knife now, but decided to leave it in his pocket and wait until he had a few more minutes of fun with her before he got down to serious business.
He opened the door and jumped into the room with an exaggerated grunt, then froze.
There were candles already lit around the room, and Holly stood behind a tall bench, still smiling.
The door swung shut behind him, and then he noticed the other people in the room. He scanned and counted six figures besides Holly: five men and one tall, dark-skinned woman.
He said, “What in the hell is this?”
A tall man with broad shoulders next to Holly slowly drew a long knife that reflected the candlelight.
Now he wondered who the hunter really was.
Nineteen
Stallings searched through the bland personnel file and saw that Gary Lauer had been with the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office for six years. He’d been in the motorcycle traffic unit for three years and a member of the department’s SWAT team for two years. He was twenty-nine, very fit, and, based on his evaluations, a good, aggressive cop. There were several complaints of use of force, but that was normal. Anyone who was arrested wanted to cry foul and blame others. Stallings saw a one-page memo that said an allegation of domestic battery had been investigated and dropped due to “lack of evidence and witnesses.” That was a different finding from “unfounded” or “false accusation.”
Ronald Bell waited silently near the door to the file room. Stallings hated to admit it, but the IA detective had provided him valuable information. It was something to keep in mind when Stallings interviewed Lauer in the morning.
Stallings made a few notes and walked past Bell at the door.
The IA detective said, “This something we’re gonna have to take over?”
“I’ll let you know. My new sergeant will make that call.”
“Yvonne the Terrible.”
Stallings nodded, still worried about that nickname.
Bell said, “Ask her about Lauer.”
“Why, what would she know?”
“She had to straighten him out once. You’ll know by the scar on his left eyebrow.”
“How’d you know that?”
“C’mon, Stall, I’m IA. I know everything.”
All Stallings knew was that this guy was still an asshole.
He stared at the knife and the other men standing around him. No one made a move or threatened him, but he knew the situation. It was as if he were a leopard trapped by a herd of water buffalo. Numbers counted for something.
Holly, still cheerful, patted the table and said, “It’d make this so much easier if you climbed up onto the altar for us. Would ya, please?”
He was careful not to telegraph his intentions. “You guys are a cult. I think you might want to try and bag someone else.”
One of the men said, “Holly says you’re exactly who we need. Lean and athletic, your essence will live on in us for years to come. It’s the best way to go.”
He nodded slowly. “I doubt that, and I doubt you’ll be able to succeed tonight.” Then he kicked the man to his right hard in the knee, knocking him back and making him howl at the same time. He didn’t hesitate to grab the doorknob and yank, striking the man on his left with the edge of the wooden door. He turned and threw an elbow into the man’s face for good measure and darted out the door as he heard confusion erupt in the room.
Instead of fleeing down the stairs he paused outside the room and struck the first man out in the face with a solid back fist. That made the rest hesitate.
He ran as quietly as possible down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out to his car. He had his own knife out for defense as he backed the car out quickly, hoping one of these morons would wander out the door behind him.
No one did.
His tires squealed briefly as he tore away from the house, wondering how he would get his revenge, but certain he would.
John Stallings stood between his and Patty’s cars outside the Police Memorial Building. She seemed tired to him, but he fought his big-brother urge to tell her to get some sleep. Instead he tried to be subtle.
“Don’t screw up your personal life like I did. As much as I hate to say it, you have a boyfriend now.”
She smiled. “Why do you hate to say it?”
“I’m glad you have a boyfriend, but your choice in men is not exactly comforting to me.”
“C’mon, John, Tony is a good guy. No one gives him a chance.”
“Because they’re usually pissed off at him.”
“I’m working on that.”
Stallings laughed and said, “Women always want to fix men.”
“Because most of you are severely damaged.”
“You really should get some rest.”
Patty sighed. “Tony’s out on the triple drug shooting. I won’t see much of him for a few days.”
“We got a lot to do too. Now that we have leads and people to talk to. I’m hoping the cop, Gary Lauer, noticed someone talking to Allie.”
“Why would a cop hang out in that place?” Patty made a face to show her disgust at a twenty-nine-year-old officer mixing with college kids.
“Ron Bell said he could be trouble.”
“I’ve seen him around. Kind of a gung-ho, motorman type. Superfit pretty boy who likes to show off a little.”
“Isn’t that most young men?”
Patty laughed. “Let’s see what we find out about Lauer before we bumble in and talk to him.”
“You want to treat him like a suspect?” That hadn’t really occurred to Stallings.
“Don’t you always say, ‘Is this the day that changes my life?’ ”
“How does that apply here?”
“I thought the whole point of the mantra was to keep you alert and keep your mind open.”
“I guess we can score one for the junior partner. That’s exactly what it’s for.” But the idea that a cop could be handing out a drug to college girls lodged in his head and started to bug him. This case was turning into so much more than the simple missing college girl it started as.
Twenty
The sun smacked him in the face, making his eyes snap open to a startling sight. Staring back at him were deep blue eyes and a bright row of teeth. He breathed deeply, adjusting to his surroundings. The blinds were up and at an odd angle, letting the mid-morning sun flood the small bedroom.
He cleared his throat and said, “Hey.”
The steady smile didn’t waver.
“What time is it?”
Still no movement, just a smile.
He reached out and grabbed the smiling face and pulled the small boy onto his bed.
The boy giggled loudly as he started to tickle him and said “Why did you open my blinds?”
The boy lay back, gasping between laughs and said one of the eight words he knew. “Uncle.”
