Stallings sipped his coffee and let J.L. talk about herself for a few minutes before he focused her on what he really wanted to know.
“You said you had some information on Zach Halston.”
“You’re not going to arrest him, are you?”
“I don’t arrest minor pot dealers. Almost no one does. He’s a missing person, his parents are worried, and I have a few questions for him. That’s it.”
“That’s what I thought. And I believe you; otherwise I wouldn’t be saying anything. The last thing you want to happen in this business is be labeled a snitch.”
Stallings just gave her a scowl, hoping to prod her into divulging the information.
J.L. said, “I heard some talk. A few people are not happy with Zach. He’s unreliable and owes some money, but it’s nothing too serious. The pot-dealing community is not known for its violence. He’s just laying low down in St. Augustine.”
“Can you be more specific? The tourists alone could keep me from searching all of St. Augustine for one missing college kid.”
J.L. let loose with a dazzling smile. “He hangs out at a bar off King Street named the Ponce de Leon Pub. It’s supposed to be a small, dingy place with good food and a couple of decent TVs. My source thinks he’s staying at a motel close by. He eats lunch at the pub every day.”
Stallings wrote the name of the pub in his notepad as he gazed out the window and considered his next move. He knew he’d have to go down to St. Augustine alone. He couldn’t have anyone around when he found Zach because his first question was going to be about the photograph of Jeanie.
J.L. cleared her throat to get his attention and when he looked back she said, “I’m not used to men forgetting I’m close by.”
“I bet you’re not.” He laid a twenty on the table and said, “You’re probably not used to men leaving you in a restaurant either, but I’m afraid I have to go. I really appreciate the information you gave me.”
J. L. Winter lifted her left eyebrow and said, “Oh yeah? How much do you appreciate it?”
Stallings looked at her and said, “Enough to hope you become a teacher really soon.”
THIRTY-SIX
Patty Levine had to admit she enjoyed being alone with Tony Mazzetti even if it was in the conference room of the D-bureau. Everyone had left the informal meeting and gone about their day, but she enjoyed the few moments with her ex-boyfriend, purposely scooting her chair closer to his so he’d get a hint of her perfume. She was feeling good about herself because she had gone a day and a night without any prescription drugs. It seemed like that was becoming a more common occurrence. The problem was she felt loopy from the lack of sleep.
Patty said, “The key to this thing is in the victims.”
“Still officially accidents.”
“Whatever. You know as well as I do how much work we have to prove it either way. I don’t care about the political considerations command staff has about labeling Jacksonville the home of another serial killer. We’ve got to figure this out.”
Mazzetti reluctantly nodded his head. “I hate talking to the families. Sparky and I will work on the leads we’ve developed and talk to the frat boys if you and Stallings talk to some of the families of the deceased.”
“John is down in the south end of the county for something today, but I’ll start on it by myself. I should have all of it done by tomorrow afternoon and we can see where we are then.”
Mazzetti smiled and said, “Thanks, Patty. You’re the best.”
For no reason Patty went with her urge and leaned across the short gap between them, placed her hand behind Tony’s neck, and laid a deep, meaningful kiss on him.
John Stallings took advantage of meeting J. L. Winter in the south end of the county and wasted no time making the short drive down to St. Johns County, then east into St. Augustine.
He liked the historic little town that gave the relatively newly settled state of Florida a link to the past that rivaled New England’s. St. Augustine was the oldest European settlement in the continental United States. Every public school student learned that it was settled in 1565 by a Spanish admiral named Menendez. Most people liked the fairy tale of Ponce de Leon searching for the fountain of youth. The story and man were referenced all over the city.
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.