lose her as a potential test subject, he really didn’t want her as a potential witness. He rushed after her, a lump in his throat and his stomach so tight he thought he might vomit. “Please just hold on a minute.”
Trina looked up at him with her clothes in her hand, brown eyes angry but showing no sign of the sedative about to kick in.
He was on alert for another blow to the face, so he paused outside her short arm’s range and studied her face as it darkened. All that emotion wasn’t just because of him. This girl brought a whole stack of issues to the table. Certainly not as complex and debilitating as his own problems, but she definitely needed help. That fire, the rage shocked him. This was valuable information in itself; natural adrenaline could overcome even a sedative as strong as Seconal. He watched her carefully as she shuffled back and forth in front of the low coffee table, like she was deciding on a course of action.
Finally she said, “No, no way. I’m gone.”
“Where? How will you get there?” He fought to hide the panic in his voice.
“Don’t know, but I’m not staying in this nuthouse.”
Then he knew she was lucid. She had identified his house for what it was-an asylum. He knew he had to act.
Trina spread her blouse on the couch and started to lift her arms through the straps of her bra.
Dremmel dropped to one knee, took a firm hold on the thin but sharp knife he had brought out with the cheese, and looked up at the half-naked girl from his crouched position.
Her arms were straight up now and her bra was just slipping over her hands when he struck upward with the knife, between and slightly below her breasts. The blade slid just under her sternum, the bone providing a guide for the steel through her soft tissue into her heart and lungs. He felt her flesh close in around his fist clutching the handle of the knife and knew all those years of studying anatomy had just paid off with a perfectly placed blow.
He stood up and withdrew the knife in the same motion, leaving a surprisingly slim, neat slit in her abdomen.
Trina dropped the bra to the floor and stared at him as blood finally started to dribble, then pour out of the wound. “Oh God, oh God.” She clutched her upper stomach, covering the hole, causing blood to seep between her petite fingers. Then she started to scream. “You’re crazy. Oh God, you’re crazy.” She had tremendous volume not only for a small person but for one with a knife hole almost directly in the middle of her body.
Dremmel looked down at the blade to make sure it was as long as he had thought. Blood dripped from its pointy end all the way down to the sandy-colored wooden handle. That should’ve killed her.
Trina reached out with her right hand like she needed help, then, in an instant, grabbed at his left ear. She raked her dull nails across his face as she stumbled back, knocking her can of beer from the coffee table onto the hard terrazzo floor, then steadied herself on the big-screen LCD TV. Now she looked up at him with an air of defiance.
Dremmel flinched at the blood getting on the most expensive item in the house, felt his face where the scratches started to sting, then moved toward her with the knife still in his hand.
“Don’t come near me, you freak,” shrieked Trina, trying to back away more. At last her legs gave out and she plopped onto the cold floor, blood now spurting between her fingers. She rolled over and got up on her hands and knees, then started crawling away from him like an infant.
He had to stop her screaming. It dug into his brain like a power drill and made his ears ache. It sounded so loud that he was afraid his neighbors might hear it, let alone his mother. He knew he was panicked, but he also realized this had to stop.
As she crawled, she started muttering to herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry.”
Dremmel wondered what she was sorry for and to whom she was apologizing as he looked down at her exposed back. A tattoo he hadn’t noticed sprang up from below her belt line. A fancy, symmetrical design with no words. Her colorful hair drooped to her right side and he saw her round, meaty neck. Now he knew what to do. He changed his grip on the knife, squatted down next to the terrified girl, and then drove the blade down through the center of her neck. He put his weight behind the blow and felt the resistance as the blade bounced off vertebrae and sliced through her wind-pipe. The tip of the knife popped out the little indentation in the front of her throat as she collapsed flat onto the ground without another sound or movement.
Dremmel took a deep breath and fell back against the wall. Trina’s lifeless eyes stared directly at him as more blood seeped out of the stomach wound onto the hard terrazzo floor.
“Shit,” he muttered. He had lost a perfectly good test subject, and now he had this mess to clean up.
One thought cheered him slightly. He could focus on Stacey Hines in a few days, and he doubted she would act like this girl.
Fourteen
John Stallings felt rested after a day off. He’d spent Saturday talking to various prescription drug dealers in the downtown area and looking for Peep Morans without success, but he would keep the little shit on his radar until he found him. The other dealers would’ve given up anyone to keep from losing their freedom. Stallings had only used the threat of arrest to scare each of the bloodsuckers, but they had all been specific about who they dealt to, and none of them recognized the photos of either of the girls.
Stallings spent Sunday with the kids, shooting hoops with both of them, kicking the soccer ball with Charlie, and watching in stunned silence as Lauren displayed her gymnastic talent at flipping, tumbling, and stopping his heart all at the same time. Patty Levine had gotten her interested in the sport, and the girl had shown a real knack for it. He wasn’t sure he was happy about it considering the danger in some of the stunts, but she was happy, even if a backflip took two days and three hours off his life.
Now, at seven in the morning on a Monday, he thought his early entrance would give him a jump on any leads they might have developed on his brief time off. Rita Hester had ordered a general shutdown of the investigation for the mental well-being of the detectives involved. That was the kind of thing an administrator did-assign two people to cover leads for one day while everyone else, including Tony Mazzetti, recharged their batteries. It made sense, but the Rita Hester he knew as a regular officer would’ve bitched and moaned as much as he did when he was told to take a day off.
Now, he had to give her credit. He did feel better and energized, and he still wanted this guy so badly his stomach had burned the whole day he was off trying to be the father he never had. Even Maria had interacted with the family, briefly leaving her computer to watch Lauren’s tumbling display.
He’d barely made it through the door when he noticed Patty Levine hunched over something on her desk.
“You’re in early,” he said, slowing at her desk.
“Catalogs, catalogs, catalogs.” She slapped a pile on the side of her desk. “The search for luggage never ends.”
“You are dedicated. I like that. Anything new?”
“I’m not sure. Mazzetti and the L.T. have been huddling in the conference room for the last ten minutes.” She looked down the main squad bay of the Land That Time Forgot to the only room big enough for a table and ten chairs. By default it became the conference room.
“Ten minutes. What time did you guys get here? I thought I was early.”
“They were here when I walked in at six-thirty.”
Stallings nodded and padded on toward his desk. He had his own notes to go over and see where he should look next. First he’d like to find Peep Morans and see where that led. Then he would carefully canvass the city neighborhood by neighborhood, talking to former runaways he knew. Once they figured out he wasn’t trying to find new runaways, they opened up and helped him as best they could. So far it hadn’t led to anything significant. But Jacksonville was a big city. In fact, it was the biggest in square miles in the entire United States thanks to some consolidation of government in the sixties when the city and county merged.
He intended to try a couple of unofficial safe houses in the north part of town. He’d work his way out to the outlying communities as he needed to, but he felt he’d find a lead closer to the center of J-Ville.
