James Andrus - The Perfect Death

She’d been thinking about the guy she’d met Friday night. He had been very interested in her life, asking her all about her hobbies and family. Eventually he had gotten her talking about her hygiene, drinking habits, and the fact that she had never smoked a cigarette in her whole life. He had really liked that and had complimented her about her smile instead of her body the way most guys did. He had also been interested in her dreams and hopes and had told her that being a veterinarian was something noble to aspire to. He’d said he really admired people in the medical field and that his most recent girlfriend had worked at a dentist’s office. Lexie had a feeling that he was truly interested in her and she liked the way he told her she had the face of an angel. He seemed sweet and deeper than the average jerk who rolled out of Jacksonville Landing half drunk and completely immature. He had already talked philosophy with her and told her how he often contemplated eternity. Most guys talk about themselves. She definitely liked this change.

Stallings had already told Mazzetti and Sergeant Zuni he was splitting his day. He’d run down several leads in the morning and wasn’t looking forward to the afternoon. He was taking his father to the doctor for a real evaluation of his memory issues. He intended to come back and work in the early evening before he navigated to his little house and collapsed on the lumpy bed.

Right now he had a few minutes to take a risk and swing by his old house. He wanted to see Maria; something inside him said he needed to hear her voice. Even if all the voice did was tell him to get lost and leave her alone.

As he knocked on the front door he realized his attitude was dangerously close to a stalker’s. His stomach tightened and he considered chanting his mantra from work, Is today the day that changes my life? Standing at the door he felt somewhat like he did before executing a search warrant, nervous and apprehensive. The TV cops always looked cool, but they had never been shot at with live ammo.

The door opened a few inches and Maria’s beautiful face appeared. After a moment’s hesitation, she opened the door wide and said in a pleasant voice, “This is a surprise. Is everything all right?”

“I needed to talk to you for a few minutes.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to tell her he had wanted to hear her voice.

“I told you that we don’t need to explain ourselves to each other. You can have coffee with whoever you want to.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Although now that she mentioned it, he still wanted to clear that up. “I wanted to talk about what my dad said yesterday about seeing Jeanie.”

Maria’s bottom left lip quivered, and she burst into tears.

Buddy parked his van more than three blocks from Lexie’s rat-hole apartment just west of I-95 in an odd neighborhood of apartment buildings and industrial warehouses. He knew the whole city pretty well and there was an antique hardware store he occasionally used for brackets and frames on the street. If for some reason someone asked why his van was parked in the area he could legitimately say he was going by the hardware store. The only thing that bothered him was walking three blocks in the heat of Jacksonville.

Lexie was an excellent candidate for eternity. Since their lunch, he’d been on fire with the idea of placing her last breath in the jar he’d finished the night before. He’d made this one especially for Lexie and her smooth, white skin. The glass he had blown had a light, creamy texture and was unlike anything he’d ever placed in his work of art. It fit Lexie perfectly. The jar was wrapped in tissue paper inside a Publix grocery store plastic bag along with a bouquet of flowers. He knew she’d immediately assume the decorative jar was some kind of vase for the flowers. And that’s what he wanted her to think. He wanted her to stay calm right up until the very end. He remembered hearing a farmer say at career day in sixth grade that he never let his pigs get frightened before they were slaughtered because it ruined the meat. Buddy had had all kinds of questions he wanted to ask before the teacher rushed the bewildered farmer out of the room. All the man had done was tell the truth. He had been honest enough to say that if the pigs didn’t know they were about to be shot in the back of the head it was a good thing. Buddy definitely saw the logic in that.

He turned the corner and instinctively looked in every direction. It was the middle of a workday and there was no one wandering the streets. Lexie had the day off from the animal hospital and didn’t have to work at Sal’s Smoothie Shack tonight. He had no pressing jobs to complete and felt like the stars had aligned to provide him with this chance to complete another section his work of art. He loved that Lexie cared so much about animals. Along with her angelic face, it was the quality he’d latched onto. He wouldn’t tell her anything about his experiments with his mother’s cats.

John Stallings sat on the couch of his former residence with his arm around his wife’s shoulder. Her sobbing had decreased to a sniffle. She turned to face Stallings, cleared her throat, and said, “I’m sorry I lost it. I just miss her so much. When your dad said he’d seen her, he got me thinking about so many things.”

Stallings didn’t say anything as he gave her a squeeze with his arm.

“And this week is the anniversary of her disappearance.”

He said, “I know.”

“It must be hard on you too. I never seem to remember that until it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late.”

Maria didn’t answer his comment as she stood, crossed the room, and snatched a tissue from a decorative wicker dispenser. She tried to remain ladylike wiping her tears, but finally gave up and blew her nose like a lumberjack.

Fifteen minutes later he found himself at the kitchen table eating a ham sandwich and chatting quietly with Maria. It was the first time in months he’d done anything like this. He missed the domestic life. The last few years he’d spent many lunch hours right at this table, doing the same thing he was doing now. It was his time in homicide that had screwed everything up. There were fewer lunch hours, then fewer dinner breaks. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to come home to three cheerful, screaming kids. He could remember holding an infant Charlie like a receiver with a football while Lauren and Jeanie vied for his attention. Jeanie, with her light hair and a smile that was infectious. Customers at restaurants would often comment about her brilliant and charming smile.

After several awkward silences, Stallings finally worked up the nerve to say to Maria, “I really wanted to talk to you about the woman I had coffee with last Friday.”

“John, I told you, you’re free to do as you wish. We don’t owe each other any explanations at all.”

“Does that mean we’re through?”

She took a moment to answer, making him feel like he was waiting to hear the results of a biopsy.

Finally Maria shook her head and said, “No, not necessarily. But I need some more time.”

Since he had her in a talkative position, he said, “What were you doing downtown anyway?”

“It’s personal.”

Somehow Stallings hadn’t realized that simple phrase could sting so much.

Lexie was thrilled to have someone in her miniscule apartment, interested in her and her life. She’d never admit to her parents how sad she got or how shallow most of the men she met were. Buddy seemed perfectly content to listen to her chatter on about animals or classes or working at the stupid frozen-yogurt shack. She never had the feeling he was just interested in her for her body. And that was such a nice change here in Jacksonville. Maybe it was like that in every big city, but she had really only lived in Jacksonville her whole life.