The Perfect Prey (30 page)

It was Patty and she didn’t even bother greeting him. All she said was, “Tony, where’d you get the Ecstasy pill you submitted to the lab?”

He had to think what she was talking about, but before he could give her a straight answer his instincts asked, “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

He could hear the frustration in her voice and tried to explain it as best he could. “Jesus, Patty, you yell at me when I don’t submit stuff to the lab, and now you yell at me when I do submit stuff to lab. I’m just curious why you want to know about some nasty homemade Ecstasy tablet.”

“Because we may have found a link to our case.”

“You can link a triple shooting with a drug overdose of a spring breaker?”

“Tony, where’d you get the pill?”

“From the lady in the house across the street from the triple shooting.”

“Based on the neighborhood, I’m assuming she’s African American?” She sounded disappointed.

“She is, but she claimed her white boyfriend gave it to her.”

“Did you see this guy?”

“Just for a split second. A white guy about thirty with brown hair.”

“That guy is probably Jason Ferrell. He made the Ecstasy you found in Kathleen Harding’s purse.”

Mazzetti had walked into the carport of the house while Patty had yelled at him, but now he jerked his head up and stared at Miss Brison’s house across the street. Could her boyfriend–she’d called him Chuck, but she admitted that wasn’t his name–know something that could help him on this case? It didn’t really matter, because a fellow detective who happened to be his girlfriend was asking him for help. Finally Mazzetti said, “I think I know where we can find your X dealer.”

He loved to feel the cool breeze off the ocean and had already surveyed the park and surrounding beach. There were a few people around but not enough to interfere with any plans he might have with the beautiful Ann. He watched as she pulled the big Buick into the parking space closest to the beach walkway. He parked his Jeep in the corner of the lot so it was obvious when she drove in. He hustled down the sidewalk to greet her.

She surprised him with a full embrace and a kiss on the lips. He let the kiss linger and felt her tongue probe
into his mouth and her hips grind into him. He’d definitely waited long enough for this one. Power surged through his body as he started to realize his potential as a predator.

Ann said, “You’re right–this place is perfect.” She opened the rear door of the Buick and pulled out a blanket. “And it’s nice and private down the beach a ways.”

He held out his palm, offering the last hit of Ecstasy. “Just for you.”

She plucked it out of his hand, held it up to the dimming light of the setting sun, turned to him, and asked, “What does J2A mean?”

“I have no idea, but it’s on every pill my buddy Jason has ever given me.”

She stuffed the pill in the front pocket of her tight shorts and said, “Thanks. I might do it later, but right now I need to concentrate.”

As long as she took the tab before he invited her out for a swim. That was his plan, and it excited him so much there was no way he was going to vary from it.

Stallings felt comfortable with the way they’d set up the surveillance. For a change it felt as if they had enough people to accomplish their mission. Mazzetti and Christina Hogrebe were watching the front of the house from the carport of the house where the triple shooting had occurred. Stallings and Patty sat in his Impala a few blocks down the street with a view of the approach to the house. He wasn’t worried about being spotted, because everyone knew the cops were working a triple homicide and he didn’t think it would be unusual to have cops at the house or down the street. He doubted anyone suspected they were interested in a white chemist shacked up with a woman across the street.

Patty said, “What do you think about going in and talking to this Miss Brison?”

Stallings shook his head. “Mazzetti already said she covered for him once. If he’s still driving the blue Mustang we’ll see him pull up.”

Patty said, “You know you’re lucky.”

“How so?”

“With all the shit that’s happened in the last few days and the way you reacted to it, you should be sitting at home on suspension, if not under full criminal investigation.”

He just nodded, because he knew she was right. That was the beauty of a steady partner; they were allowed to say anything they wanted and you had to listen. He was lucky his partner was smart and insightful and had some common sense.

She said, “The sarge really saved your ass.”

Again he nodded.

“That’s frustrating.”

“What is? Agreeing with everything you say?” He thought about it and added, “I gotta find a way to make it up to her. She proved her value, and now I have to prove mine.”

