She felt a presence in the doorway as what little sunlight filtered in was blocked by the giant form of one of the loading dock supervisors. Dale Moffitt never tucked in his gray uniform shirt, instead wearing it like a muumuu. It was hard for her to get a fix on his age, but he probably wasn’t much more than thirty, which was sad because he was obese, balding, and most troubling of all, obnoxious.
Dale smiled, revealing the stained teeth of a chewing tobacco user. “Hey there, good looking. What you got going on tonight?”
“Work.” She didn’t even look up, not wanting to encourage any extra conversation.
“Here or at the other place?”
“Dr. Ferrero’s office.”
“Shit, old man Thomas doesn’t pay you enough? You control the finances around this place, why don’t you just funnel some to yourself?” He gave a hearty chuckle to emphasize that it was just a joke.
“Just two nights a week. Never hurts to have extra cash coming in.”
“What’s a doctor need a bookkeeper for anyway?”
Lynn felt a headache coming on, and talking to this moron wouldn’t help things. She ignored him for a moment while she picked up her purse and rummaged through it for Tylenol.
Dale stepped closer and set down the paperwork he had in his hand; then he said, “Damn, girl. You gonna party tonight or what?”
When she gave him a puzzled look he reached across the desk and plucked a Baggie full of loose prescription pills out of her purse without her permission.
She snatched them back and tried to control herself so he wouldn’t get the idea they were that important. “These are all the loose pills I found at my house and my parent’s house. I’m going with my mom to see if any of the prescriptions need to be refilled.” She played with the bag, looking at the assortment of Ambien, homemade ecstasy and anything else she could buy on the street easily. Then she glared up at Dale to put an end to the conversation by saying, “If it’s any of your damn business anyway.”
John Stallings tried to hide his frustration about waiting until eleven o’clock to talk to this fucking slug. They were at the fraternity house of Tau Upsilon, where the brothers at the beach hotel had told them they could find Connor Tate. When Patty called Mr. Tate, he’d informed her that he rarely saw visitors before eleven. Stallings had assumed that it meant he had class, but now he realized the slacker stayed in bed until almost lunchtime. He controlled himself because, according to the other fraternity brothers, Conner and Zach Halston were very close.
Patty had dazzled the hungover, red-eyed moron with her brilliant smile and perky attitude. Even though she was twenty-seven, she looked a lot more like a college coed, only prettier. Connor responded by inviting them in and even turning on the overhead light and ceiling fan. Stallings would’ve thought he’d make an attempt to hide the bongs, knowing the cops were coming to talk to him. But that was not the case.
Stallings knew he had to play it cool in front of Patty and not mention what he was really interested in about Zach Halston. He let Patty start off by asking the general questions and getting a list of all the fraternity brothers and their contact information. She went through the standard questions about girlfriends and enemies but got the standard answers that he had no steady girlfriend and no known enemies. Connor and Zach were among a dozen seniors in the fraternity house and he knew Zach kept a separate apartment. The University of North Florida was too small to have on-campus fraternity houses so they had an arrangement with an apartment complex to have two-bedroom apartments and a separate building for the clubhouse. Zach’s parents paid for this apartment and visited quite often. That explained the crash pad.
Patty looked over the list of brothers and said, “You guys all stay in pretty close touch even after you graduate?”
“Try to.” His voice was scratchy and hoarse. “We have a couple of parties a year where the alumni come back and even brothers from other schools come over.”
Patty said, “Is there a chance Zach is hanging out with one of the alumni somewhere? Was he close to any of them?”
A cloud passed over Connor’s face as he looked down and said, “He and Alan Cole are good friends, but Alan was in a car accident yesterday down in Daytona and is in the hospital. I know Zach isn’t with him.”
Stallings looked over at Patty and gave a slight head nod. They’d worked together as partners enough for her to know his signals and he knew hers. She was getting frustrated with the diffident attitude of this stereotypical asshole fraternity boy. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m gonna take a look around. You boys can chat.”
Connor tried to stay cool and show he didn’t care if she poked around the apartment. Stallings gave him his best shot at a warm smile and eased over to the couch and sat down next to the young man. He purposely waited until Patty moved off to another room of the apartment. His heart was starting to race like he was on a search warrant instead of an interview. There was even a slight tremor in his hand as he opened his notepad and pulled out the photograph. He had to ask questions about the photograph before Patty walked back in the room because he couldn’t even tell her what he had found and what it might lead to.
He just held up the photo for a few seconds until dipshit got the idea to stare at it. Finally Stallings said, “Do you recognize her, Connor?”
The buff young man shrugged his muscular shoulders, ruffled his long, surfer hair, and studied the photo. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is. Do you recognize her?”
“Yeah, I recognize her, but I don’t remember much about her.” He turned to look at Stallings and said, “You know how it is, man. Zach scores well with the ladies. Know what I mean?”
The father in Stallings wanted to pop his kid’s head like a pimple. He felt a fury start to rise in him that scared him back to reality. He had not felt a murderous rage like that since the last time he caught a middle-aged man trying to meet a teenage girl. He took a moment to breathe deeply and clear his head. While he was working through the exercises the psychologist had given him to manage his anger, Connor said the one phrase that probably saved his life.
“I think I remember her now.”
“All right, Connor, what has penetrated that petrified brain of yours?”
The dazed student gave Stallings a sly look, signaling he liked the idea a cop could joke about his marijuana use. “She hung out with Zach about two years ago. Nice girl. I think she lived in some really cheap apartment close by. She didn’t have a car or anything. Her name was real common.”
“Jeanie?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” Stallings was careful to not let the kid pick up on the true nature of his questions.
“I’m sure her name wasn’t Jeanie, but I can’t remember what it was. I know we didn’t have a nickname for her like we do for a lot of the chicks that hang out here.” He scratched his head and mumbled, “Really cute, that’s all I remember.”
Just then Patty walked back into the room and Stallings shifted gears quickly and smoothly. “And you are certain no one has heard from Zach in the last week?”
“I’ll ask around again, but I haven’t heard anyone mention it. Should I be worried, dude?”
“We should all be worried until he’s home safe. You keep checking with the other brothers and get back to us.”
As they walked out of the apartment, Stallings wondered if he sobered this kid up whether he’d have a clearer memory of Jeanie. He might even remember something important about Zach.
SIX
It was late afternoon and John Stallings found himself once again roaming the streets of Jacksonville considering what he’d just discovered and if he should tell anyone else. As a cop and a resident, the streets were utterly familiar to him. He liked to call them the mean streets of Jacksonville, even though he knew some big-city people might scoff at the idea. But the South had an edgy toughness to it that no one truly understood. It wasn’t just number of firearms on the street compared to New York or Philadelphia; it was a multi-generational attitude that people just didn’t want to take any shit. Ironically, that was also one of the reasons people were generally more polite. To avoid confrontation.