He stayed low and dove behind a thick pine tree and called out, “Not very friendly of you.”
Another brick bounced off the tree trunk.
Stallings yelled. “I’m a cop, and the next motherfucker that chucks something at me is gonna get his ass kicked. Is that clear?” He raised his voice and took off the friendly edge.
There was silence and an absence of projectiles.
He peeked from behind the tree, showing his badge as he did. He took another look, accounting for all ten men. Then he stepped out and said, “That’s better.”
No one spoke at first. Then an older man in the back said, “What are you hassling us for all the way out here?”
“Hassling you! You’re the ones who tried to take my head off.”
“This is our camp. We don’t bother no one.” The others nodded in agreement.
“I heard one of you might have something I need.”
“What?” asked a couple of them at the same time.
“A cell phone. A red cell phone.” He searched the faces in the group to see if anyone flinched or gave it away.
Everyone stayed calm.
“I expected this kind of response and was ready.” Stallings already had Allie’s number in his phone and pressed send. In a few seconds he heard the beat to a song that was also a ring tone. All the heads started turning until one man was the focus of the entire crowd.
The heavy, older white man rolled onto his knees in an attempt to spring up and flee, but Stallings was standing next to him and had to help him up to his feet.
Stallings said, “Looks like we need to talk.”
Twelve
Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office Detective John Stallings sat with the old man from the woods, drinking stale 7-11 coffee and munching on hard, dry donuts. For his part, the old man appreciated the way Stallings had dealt with him and seemed to be enjoying not only the refreshments but the show as well.
They watched two JSO crime scene techs recover and process Allie Marsh’s purse and a shirt that may or may not have belonged to the girl. The old man, after taking a few minutes to decide if he could trust the JSO detective, had told Stallings he had heard the phone ringing as he passed the Dumpster, reached in, and retrieved it. He hadn’t used it because he really didn’t have anyone to call and only answered once, which was when Stallings had called. The story had checked out, and Stallings didn’t believe the old man had anything to do with Allie’s disappearance, but he couldn’t let him wander off just yet. He made the man believe staying and watching the law enforcement spectacle was his idea. Truthfully, now that Stallings had been on duty for almost twenty hours, he didn’t mind the company.
As the sun rose and cast a pleasant light over a possibly nasty situation, he saw Patty Levine pull up in her county, unmarked Ford Freestyle with Tony Mazzetti right behind her in his big Crown Vic. Another police-looking unmarked car, a Dodge Charger, rumbled in behind them. He was surprised to see the slim, attractive form of Yvonne Zuni pop out of the Charger and start marching his way. She had a certain sway in her hips that said she was not all business, all the time.
She smiled, as she got closer. “This is impressive, Stall.” She stopped short when she saw the old man next to him.
“Who’s this?”
“He found the phone.”
“He’s the one that answered it when you called?”
Stallings nodded.
“Did he turn himself in?”
“Sort of.”
“What’s that mean?”
“When I found him, he explained the whole situation and led me here.”
“Then he’s a suspect.”
“Barely.”
“Why isn’t he in cuffs?”
Stallings looked at her with a cocked head, wondering if she was serious. “Handcuffs? Why? He’s not technically in custody.”
“Then why is he here?”
“I’m holding him in case I have more questions. It’s consensual.”
“Have you Mirandized him?”
“I don’t have to. He’s not in custody.”
“Is he free to go?”
Stallings hesitated. “What are you, his attorney?”
“No, I’m your sergeant and I want things run properly. Now, you need to shit or get off the pot. Charge him and cuff him or tell him he can go. I don’t want a complaint the first week I’m in a new job.”
Stallings started to answer, then realized she wasn’t making a personal attack. She was doing what she thought was right. Even if it was all fucked up. He nodded and walked away, motioning the old homeless guy to follow him. Stallings said, “I don’t need you anymore. You have my phone number-I want you to call me tomorrow at noon.”
The old man nodded.
“And I’ll be able to find you at your little camp?”
“That’s where I stay unless it rains. Then I use the back of the Regency Square Mall a little east of here. I don’t want to ruin it so I go by myself and only stay there every once in a while.”
Stallings nodded, understanding, like few others, the plight of homeless people. He reached in his front pocket and checked the little brown alligator money clip Charlie had given him at Christmas. He had three twenties and four singles and a five-dollar bill. He yanked out the three twenties and handed them to the old man.
The man took it and nodded his thanks. Then he said, “I’ll probably watch from the front of the 7-11. I don’t want you in trouble with your pretty sergeant.” He smiled, showing as many gaps as teeth.
Stallings let out a laugh, realizing how sharp the old man was to hear and understand what was going on. He watched the old man walk away and wondered about his own father, who had ended his career as a bully and shitty father by rolling out onto the streets himself. Stallings had seen him once in the last few years but kept tabs on him though different sources. He used to live downtown in a cheap, pay-by-the-week motel, his Navy pension keeping him safe, but alcohol slowly rotting him from the inside out. Stallings knew he had moved in the last year and hadn’t looked for him.
He’d thought that his father had at least provided him with a negative role model so he wouldn’t screw up his own marriage or kids. Now, separated and still mourning his missing Jeanie, he didn’t think his father had provided him with anything, either negative or positive.
He heard Patty say, “You need a hand with anything, John?”
He turned to see her with Mazzetti standing next to her.
Mazzetti said, “Yeah, the real cops are here now, Stall.”
“Well, Mr. Real Cop, this case just got kicked up a notch. What do you suggest we do now?”
Mazzetti just stared at him.
Stallings was sincere when he asked for investigative recommendations, but somewhere inside he hated to admit he enjoyed seeing the homicide detective baffled with such a direct inquiry.
Patty said, “I’ll see if we can get any more information off the cell towers and then check to see if there are any security cameras for businesses along the road for a couple of miles in each direction. Maybe the 7-11 had some traffic and somebody saw something?”
From off to the side, Yvonne Zuni spoke up. “That’s the first decent plan I’ve heard on a case since I came