“If we catch Jason Ferrell and close out the Allie Marsh case, that should do it. I think Ferrell can point us in the right direction, and if it was Gary Lauer, then he’s all done as a cop. But if it was someone else, we should be able to clear Lauer completely.”

He didn’t answer, because the way he felt right now he didn’t want Gary Lauer working as a cop no matter what the outcome of this case. It had been a slow evolution of thought for him to recognize some people should not be police officers. They didn’t have the right temperament. It was easy to lose your police certification. Unlike a lawyer who could commit a felony, spend time in prison, and still go back to practicing law, or a fireman who could claim a chemical dependence to slip out of virtually any problem, a cop had to go by policy as well as the code of the street. Two sets of rules that didn’t always coincide. That was one of the reasons he’d
been reluctant to believe a cop would do something as stupid as distributing X to meet women.

Stallings started to dream about catching the guy responsible for at least two girls’ deaths. “I can’t wait to catch Ferrell.” He saw the expression on Patty’s face and had to say, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna beat his ass. First thing I’m going to do is make him call his mom so she won’t be worried anymore.”

He saw Patty squinting through the windshield and followed her gaze in time to see the blue Mustang pull in the driveway.

Ann wasn’t lying when she told him she liked the spot. It was a beautiful beach with the Atlantic gently rolling onto the deserted shore. She hadn’t even noticed anyone in the parking lot when they pulled in. But there was something wrong with the whole situation. Ann was smart. Not just book smart, but, as her dad always said, she had a good head on her shoulders too. She liked always being the voice of reason among her girlfriends and keeping everyone out of trouble. But now she felt ashamed. That was not one of the emotions she was used to. She should’ve ignored this guy after finding him dancing with the loudmouth from Georgia. That whole confrontation had shaken her a little with the cute, chubby girl right up in her face at the bar. She’d done nothing to deserve it. And she hadn’t seen the girl again. Thank God.

She felt she was too smart to be fooling around with this guy at all. He was way too good looking, and she knew guys like that viewed sex as a sport with a score-card. She didn’t know if she was an early-inning hit or a
late-inning hit, but she knew he was looking to knock her out of the park. And she felt slutty, because the only reason she was doing it was for more of those Ecstasy tablets with the funny
J2A
mark on them. She’d smoked some pot and drank now and then, but she could take it or leave it. The homemade drug was a different story. This Ecstasy seemed to supercharge her and put her on another plane of existence. She didn’t want to waste that on this guy. That’s why she had saved the X tab for later. And she knew she’d probably hit him up for more before she left Jacksonville. That’s why she was going to sleep with him today. Like any good former Girl Scout she was prepared. She’d packed a blanket and had been drinking steadily for hours so she could always use the excuse she was drunk. Besides that, he was awfully hot, in a very superficial kind of way.

She’d told her boyfriend, Derek, that during spring break he was free to see anyone he wanted just like she was. At the time she said it, with him looking like a puppy in front of her, she only halfway meant it. By halfway she meant she should be able to see people on break and he shouldn’t. It was funny when she’d told her girlfriends, but now she felt guilty thinking about him at his parents’ house in Pensacola. He was probably playing Nintendo Wii with his little brother and a couple of the buddies he grew up with. She doubted he was at the clubs looking at other girls. Right now she knew she couldn’t say much about it if he was. This was definitely one of those incidents she’d never bring up. She knew it was wrong. She hadn’t even told her girlfriends where she was going or who she was seeing. It felt dirty but in a sexy kind of way.

She even briefly thought about her parents and how she was certain her father still thought she was a virgin.
She’d made sure he kept that idealized vision of her and only brought home the best possible husband candidates. Deep down she doubted Derek would make the cut. He was cute and funny, but he was getting his degree in psychology and her father would say that is a waste of time and not much of a potential income earner. She viewed it much the same way. If she played her cards right, she knew she could see Derek for the rest of the semester and maybe start over again with an engineering student or maybe even an accounting student in the fall.

She had to stop linking sex to getting the Ecstasy tabs; it made her feel too much like a prostitute.

