The room went hazy and a calm, almost pleasant feeling drifted over her. William’s face fell out of focus. Then she was dreaming about kissing her mom good morning back home as she smelled hotcakes and bacon on the griddle. She tried to hold on to the dream but snapped back to reality for just a moment and thought, God, how did I get into this?
John Stallings had his pistol holstered and his arms folded, and he leaned against the hood of his car as he stared across at Ronald Bell leaning against the hood of his Buick.
“Never did much dope work, huh, Ron?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your surveillance skills are a little weak.”
“We still follow people occasionally.”
“We, as in I.A.?
“I’ve been in the unit a long time, so yes, when I say ‘we,’ I mean the professional conduct unit.”
“No one calls it PC.”
“I know, but that’s the name of the unit.”
“If you’ve been there that long without moving up that must mean you like it.”
“Look, Stall, I know you think we exist to screw with good cops, but that’s not the case.”
“Then what are you doing following me around tonight?”
Bell sighed and wiped his handsome face down with his bare hand.
“C’mon, Ron, I got things to do. We gonna spend all night here or are you gonna spill it?”
“Two things have me looking at you. First of all there’s Franklin Hall.”
“Who?”
“The pimp you brought in for questioning.”
“Oh, Jamais.”
“Yeah, same guy. He claims you threatened him and damaged his Hummer with an ASP.”
“He make a complaint?”
“No, I was looking at another issue when it came out.”
“What else, Ron?”
“The media leak in the unit.”
“You’re shitting me. We’re after a killer who’s probably just grabbed his fourth victim and you’re wasting time on who blabbed to a TV station?”
“I never said it was specifically TV.” He leaned forward like he’d just made Stallings confess.
“No, you dumb-ass, but the reports are always on TV, then the Times-Union quotes them.” He shook his head at this silliness. “And you think I’m the leak?”
“I have to investigate.”
“And I have to catch a killer.”
Bell said, “We each have a job to do.”
“But mine has a fucking purpose.”
Thirty-four
The photograph of Stacey Hines on the TV barely caught William Dremmel’s attention as he walked past the break room in the rear of the pharmacy. In the photo she was smiling as if she’d just graduated or was the homecoming queen. The cute dimples on her cheeks and light in her eyes came through even on the cheap TV with sketchy reception. The image didn’t startle him like the first time he’d seen it, because now the airwaves were flooded with her pretty face. His minor error was not looking for an Internet pole camera designed to show surfers the wave height and conditions. The grainy image from the webcam showed a petite woman, who the police said was Stacey, climbing into a vehicle. Even the police experts said it was probably a van, but no one could say it unequivocally. No one would notice him in his little tan Nissan Quest. Just like no one would see Stacey’s face again in public. At least not outside a suitcase, and he hoped that wouldn’t be for a long, long time. The story closed with the announcer saying that although there is no official comment it is believed the girl had been taken by the Bag Man.
Dremmel couldn’t keep a smile from creeping across his face. He was the Bag Man. No one knew but him.
Then the announcer said that police have several leads that look promising. That made him freeze and a lump in his stomach rise to his throat. Did they really have a lead? Had he slipped up? Allowing his van to be filmed, even if only by a crude surf camera, was a mistake. How many others had he made?
As he considered this possibility he felt a quick sting on his butt and jumped, then turned to see Lori smiling.
“C’mon, Billy,” she started. “You’re not used to someone pinching your cute caboose?”
He forced a smile and mumbled he just didn’t expect it. She followed him into the storeroom as he started to clean up old magazines. As he sorted through things to discard, Lori perched atop a case of baby formula and started chatting like she was on a class break in high school.
“How late do you work tonight, Billy?”
“I’m done here at six, but I have papers to grade after that.”
“Wanna catch dinner?” Her white teeth almost glowed against her attractive dark skin.
“I can’t tonight.” He tried to say it firmly because he knew it might be a long time until he was free.
Lori continued to hang out with him for more than fifteen minutes, then followed him back into the break room. Just as they entered there was another news teaser on Channel Eleven with a photo of Stacey Hines.
Lori said, “Hey, isn’t that the waitress you’re sweet on?”
He turned as casually as he could make himself and looked at the small screen. “I’m not sweet on a waitress.”
Lori pointed to the TV and said, “Isn’t that the girl who served us lunch the other day?”
He looked again. “I guess it could be. That’s a shame.” He had no idea how to sound concerned or show any real emotion.
“I hope they find her before that goddamn Bag Man is done with her.” Lori turned to leave, but Dremmel caught the sideways look she gave him.
He stood in the small break room alone, an uncontrollable shaking starting up one side of his body and down the other. He knew he couldn’t have a link to Stacey. Lori would put two and two together soon enough. He had to act and act fast to keep his identity a secret.
Tony Mazzetti was exhausted from the events of the last few days and his responsibilities, but he wasn’t in any kind of a bad mood. Hell, he felt pretty good. Patty had shown she was patient, and the pressure he normally felt with women had melted away. He’d considered Viagra but didn’t want to talk to his own doctor about it. Not with his hot nurse, Darlene, right there and then having to face the doctor for every little thing after. He’d rather have extra rectal exams than admit he needed help with his own equipment.
But Patty seemed to be the only medicine he needed, and now all he wanted was an opportunity. That might be tough. Being the lead on a big case like this took up a lot of time and energy. Besides actually investigating the case he had to update bosses, talk to the media, dole out leads (making sure to keep the good ones for himself), and generally keep on everyone’s ass to stay on top of things.
The video of Stacey Hines had motivated the detectives like nothing he’d ever seen before. Her photo was running on every channel and shown by the detectives to every cheap dope dealer or smart-ass pimp in an effort to scare up some information. The circumstances of the last deaths indicated that the Bag Man didn’t kill victims immediately, and that gave everyone hope that they could still find the missing girl.
He assigned out a dozen shit leads. The kind of leads Stallings would be getting if not for his contacts in the homeless community and his protection from the L.T. He checked on Patty’s assignment and saw she’d be hitting all the pharmacies on the South Side west of the river. He nodded to himself. That was a good and safe assignment. He couldn’t wait until they both had a few minutes for each other.
Stallings looked over at the blond guy in the tan Nissan Quest trying to see his face. He was paranoid and suspected every jerk-off in a van of being the Bag Man. Ever since he had seen Trina Ester and not noticed the killer at the Wendy’s, he had been careful to look closely at everyone. It was emotional and counterproductive; he needed to focus on real leads. The only thing he should be paranoid about was if he was still being followed by Internal Affairs. He had hoped his sincere, if not a little aggressive, chat with Ronald Bell would satisfy their concern that he was a leak to the media and now he could focus on finding the Bag Man.