James Andrus - The Perfect Scream

“I’m sorry. Guess I’m just a little distracted.”

Ken was about to continue when he looked toward the river and said, “You know that cop down there?”

Patty glanced over the railing to see a young uniformed officer talking to two drunken men. Both were dressed like construction workers and both were larger than the cop. Patty waited until the patrolman turned and she could see him in profile. He had a round face with a wide flat nose, and she had never seen him before.

She looked at Ken and shook her head, saying, “He doesn’t look familiar. We have so many patrolman and detectives that I don’t always recognize them, especially down here in the southern part of the county.”

Ken made an odd face and said, “I just assumed every cop working for the same department would know each other.”

“It’s a big agency.”

Patty glanced back over the railing and saw that the cop was now only speaking to one of the men. The other had walked away. But the body language told Patty that the encounter was escalating from a simple discussion to something more serious. The cop wrapped his hand around the larger man’s upper arm in an attempt to guide him away from the water. The man jerked his arm away from the cop and took a step back. Without hesitation the cop did a classic fake with one hand, then drove his knee into the man’s opposite leg. Patty had used the move a dozen times herself. The man dropped to his knees and the cop had him cuffed with no more scuffle.

Ken scooted back his chair and said, “Did you see that? That cop just kicked that guy for no reason.”

Patty was surprised by her boyfriend’s outrage. Had he not seen the same thing? Patty said, “I thought he handled it very well. The guy jerked his arm away from him when the cop tried to direct him where to go. The poor patrolman can’t wait for this guy to punch him in the face and run away. He was obviously trying to make an arrest.”

“It looked to me like he wanted to kick that guy.”

“What would you have the cop do, Ken? You can’t just let people decide when they’re going to be arrested.”

“You don’t have to act like a Nazi either.”

“Nazi! Now you’re just talking from ignorance.”

“How can you say I’m ignorant? I’m a doctor, for Christ’s sake.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a podiatrist.”

Lynn sat at the bar of the Wildside. For most of the year it was a large but tired sports bar, but during spring break you couldn’t get into the giant bar that had big-screen TVs tacked all across the walls. The owner had gotten smart in the last few years and closed off half of the bar when things got slow. It saved on electricity and the place didn’t look empty all the time. She’d been carefully watching a table where five members of the Tau Upsilon fraternity were sharing two pitchers of beer and watching a Miami Heat and Orlando Magic basketball game. She was having a hard time putting a name to a face and wanted to make sure she made no mistake.

That made her think about her uncomfortable and painful conversation with one of the fraternity members about two years ago. She had run into the young man by accident and he’d already been drinking, but once she’d sat down and really listened to what he had to say, it had changed her profoundly. He’d explained in great detail the horrific event and who had been involved and how it had gotten out of control.

The entire conversation had left her considering the options still available. Should she go to the police? The young man had said no one would talk, including him. Should she tell her parents? They would be devastated and there was nothing they could do about it. The problem ate at her for days until she saw a news story about a University of North Florida student who had committed suicide on campus by hanging himself in a communal bathroom. The young man who had committed suicide was the same young man who had explained to her the details and secrets that were tearing the fraternity apart.

As she watched fellow students come on camera and claim surprise while reciting an almost scripted version of what a great kid he was, Lynn realized something odd. She felt a hint of happiness. Maybe relief was a better word. Whatever the case, the young man’s death had eased her misery. And ultimately set her on the path she now followed.

Tonight she found herself sitting in a bar she didn’t like, watching young men she didn’t want to watch and trying to figure out which one was Bobby Hollis. She also looked around the room, noticing some surveillance cameras in the corners of the ceiling. This would not be a good place to meet her next victim. Too easy to identify her. She’d seen a news story earlier in the year about a bartender here at the Wildside who had killed a couple of spring breakers after meeting them here in the bar. It was creepy to think she could buy a drink from a bartender who had much more in mind. Then she considered her own situation and mission and wondered how different she was from the sinister bartender.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and heard a man’s voice say, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lynn turned quickly at the bar and was shocked to see Leon smiling as he sat on the stool next to her.

Stallings had Brother Ellis by the collar of his nice, button-down shirt. He purposely held the shirt tightly in both hands to keep himself occupied. Stallings was afraid if he released the man’s collar, one of his fists would make contact with the pastor’s face. He had no control. More than one suspect had been knocked unconscious without Stallings’s knowledge of his own actions. A dark and ugly rage boiled up inside him. Something he hadn’t felt since the days following Jeanie’s disappearance. The basis of many of his anger issues. Right now he couldn’t think of any coping mechanisms the counseling psychologist had given him after he and the family had visited to help them understand what had happened to Jeanie. He remembered one of the things he was supposed to do was count, but he couldn’t remember if it was to count forward or backwards. All he saw was red and the terrified face of the most popular pastor in Jacksonville.

Brother Ellis stammered, “John, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” He was breathing so hard it was difficult to understand him.

Stallings said, “You’re right. You misunderstood how much bullshit I would put up with. I should’ve done this after your cheap shot at the fellowship hall putting my partner between Maria and me.”

“What?”

Stallings wasn’t interested in a debate. It was time to feel bone and teeth disintegrate behind the force of his knuckles. He gave the pastor a slight shove as he released his grip, but it was only to put him at the optimal range for a devastating right cross.

Brother Ellis took two hard steps back and didn’t even raise his hands. He looked relieved that he had been released and had no idea what was about to follow.

Lynn didn’t mean to sound quite so annoyed when she barked at Leon, “What’re you doing here? Are you following me?”

The lean, older man nodded his head and said, “A little bit.”

“Why?”

“I already told you that I could help you with whatever you’re doing.”

“You don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t care. I just miss the excitement. I miss having something important to do. I don’t mind washing a few cars at Thomas Brothers and I don’t want to go back to prison, but if I don’t do something a little different once in a while I’ll go crazy.” He placed his hand on Lynn’s arm and said, “Please let me help you if for no other reason than to show respect for your father.”

Lynn thought about his offer for a moment. “There is something I could use some help on.”