She had no idea if it was night or day or how long she had been restrained in the little bed. The initial terror she’d felt was now more of a chronic fear. It must’ve been some psychological coping mechanism, because she would’ve gone crazy quickly the way she felt the first time she woke up in chains. The tiny room held no clues either. Just her bed, a lamp, and a small, hard plastic portable toilet he had slid under her twice a day. She didn’t even shudder at him wiping her after each use of the toilet. It was so clinical and nonsexual on his part, and she was so terrified about other things that she barely resisted the action anymore.
The truly scary thing was that she knew that he was the Bag Man. He hadn’t said it, and she hadn’t asked, but she knew whatever he had planned for her she would end up crammed in a suitcase. She knew she had to do something to get away. He would never just let her go.
As she considered possible courses of action, William unlocked the door and walked in holding a tray of food, including the protein shake he required her to drink every day.
William smiled and said, “Good morning, sunshine. Time for nourishment.”
This guy put a whole new meaning on the word “creepy.”
Patty Levine looked up from her desk as she was closing up files for the night. Things had returned to normal in the days after the shooting-as normal as a giant serial homicide case could be. It was dark outside, and she hadn’t eaten since mid-morning. The three Xanax she’d taken during the day had kept her calm as well as thirsty, and the water suppressed her appetite. Now she was ready to cut loose and eat. Preferably a buffet with lots of pasta and mashed potatoes. The way she felt right now the guy who wrote the South Beach Diet could kiss her ass.
Her stomach had felt like acid a few hours earlier, but some over-the-counter Zantac cleared it up. She wondered if that was something she needed to add to her prescription arsenal. Why not? She’d found relief in every other area of her life from some little pill.
As her computer cycled off she sensed Tony Mazzetti moving toward her. She’d noticed him at the far end of the squad bay for the last forty minutes. He always stayed late, but tonight she could tell that he was waiting until everyone else cleared out so he could talk to her. That was why she’d taken her time to pack up for the night. The games people play for romance. They hadn’t changed in centuries and hadn’t changed for individuals since elementary school. Regardless, she smiled at his approach.
Without saying a word he slid a chair and plopped in it so that he was sitting and facing her from only a few feet away.
He looked at her and she remained silent until he said, “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Got a minute?”
“Sure, Tony. I got all night.” She didn’t mean to make it sound like a crack about their attempt to make love, but that’s how it came across.
He swallowed hard and said, “I wanted to talk about the other night.”
“You’d have to be more specific.” She liked the way he squirmed. It was cute.
He took a deep breath and said, “The other night when I was unable to perform in bed.”
She kept quiet.
He looked off to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about the incident.”
“The incident? That’s what it was like for you? A homicide scene? It was an incident?” Her voice raised even though she wanted to cut the guy some slack.
“That’s a poor choice of words. I’m sorry. What I’ve really been thinking of is you. You and me.”
“Is there a you and me?”
“I-I don’t know. What I was talking about was my problem.”
“Couldn’t it be our problem?”
He seemed to be concentrating on what he would say, not what she was saying.
Mazzetti said, “I don’t think you understand. It’s not you, it’s me.”
She let her anger seep away and smiled at the cute, nervous guy. “Relax Tony, I figured it out all by myself.”
“You did? How?”
“I’ve been around a little, I’m not an idiot.”
“What are you talking about, Patty?”
“I know you’re gay, and your secret is safe with me.”
“What? Gay? Me? No, wait a second, you really don’t understand.”
She held up a hand to shut him up. “Don’t sweat it, Tony. I’m not judging you and know you think the guys in the bureau could be tough on you if they knew, so I won’t say a word. But I think you’re wrong. It’s the new millennium. I doubt it’d make any difference at all to the detectives here. They already don’t like you because you’re an asshole.”
He looked like he had more to say, but he started to hyperventilate, panting like a big dog on an August afternoon.
She watched him breathe faster and shallower until she got concerned. Then scared.
Thirty-one
John Stallings had let the analysts and Mazzetti scramble to find out all they could about the video from the beach cam. All it meant to him was another girl was missing and he’d failed in another pledge.
He’d been hitting the streets hard all day trying to find out who might’ve seen someone or something that could connect the dots in the investigation. He tried not to think of the anguish the family of the missing girl, Stacey Hines, was going through. He’d been there. Instead, he was out doing something. At this moment he was stopping in the Law and Order Pub to get some food into a young man he’d met off Bay Street who looked like he had not eaten in a week. He’d only give his first name-“Dan”-and not much else. Stallings could tell he was at least twenty, but something in his face told Stallings the young man needed a little help whether it was official or unofficial, so dinner sounded like a start.
As he was about to hold the door open for Dan, several uniformed cops came out of the pub, laughing. The first two nodded to Stallings and gave Dan a cursory, dismissive glance.
The last cop out stopped and said, “Hey, Stall, who’s your friend?”
Stallings looked up at Rick Ellis. “This is Dan, and we’re going to grab a bite.”
Ellis took a few seconds to reassess Dan but said nothing about the dirt caked on his neck and face, ripped T-shirt that used to be white, mismatched flip-flops, or hair frozen in place by grime. His face made it clear he’d caught the odor.
He looked back to Stallings and said, “Anything new on the big case?”
Stallings waited a second as Dan wandered a few feet away to look at a plant. “You heard about the video from the beach cam.”
Ellis nodded.
“We’re gonna release it tomorrow to see what we can stir up.”
“Sounds like a plan. My bosses don’t want me working with your task force again without clearing it through them first.”
“Not surprised. Shootings make command staff nervous.”
Ellis eyed Dan as he turned back toward them. “Gotta go. Keep in touch, Stall.” The big sergeant was moving away from the smelly homeless man before Stallings could say good-bye.
William Dremmel checked the results of his drug trial so far. The detailed notes and a chart he’d made up showed that Stacey Hines slipped into a deep, unconscious state with a combination of Ambien and Nembutal. She’d do the same with Seconal but had a harder time waking up. Her mood had not stabilized yet even with Wellbutin included in her meals. The antidepressant hadn’t had enough time to take hold, and she’d been distracted by her new surroundings. This was within the expected normal parameters of the trial.
Tonight he intended to ease her concerns, and the first way he’d do that was by giving her some time out of the chains. It would help her circulation. Maybe help her adjust. But he wasn’t unprepared. In the rear pocket of his jeans he had a handheld stun gun he’d bought at a gun shop for $39.99. It looked like a pistol with no barrel-square and scary. The shock delivered through two electrodes at the end of it when he squeezed the trigger was guaranteed to incapacitate any human. If Stacey stepped out of line, he wanted to be able to act without leaving any serious marks on her perfect skin.