Mazzetti said, “What’d you think, Sparky? It would help to have some kind of viable theory to filter through some of the shit.”
Sparky slowly raised his face from the open file he’d been studying intently and focused his brown eyes on his new partner. “We’ve already checked former boyfriends and possible stalkers. Those would be the most likely suspects in a case like this. But if we look at the circumstances of the body being dumped it leads us in another direction.”
Mazzetti slowly sat down in the seat at the opposite end of the table, staring at Sparky. “Go on.”
“First, I don’t think the killer, which I’ll assume is a ‘he’ based on the nature of the crime and location of the body, lived close to the construction site. I believe he was driving, so why stay in an area that could help identify you if you’ve already made the risk of transferring a body to the vehicle? He’s pretty strong, yet not necessarily tall because he was able to get the body into the Dumpster, but there were two cinder blocks stacked next to the Dumpster where the body was found. With the number of canals and rivers all over Duval County, a construction site is a poor choice to dump a body.”
“All right, Columbo, where does that leave us?”
“It leaves us with a lot of suspects if we considered all the construction workers in the city. I wonder what percentage of construction workers are felons?”
Mazzetti let out a snort of laughter and said, “That’s like saying ‘What’s the bad part of Jacksonville?’ I have to say, Jacksonville.” He laughed at the old joke every cop in the city liked to tell.
Sparky didn’t change his expression and said, “I like Jacksonville. I’m raising two boys here.”
“Have you ever seen the NBC special on runaways in Jacksonville?”
“We don’t really watch TV around our house.”
“Really? None at all?”
“We watch one hour a night as a family. Usually half is the national news and the other half is The History Channel.”
“What’d you guys do for fun at night?”
“We play games.”
“Like Monopoly?”
“Monopoly leaves too much to luck and has too simplistic a view of world economic pressures to be of any value to the children. We like to play a game which combines Trivial Pursuit with Jenga. You have to answer a question that challenges your intellect, then use your spatial abilities to dismantle the wooden tower pieces. The boys enjoy it very much.”
Mazzetti couldn’t come up with anything to say and continued to stare in silence. After he gathered his thoughts, he decided his only hope was to refocus their attention on the case. He said, “So where does that leave us? We need a jumping-off point. We have all the usual bases covered. I’d like to hear what you think might be a new way of looking at this homicide.”
Sparky said, “The logical place to start looking would be at construction sites. If we have no specific leads on a suspect and the other detectives are looking at the victims, you and I can focus on other things. Whoever dumped Kathy Mizell’s body specifically picked a construction site with a full Dumpster. It may not have been a coincidence he realized the Dumpster was going to be hauled away and dumped soon. It’s just an idea, but one I’ve been formulating all day.”
Mazzetti took a moment to assess his enigmatic new partner. The guy may have been a techno-freak who had spent most of his career in the tech squad, but he had some good insight. Even with a light Southern accent and relatively soft voice, the guy’s comments had impact. He was right. Stallings and Patty were busy working the Leah Tischler aspect of the case. Another set of detectives was looking into Kathy Mizell’s background and associations. A third set was running leads and interviewing people at UNF and the health center. So far, Mazzetti and Sparky had been out at the health center talking to Kathy Mizell’s instructors and classmates. They had also looked through all the available forensic information. Sitting on the table were security-camera shots from ten different cameras at the health center. That was the last place anyone had seen Kathy Mizell alive and it might provide a clue. But this idea of considering a construction worker wasn’t half bad.
Sparky Taylor turned in his seat and started to tap on the keyboard of the Dell laptop he took everywhere with him. He typed at a speed Mazzetti could not comprehend.
Mazzetti thought about what his partner had said and looked down at his legal pad with a list of tasks to accomplish filling most of two pages. But years of experience had taught him to follow his instincts and right now his instincts said Sparky Taylor was more than just a puffy Georgia Tech engineering graduate with odd habits.
Mazzetti said, “I wish there was an easy way to figure out exactly how many large construction sites there are in the city.”
Sparky looked from the computer screen and said, “There are thirty-nine sites requiring one or more debris Dumpsters in the downtown area and surrounding residential neighborhoods. There are an additional eighty-two three-yard Dumpsters spread out at smaller sites across the county.”
“How in the hell do you know something like that?”
“I accessed Waste Management’s website and went to a page designed for city employees. It’s supposed to help code enforcement people when they have issues with debris.”
Mazzetti sat, openmouthed, and finally said, “How did you know that site was even available?”
“It was in a memo sent out by the Intel squad about six months ago. Don’t you read the memos sent out by the other divisions?”
“Why would I do something like that? It’s all I can do keep up with my cases as it is.”
Sparky calmly looked across at Mazzetti and said, “Because it’s in our policy manual we should read memos distributed from other divisions. It also makes sense on a practical level by increasing the number of people looking at any one problem.”
“You’d have to prove to me the value of reading memos from other divisions.”
“I thought I just did.”
NINE
The pretty woman standing behind the counter in the hotel lobby extended her hand to Stallings and smiled politely. “I’m Liz Dubeck and I run this place. You might recall we met last night.” Her sly smile conveyed more than any words could.
Stallings took the hand and nodded, avoiding Patty’s intense gaze.
Patty whispered to him, “Aren’t you glad you told me the truth already? Otherwise this might be an awkward moment.”
Stallings felt like a school kid in a parent/teacher conference as both women turned their attention to him.
Patty took the woman’s hand and introduced herself, then set her battered metal case on the counter and started to take down contact information.
Stallings liked how professional Patty could be on a moment’s notice.
As soon as Patty had finished, the woman looked at Stallings and said, “What was your problem with the man I saw you with last night?”
“Just a miscommunication.”
“You seemed to be making your point very clear.”
Now Stallings felt a physical pressure from Patty’s gaze. He reached across into Patty’s metal case and pulled out a photo of Leah Tischler and laid it out on the counter. “We’ve been trying very hard to find out if anyone saw her in this area in the last few days. We have reason to believe she might’ve used a pay phone at the check-cashing store down the street and she would’ve been looking for a place to stay.”
The woman leaned down to look at the photo closely. Her dark ponytail slipped across her shoulder. Stallings appreciated the attention she was giving the photo as well as the shape of her shoulders and neck.
She looked up and said, “She said her name was Lee and she was looking for a room for a couple of nights. I told her she had to let someone know she was okay. She didn’t have to tell them where she was, but I didn’t want
