James Andrus - The Perfect Scream

Behind all of these boxes was a much smaller box, which had burned at the top and on one side. It looked like it could have been one of the origins of the flames. He remembered from the crime scene photographs very similar boxes like this on the floor near the bed. The fire had not been a raging inferno, more of a smoldering smoke event with a few open flames.

Sparky was about to leave the apartment when he kneeled down to inspect the small box more closely. The inside was filled with twisted-up newspaper. Exactly the way he would twist newspaper to start a fire more efficiently. He shook his head at the Atlanta cops’ attitude toward the deadly fire and reached into the box to pick up one of the twisted newspaper pages.

He opened up the newspaper and realized this was a link Tony Mazzetti might not want to hear about. The newspaper filling the box was the Jacksonville Times-Union .

John Stallings walked into the office at eight o’clock sharp. He didn’t feel fresh and ready to attack the day like he often did because he’d spent so much time running down leads on Jeanie, Zach Halston, and now some guy named “Gator.” For all his effort he could not say he was closer to finding any of them.

The squad bay was empty, but the lights were on and he could see someone in the conference room. When he poked his head in, Patty Levine and Sparky Taylor had three different easels with large charts and the long table was completely filled with reports and bits of information.

Stallings just stared at the two detectives speaking in short, cryptic sentences that caused one or the other to jump up and write something on one of the charts. Finally Patty looked up.

“Hey, John. What’s going on?”

“It really looks like I should be asking you the same question. What time did you get started on this?”

“Sparky came into the office around six-thirty last night and we shared the information we’d found. It made me call the Gainesville fraternity house we visited and get some more information. I also swung by the local Tau Upsilon house night before last and talked to Bobby Hollis again. This is everything we have so far.” She waved her hand across the three large handwritten charts.

Stallings shook his head and said, “I’m out of the loop for a day and a half and you guys look like you solved the case.”

Now Sparky turned and looked at Stallings. “Hardly solved. But now we have enough information to at least ask the right questions and look in the right direction.”

“Are you allowed to fill me in on what you found out?”

Patty said, “We’ve made a link to a fraternity brother who died in Atlanta, Paul Smiley. The one from Gainesville. Now we’re looking at everyone the fraternity brothers told us about and making a time line.”

“What does a time line do for us?”

Patty turned one of the easels toward Stallings and said, “The only event that all of the dead brothers had in common was a Halloween party held at the local fraternity house two years ago. Whatever other information we have, Sparky and I believe that this particular party plays a major role in the investigation.”

“You think that someone got pissed off at the party, is that what you’re saying?”

“Big-time.”

Sparky was quick to add, “We still have a lot of work to do.”

Lynn had been working diligently, itemizing the expenses related to the Thomas Brothers supply company’s fleet, which included twenty-six tractor-trailers, forty large step vans, forty-four cargo vans, and eleven vehicles listed as general use. Lynn always smiled at the way the oldest Thomas brother listed his Mercedes 450 SL as part of the fleet. As much money as the family had, they still wanted to beat the federal government out of a few bucks in taxes whenever they could.

She looked up from her computer out the window that faced the parking lot. In the far corner of her view she could just see a marked police car pull up to the loading dock. Curiosity got the best of her and she wandered from her office toward the main loading dock.

Before Lynn had even left the hallway she could hear shouting, then saw two men arguing with Dale on the very edge of the wide dock. The two men, dressed in jeans and casual shirts, were by no means small, but compared to Dale they looked like little kids. A tall, thin uniformed police officer stood behind the other two men.

The crowd of loading dock workers and drivers had backed away to the rear wall so Lynn eased up next to the first driver she knew by name and said, “What’s going on?”

The older man shrugged and said, “Two fellas there are from the DEA and tried to handle things quietly with Dale. You know how stubborn he can be.”

“Handle what things?” Then Lynn heard Dale yell, “I told you dipshits that if you don’t gotta warrant, I ain’t sayin’ shit. I know my goddamn rights.” That’s when things took an ugly turn. Dale emphasized his point by shoving one of the smaller men in the chest. The man moved back a step, but that step was a long one because he slipped off the edge of the dock.

That’s when the uniformed cop and the other man took action.

It was always easier for John Stallings to find Peep Moran earlier in the morning before he really got moving around the city. For all of his faults, no one could say Peep was lazy. If he wasn’t sidetracked by his odd fetish or slowed by use of narcotics, the quirky young man from Detroit would’ve probably have been a tremendous success in the business world.

He was sitting out in the open on a park bench just north of the main downtown area. He showed no interest in fleeing for a change so Stallings took the bench next to him to find out what his informant had learned.

Peep didn’t even waste time with small talk. “No one knows the girl. I been all over Arlington and a couple of the areas I know up north and not one person had ever seen the girl before.”

“What about the boy, Zach Halston?”

“That little prick has been all over the city. A couple of the tougher dealers scared him until he focused on the college crowd. Someone told me he got into a beef there too. Another dealer was undercutting him to the college students, which caused a confrontation.”

“Can you be more specific?”

Peep shook his head. “I’m not even sure where I heard it. Just gossip on the street. You know how it goes.”

Stallings did know how word got out on the street. The shocking thing was how accurate it was most time. No one could ever cite one source, but everyone knew what was going on.

Stallings patted Peep’s shoulder. “That’s good, Peep. Got anything else for me?”

“The last anyone saw of Zach was he collected a little money someone owed him about four days ago.”

Now Stallings gripped the smaller man’s shoulder. “Four days ago? So he’s still alive?” Then Stallings asked, “Where was he?”

“South of the river, closer to the university.”

“Did you hear if anyone was after him or if he was in danger?”

“I haven’t heard about anyone being pissed off at him. You know how paranoid pot dealers can be.” Peep gave him a half smile showing Stall that his years on the street hadn’t robbed him of his sense of humor.

But Stallings hardly noticed him because right now all he could focus on was Zach Halston.

Lynn was amazed how quickly the two cops subdued a man so much larger than them. While one stepped away and pulled a can of pepper spray, the other one threw two quick punches into Dale’s massive gut and stepped to the side and kicked him in his upper leg. Dale listed to one side like he was going to fall over just as the tall, uniformed police officer let a stream of orange liquid loose in Dale’s face. At first there was no reaction as Dale went down on his injured leg. He gripped his thigh where he’d been kicked and started to yell at the man who had kicked him. Then it seemed like the pepper spray completely occupied his mind as he grabbed his face and started to babble incoherently.