her voice and the fact that she’d addressed him by his title. Over the years he had realized that was her way of saying this was business and nothing but business. His personal friendship and longtime association with her was not a factor in whatever she wanted to discuss.
Lieutenant Hester said, “How is your search for the missing fraternity brother going?”
Stallings looked at Sergeant Zuni, then realized he was supposed to answer. “I’m following all leads that come my way, but so far we don’t have anything concrete.”
The lieutenant said, “I’m aware of the preliminary investigation into the deaths of three other members of the Tau Upsilon fraternity. I’m going to have to see more before I hit the panic button and draw attention to the city and especially the university. That’s why I think it’s so important that we find Zach Halston. Do you agree with that?”
Of course Stallings agreed, but he wasn’t sure why the lieutenant had to ask the question. A rumble of acid rolled to his stomach as he considered a number of possibilities, but he was still unsure where this conversation was going.
The lieutenant retrieved something from her middle desk drawer and leaned forward as she slid it across her immaculate desk. Sergeant Zuni leaned forward to look at the photo, but Stallings knew what it was immediately.
The lieutenant said, “Does this look familiar?”
Sergeant Zuni immediately said, “That’s the fraternity brother Stallings is looking for.”
Lieutenant said, “Do you recognize the girl?”
The sergeant shook her head.
“Do you want to fill her in, Stall, or should I?”
Stallings didn’t say anything.
The lieutenant waited a few moments, then said, “The young lady in the photo is Detective Stallings’s missing daughter, Jeanie. I knew Jeanie most of her life and recognized her immediately. I am also thrilled to see that there is evidence she’s alive. What does not thrill me is that Detective Stallings would abandon his assigned duties to investigate something to do with his own daughter instead of handing it off to the detectives responsible. It bothers me that he would intentionally mislead you or me about his activities or intentions.” Her voice rose ever so slightly with each sentence. “It bothers me that he would put the mission of your squad at risk for his own personal investigation. And it bothers me”—she looked directly at Stallings—“that you don’t think enough of me to tell me what’s going on.”
Stallings had no answer for any of her rational and legitimate concerns.
It was obvious Sergeant Zuni had been stunned into silence.
The lieutenant said, “As of this moment, Detective Stallings is no longer working on this missing persons case. I am getting tremendous pressure from above to find out what happened to Zach Halston. It would’ve been nice to have one of my senior detectives on that. But you are to stand down. I don’t care what you do. You can organize the pencils on your desk. But you will not be working this case.” She leveled her dark, intense eyes at Stallings. “Is this clearly understood?”
All Stallings could do was nod.
TWENTY-SEVEN
John Stallings sat on a picnic table in the shadow of a giant condominium across the street from the PMB. The security guard at the condominium was a retired New York City cop and left the picnic table accessible to any JSO officer who needed to get away from the office for a few minutes. It was on a manicured lawn and looked out over the St. Johns River. This time of day it was usually a refuge for a worried detective having an argument with his girlfriend that he didn’t want his wife to find out about. Patty even joked that the picnic table should be called Tiger Woods Stadium.
But Stallings liked the peaceful retreat to consider cases and, in this instance, consider his career. He was angry, but not at Rita Hester. He could see from her point of view it was the only thing to do. She was a boss now and had to make decisions that were favorable to the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office, not just her friends. But that didn’t change the fact that he was a father with a missing daughter. Like most fathers in that position, he would do anything to find her.
He had considered resigning. Although quitting would give him some level of satisfaction it would not make the job of looking for Jeanie
any easier. Even if he got his private investigator’s license, that gave him no more access to police files than anyone else. It might also mean less help from the cops across the country who were doing what they could now. In general, cops viewed private investigators as a joke.
Stallings prided himself on being decisive, but at this moment he had no idea what to do. None. He knew that Zach Halston was the key not only to finding Jeanie but also to shedding light on the deaths of the other fraternity brothers. Stallings had some information from the owner of the store where Jeanie had worked, and he didn’t care what his status was with the sheriff’s office. He needed to follow up. He had an address of an apartment near the store and he intended to talk to the owner. But his overwhelming issue right now was how to clear his head and do the right thing.
He had no idea who to talk to. Maria wasn’t an option in her fragile state. He didn’t want to put Patty between him and administration. She had her own issues and someone needed to work the case with a clear head. His mom was focused on his father’s worsening Alzheimer’s and didn’t understand the politics of a large police department. Then he realized everyone he trusted in the world, everyone that he wanted to talk to about a personal problem, was female. Could that have something to do with the relationship he had with his father? Or were women just that much smarter than men?
Suddenly he realized who he could call. He dug his cell phone out of his front pocket and found the name that might be able to set him straight.
Patty could tell by the sergeant’s demeanor that this was not the time to ask questions. The sergeant simply said, “Stall has been reassigned. You’ll be working with Tony and Sparky. See if you can get a lead on a missing kid, Zach Halston. Otherwise, whatever Tony needs, help him out.”