The beach was so deserted no one even noticed them on the blanket Ann had brought. He tried to get her to take the X before they went into the water, but she said she had to drive and didn’t think it was safe. He knew that was the least of her worries. He thought about it and decided the Ecstasy in her system wasn’t necessary because she’d just be another drowning victim not used to the riptides of the Atlantic Ocean.

He rolled off her with a grunt and started to peel off his condom, saying, “That was great.”

She stayed flat on her back, mashed into the sand, with no real expression on her face, but her eyes cut to him and she suddenly sat up, wiping grains of sand from her lopsided breasts while checking up and down the beach to make sure no one surprised them. She mumbled, “Yeah, great. I’m going for a swim.” With that she struggled to her feet in the soft sand and trotted into the water alone.

This was exactly what he wanted, even if it wasn’t
with the enthusiasm he’d expected. Now it was time to feel the real power of life and death. It was time to bring down his last antelope of the season. As he stepped into the cool surf he had an odd feeling. Usually he enjoyed being a big cat prowling the open plain, but now, with the water gently rolling over his feet and seeing Ann’s blond head bobbing in the ocean, he suddenly felt like a great, South American crocodile. He slipped into the water accordingly with his head up, arms at his side and feet pushing along the bottom. He envisioned wrapping her in a giant death hug and spinning in the water like a crocodile until she had drowned. In fact, he had to make it appear completely accidental. He’d drawn too much attention with Allie Marsh already. He’d figure out a way to get her underwater and leave her there.

He gauged their distance, then plunged underwater, racing toward her like a crocodile on the hunt.

Tony Mazzetti liked clearing homicides in and around Jacksonville. He liked piecing together the puzzles each case presented. Some cases needed a lot of interviews and had witnesses coming out the wazoo. Some cases needed help from forensics, and the nerds in the lab made him look good on a regular basis. In some cases, a few precious cases, there was media coverage with a spotlight that made him shine. He liked those the best and always tried to send the news clips to his mother.

But this was one aspect of police work wasn’t crazy about. He didn’t like tactical situations. He never enjoyed kicking in doors or even drawing his gun if he didn’t have to. That’s what the goddamn SWAT team
was for. This was not a fact he had ever shared with anyone else for fear of being labeled a coward. Cops were paid to risk their lives sometimes. And he did–he just didn’t enjoy it like some screwballs did. He had no idea if this guy, Jason Ferrell, was dangerous or not. But now was not the time to voice those concerns.

As he crept up the driveway of Miss Brison’s house, he crouched down and stuck a folding knife in the Mustang’s front tire. He looked over his shoulder as the air hissed out of the tire and said to Christina Hogrebe, “A little insurance.” A moment later he was at the front door of the clapboard house with his partner right behind him. Patty Levine and Stallings were covering the rear of the house. This time when they asked to speak to the white man of the house he’d have nowhere to flee.

He pounded on the front door, not caring if he startled anyone inside and frankly hoping to scare their target out the back door. It only took a moment for the front door to open a crack and Miss Brison’s pretty face to appear.

“Whatchu making all that racket for? This house ain’t so big I can’t hear a knock at the front door.”

She sounded much sharper tonight than she had the last time they had spoken. Mazzetti didn’t want to risk losing this guy, so he wasted no time stepping through the front door and forcing Miss Brison backward as he did. He scanned the room quickly as his partner stepped past him and did a quick scan of each room down the hallway on her way to the kitchen. Mazzetti heard her open the back door in the kitchen, and Stallings appeared with her at the end of the hallway.

Mazzetti turned to Miss Brison. “Okay, where is he?”

“Who?”

“Jason Ferrell.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Who?”

“Jason Ferrell, the man we saw walking in here from the blue Mustang.”

“Oh, you mean Chuck. I like to call him Chuck.”

“You can cut the shit. We’re not leaving here unless we have Chuck with us. Now where is he?” The house wasn’t that big and certainly wouldn’t be considered cluttered, but he knew their fugitive had to be in here somewhere.