This is the kind of conversation Stallings needed right now. Just chatting with an old friend who had positive things to say.
After a few more minutes of conversation about the details of the Bag Man case they said their good- byes.
Feeling pretty good now, Stallings started to put the car in gear when he saw something that threw his whole mood off track; Mazzetti and Patty walked out the side door together and the body language said they weren’t going out on a lead.
This was troubling.
It was dark out when William Dremmel parked his tan minivan about three blocks from the restaurant where young Stacey Hines worked. He could just see the restaurant’s back door and had pulled a distributor wire on Stacey’s beat-up Escort. In his simple but ingenious plan, he’d offer her a ride, explaining that he had a mechanic friend who would look at it tomorrow for free. That would work with a waitress who had just lost a roommate and was probably facing money troubles.
His idea to appear more appealing by showing off Lori still probably worked with Stacey, but it had unintended consequences. While driving her back to work, Lori laid a barrage of questions on him about his interest in Stacey. Lori was smart and immediately picked up on the fact that Dremmel was interested in the cute waitress. Of course she had no idea what kind of interest he had, but she saw the sparks.
What had confounded him was that he’d completely missed the fact that Lori might hold those kinds of feelings. If she was jealous, then she must view him as more than a friend. Now he’d have to watch how he acted around her at work.
His research was the most important thing. He’d come too far to let a personal relationship throw him off track. He focused all of his energy on Stacey now. Any time now she’d walk through the back door, find her car wouldn’t crank, and he would start his van and ease into the situation that would move his research ahead and satisfy his obsession with the young woman. He knew all there was to know about her from his research. No medical treatment since she’d been in Florida. That may have been because she was still on her parent’s insurance and she didn’t want them to be able to track her down.
This was the right time. He couldn’t risk the roommate telling her parents where she lived when she got back to Ohio. He could picture Stacey’s father racing down and forcing his twenty-one-year-old daughter to return to the Midwest.
He froze when the back door did open a few inches. He started the van and turned the wheel so he could glide out onto the street, checking the mirrors to make sure the road was clear. The door opened enough for him to see Stacey’s profile as she turned back and spoke to someone inside the kitchen.
His heart raced as a surge of excitement coursed through his body. An erection blossomed and his hands trembled with anticipation. He loved this feeling almost as much as the actual lab work where he could hold the girls and watch their bodies show the effects of the different drugs. Drugs that he had administered. No one else held that kind of power. No one else went as far in research. He wanted to pound the wheel to let off the building pressure.
Stacey stepped out of the door onto the low landing in front of her car.
William Dremmel pulled from the curb and started down the street toward his prize.
Patty Levine gazed up at Tony Mazzetti’s dark, beautiful eyes. This was not the guy other people saw. Leaning against the wall next to her condo’s front door, he had a boyish smile as they played the timeless game of who’s going to say good-bye first. Normally the game, or any cute little ritual like it, would’ve made Patty sick to her stomach, but she so rarely had the chance to participate herself, she allowed the indulgence.
They had grabbed a quick dinner and did talk about the case. No cop could work on a case like this without letting it invade every part of his or her life. But unlike TV cops, real ones had lives off camera and couldn’t work twenty-four hours a day. Especially Patty, who even now could feel the pain in her knee and back shoot up through her from standing in hard shoes all day. A couple of Percocets would knock it out.
She had declined alcohol at dinner as Mazzetti drank two glasses of moderately expensive pinot noir. She knew it gave him the impression that she was a health fanatic, but in reality she worried about how alcohol would interact with all the prescriptions she took, so she hadn’t had a drink in more than six years. It added to her perception as an ex-jock around the Sheriff’s Office.
Tony Mazzetti was no athletic slouch himself. He’d spent a lot of time in the gym, and it showed with his wide shoulders and the biceps she couldn’t fit both hands around.
They danced around the good-bye to their impromptu date. She’d promised herself never to let the stress of a case push her too close to a coworker. With married John Stallings it was never really an issue. Besides, the senior detective treated her like a kid sister more than anything else, and she liked it that way. Now she’d been caught in the trap she’d seen too many female cops fall into. Was she interested in Mazzetti because he was an intelligent, funny, perceptive man or because there were no other options? Or was it the Bag Man case? Hell, she wished there was a pill she could take to figure this shit out. Instead she reached her hands around Mazzetti’s muscular neck and laid a kiss on him like she hadn’t had a real kiss in over a year. Which she hadn’t.
The next move was all his.
Nineteen
William Dremmel eased the van down the street, rehearsing out loud the casual way he intended to approach Stacey. “Hey, what’re you still doing here?” then, “Am I too late to eat?” He figured she’d laugh and tell him how her car wouldn’t start. He’d be ready with, “I got a buddy who’ll fix it for free. Can I give you a lift home?” It couldn’t miss.
After he had her in the car he’d make an excuse to go home. He had his lab all set up with the bed in place, furniture in the closet, and the chains ready to go. He didn’t want another disaster like Trina. But he did have a knife in his pocket and would from now on. It was just luck he had one available to use the way he did with Trina. His first priority was to avoid detection. If he was caught, his research ended. He didn’t like losing a test subject, but it was better than the whole project going down the drain. Not to mention what might happen to him. He thought the authorities might frown on the way he’d been conducting research.
Now he looked out his spotless windshield and saw Stacey still in profile at the door. He slowed down to a crawl to give her time to get out and to the car.
She stepped away from the door, then down the two steps to the ground, but the rear door was still open.
As Dremmel approached, he saw her hop into the small car and crank it as a large, round black man in an apron stood on the back stoop shaking his head. When the van was almost even with the rear parking lot, still moving slowly, the cook stepped to the car and bent to open the hood.
Dremmel didn’t hesitate. He kept a steady speed right past them and hoped no one noticed. He’d have to figure another way to make his approach to Stacey Hines, and he knew he had to do it soon.
John Stallings sprawled on his comfortable micro-fiber couch with Lauren equally relaxed next to him, her head nestled on his arm. He took a sip of the cranberry juice he had been drinking all night. He had an occasional beer if he was away from the house without anyone from the family, but around the house it was strictly no alcohol. He and Lauren had been watching an ESPN replay of Jaguar highlights of the 2007 playoffs. He could watch David Gerrard scramble for a touchdown a hundred times and he wouldn’t get tired of it. Lauren proclaimed a mild interest, but he knew that sometimes she just needed to spend time alone with her father. And he was glad of it. He needed time with the kids too. He wished time as a family was easier to come by and more rewarding for all of them, but that didn’t happen much right now. Baby steps. That’s what he kept telling himself.
He switched channels and caught a news update at the end of the hour on a local channel. The anchor said, “JSO detectives invade the community college looking for leads in the death of Tawny Wallace.” Video of the crime scene for the latest victim came on screen. “Veteran homicide detective John Stallings, known for his heroic capture of serial killer Carl Cernick, is heading the investigation of the so-called Bag Man, who is believed responsible for at least three deaths.”
He snatched up the remote and switched off the TV.
