James Andrus - The Perfect Scream

Almost in the center of the city was Flagler College, which filled up an old Henry Flagler hotel and the area immediately around it. Stallings used to like the good, tiny Florida school until he learned Tony Mazzetti was a graduate.

Stallings had always enjoyed the historical Florida town. He’d brought the kids here on a number of occasions and still brought Lauren and Charlie whenever they had a chance. Charlie was fascinated by the Castillo de San Marcos. All of Stallings’s memories now were categorized by whether they’d occurred before or after Jeanie disappeared. He could remember every event so clearly based on if she was there or if not. The last time they were in St. Augustine together she was about thirteen. She’d pretended to be too cool for the tourist attractions but enjoyed walking the walls of San Marcos just as much as the rest of them. Stallings had a photograph of Maria looking off a rampart with the wind blowing her dark hair behind her. He needed to frame that photo and put it on his desk.

Driving down King Street he saw the Ponce de Leon Pub on the right next to Ponce de Leon Pawn and Gun and across the street from the Ponce de Leon Quick Stop. It was not the heart of downtown and there was almost no traffic. His instincts told him to take a few minutes and drive through the area. That would get him familiar with the streets and also give luck a chance to play a part if Zach Halston was walking down a sidewalk.

There was nothing unusual on the quiet weekday. He noticed a blue Suburban with dark-tinted windows roll past him and turn a block west of the pub. He patted the photograph on the seat next to him and looked down at Jeanie’s smiling face next to Zach. He felt like he was close to getting some answers.

Zach Halston considered himself mature for a twenty-one-year-old. He had managed a sophisticated business with the number of associates for more than two years. He’d managed two households for a year and a half. Zach had even stayed hidden in plain sight for almost three weeks. That’s why it was hard to admit he missed his family. It was fun to talk tough and act like a gangsta on the street. It was even satisfying to tell his dad he didn’t need any extra money and to skip the occasional holiday break to go on a cruise with his girlfriend of the moment, but it was no fun to sit in a small hotel room in a crappy town like St. Augustine with no one to talk to. He even missed his annoying little brother.

When he was his little brother’s age, Zach thought he would be playing baseball professionally by this time in his life, not hiding like a mole in a cave. He wanted to shudder at some of the decisions he’d made over the past few years. Having the money was nice but not worth what he’d gone through. God, what he would do if he could go back in time.

He realized he was forgetting all the bullshit his father had made him go through at home. Right now he missed that nice, middle-class house in Ormond Beach and his mom making him French toast or pancakes every morning. When he was fourteen, he’d started to skip church on Sundays and told his dad he needed to make money instead of wasting his time. As he got older he learned to make more and more money and thought that it would buy happiness. Looking around the dingy hotel room, he knew how wrong he’d been.

He had to get out and get something to eat.

Lynn was careful not to tell Leon exactly what she was doing. Even though he wanted to come with her, she’d been resolute. Besides, the loss of Dale on the loading dock had thrown the Thomas Brothers supply company into unexpected chaos. The redneck bully had apparently been the linchpin that made the operation run smoothly. No one had heard anything from him since the day the cops pepper sprayed him and dragged him away in cuffs. Mr. Thomas announced that Dale would not be returning to work and Lynn had read a short news story that said he was charged with dealing in cocaine and had faced a federal magistrate who set his bond at a hundred thousand dollars. She almost felt sorry for the big lug.

Leon imagined she was involved in some crazy drug dealer or robbery scheme. Some scam that only a guy who had spent a few years in prison could think up. He had no idea how much weirder the truth was.

The truth had bothered Lynn over the past week, but she was too close to stop now. Something had to ease the pain she felt. Drugs hadn’t done it. Neither had spending time with her family. She was sure this was the only way. She didn’t need to involve Leon in any part of it.

Leon had been a godsend in other ways. He signed out the Suburban from the fleet manager for her and gassed it up. He didn’t even ask where she was taking it. When she said she’d have the car back by midafternoon, Leon just nodded. Now she was getting used to driving the big SUV that felt like a semi tractor-trailer compared to her Nissan. She couldn’t help but notice the tiny damage still in the grille where she’d hit Alan Cole. The hospital had been very careful not to release much information when she called. All they would say was that he was still in serious condition. One afternoon about a week ago she was able to speak to a nurse who let it slip that he was still in a coma. She’d always asked for the same nurse and spent a few minutes just chatting with her.

Lynn liked quiet St. Augustine, which always seemed so peaceful to her. She had even considered Flagler College for her undergraduate work, but it was just a little too close to home. Leon had found out that Zach was staying near King Street and frequented several stores and bars in the area. Right now she planned to just drive around and see if she could discover where he might hang out. There was a sports bar called the Ponce de Leon Pub that looked like a nice place to have lunch and maybe run into Zach. She had carried the Buck knife with her since she hadn’t used it yet. The circumstances would have to be just right for her to risk that kind of attack.

Driving west on King Street, the only other car she noticed was a black Impala. Looking down through the tall Suburban, she clearly saw the driver. It took her a second, but she realized why he seemed familiar. She had seen him at Kyle Lee’s house in Winter Park. She was on the right track. But it looked like the police were too.

She might need a new plan.

Zach Halston walked down the two flights of rickety stairs, pausing to glance out the cracked window of the double doors. It was overcast and puddles from an earlier shower dotted the road. This place wasn’t much better than Jacksonville as far as a cheerful climate. An elderly man popped his head out of the apartment closest to the front door and stared silently at Zach. It was a little ritual the old man went through every time Zach left the building. He’d tried to be friendly and engage the old man in conversation, but he was always met with a disapproving glance and the door closing firmly after a quick inspection of who was coming or going from the building. Zach paid two hundred dollars a week to the super who lived in a detached building behind the apartment. The two hundred was in cash and Zach never had to give his name. He figured it was safer that way. He had no idea who might be looking for him, or if someone was watching the frat house, or tapping his parents’ phone line and as a result he’d been lying low for almost three weeks. He intended to stay that way.

Zach had run low on cash a couple of times and gone out to make some quick collections from people he trusted. He had enough to last another month or so; then he might have to either get back into business or hope any trouble had been smoothed over. When he’d first decided to flee Jacksonville, he had considered taking an extended cruise, but the travel agency said they would all require him to use his real name. This was one of the few places he’d found where no one cared if he had a name or not.