reason she was doing it was for more of those Ecstasy tablets with the funny J2A mark on them. She’d smoked some pot and drank now and then, but she could take it or leave it. The homemade drug was a different story. This Ecstasy seemed to supercharge her and put her on another plane of existence. She didn’t want to waste that on this guy. That’s why she had saved the X tab for later. And she knew she’d probably hit him up for more before she left Jacksonville. That’s why she was going to sleep with him today. Like any good former Girl Scout she was prepared. She’d packed a blanket and had been drinking steadily for hours so she could always use the excuse she was drunk. Besides that, he was awfully hot, in a very superficial kind of way.
She’d told her boyfriend, Derek, that during spring break he was free to see anyone he wanted just like she was. At the time she said it, with him looking like a puppy in front of her, she only halfway meant it. By halfway she meant she should be able to see people on break and he shouldn’t. It was funny when she’d told her girlfriends, but now she felt guilty thinking about him at his parents’ house in Pensacola. He was probably playing Nintendo Wii with his little brother and a couple of the buddies he grew up with. She doubted he was at the clubs looking at other girls. Right now she knew she couldn’t say much about it if he was. This was definitely one of those incidents she’d never bring up. She knew it was wrong. She hadn’t even told her girlfriends where she was going or who she was seeing. It felt dirty but in a sexy kind of way.
She even briefly thought about her parents and how she was certain her father still thought she was a virgin. She’d made sure he kept that idealized vision of her and only brought home the best possible husband candidates. Deep down she doubted Derek would make the cut. He was cute and funny, but he was getting his degree in psychology and her father would say that is a waste of time and not much of a potential income earner. She viewed it much the same way. If she played her cards right, she knew she could see Derek for the rest of the semester and maybe start over again with an engineering student or maybe even an accounting student in the fall.
She had to stop linking sex to getting the Ecstasy tabs; it made her feel too much like a prostitute.
The beach was so deserted no one even noticed them on the blanket Ann had brought. He tried to get her to take the X before they went into the water, but she said she had to drive and didn’t think it was safe. He knew that was the least of her worries. He thought about it and decided the Ecstasy in her system wasn’t necessary because she’d just be another drowning victim not used to the riptides of the Atlantic Ocean.
He rolled off her with a grunt and started to peel off his condom, saying, “That was great.”
She stayed flat on her back, mashed into the sand, with no real expression on her face, but her eyes cut to him and she suddenly sat up, wiping grains of sand from her lopsided breasts while checking up and down the beach to make sure no one surprised them. She mumbled, “Yeah, great. I’m going for a swim.” With that she struggled to her feet in the soft sand and trotted into the water alone.
This was exactly what he wanted, even if it wasn’t with the enthusiasm he’d expected. Now it was time to feel the real power of life and death. It was time to bring down his last antelope of the season. As he stepped into the cool surf he had an odd feeling. Usually he enjoyed being a big cat prowling the open plain, but now, with the water gently rolling over his feet and seeing Ann’s blond head bobbing in the ocean, he suddenly felt like a great, South American crocodile. He slipped into the water accordingly with his head up, arms at his side and feet pushing along the bottom. He envisioned wrapping her in a giant death hug and spinning in the water like a crocodile until she had drowned. In fact, he had to make it appear completely accidental. He’d drawn too much attention with Allie Marsh already. He’d figure out a way to get her underwater and leave her there.
He gauged their distance, then plunged underwater, racing toward her like a crocodile on the hunt.
Tony Mazzetti liked clearing homicides in and around Jacksonville. He liked piecing together the puzzles each case presented. Some cases needed a lot of interviews and had witnesses coming out the wazoo. Some cases needed help from forensics, and the nerds in the lab made him look good on a regular basis. In some cases, a few precious cases, there was media coverage with a spotlight that made him shine. He liked those the best and always tried to send the news clips to his mother.
But this was one aspect of police work wasn’t crazy about. He didn’t like tactical situations. He never enjoyed kicking in doors or even drawing his gun if he didn’t have to. That’s what the goddamn SWAT team was for. This was not a fact he had ever shared with anyone else for fear of being labeled a coward. Cops were paid to risk their lives sometimes. And he did-he just didn’t enjoy it like some screwballs did. He had no idea if this guy, Jason Ferrell, was dangerous or not. But now was not the time to voice those concerns.
As he crept up the driveway of Miss Brison’s house, he crouched down and stuck a folding knife in the Mustang’s front tire. He looked over his shoulder as the air hissed out of the tire and said to Christina Hogrebe, “A little insurance.” A moment later he was at the front door of the clapboard house with his partner right behind him. Patty Levine and Stallings were covering the rear of the house. This time when they asked to speak to the white man of the house he’d have nowhere to flee.
He pounded on the front door, not caring if he startled anyone inside and frankly hoping to scare their target out the back door. It only took a moment for the front door to open a crack and Miss Brison’s pretty face to appear.
“Whatchu making all that racket for? This house ain’t so big I can’t hear a knock at the front door.”
She sounded much sharper tonight than she had the last time they had spoken. Mazzetti didn’t want to risk losing this guy, so he wasted no time stepping through the front door and forcing Miss Brison backward as he did. He scanned the room quickly as his partner stepped past him and did a quick scan of each room down the hallway on her way to the kitchen. Mazzetti heard her open the back door in the kitchen, and Stallings appeared with her at the end of the hallway.
Mazzetti turned to Miss Brison. “Okay, where is he?”
“Who?”
“Jason Ferrell.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Who?”
“Jason Ferrell, the man we saw walking in here from the blue Mustang.”
“Oh, you mean Chuck. I like to call him Chuck.”
“You can cut the shit. We’re not leaving here unless we have Chuck with us. Now where is he?” The house wasn’t that big and certainly wouldn’t be considered cluttered, but he knew their fugitive had to be in here somewhere.
Calmly, Miss Brison pointed over Mazzetti’s shoulder toward the front door and said, “No need to fuss, sugar. He’s right there.”
Mazzetti turned to see a man slip from the curtains and out the front door in a heartbeat. He called back to Stallings and Christina and raced after him. He cleared the front door and took a second to scan each side of the house, then heard the engine to his Crown Vic rumble to life.
“Oh shit.” He sprang across the porch and down the three steps, pulling his pistol as the car squealed away from the curb and headed down the street. Mazzetti considered squeezing off a few rounds even though his life was not in danger. He wished it was with the embarrassment he was about to suffer.
From behind him he heard Stallings say, “Tony, you dumb shit, did you leave your keys in the car?” Stallings didn’t wait for an answer as he darted for his Impala. A few seconds later they were racing after Mazzetti’s car.
Forty-eight
Ann seemed distant as they floated in the water, but it didn’t really matter now. He knew exactly what had to happen. He swam next to her, his toes barely touching the sandy bottom while Ann had to tread water. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He started to feel the power of the predator surge through him as he approached her from behind, wrapped his arms around her, sucked in a deep breath, then, in one quick motion, squeezed the air out of her and pulled her under the surface.
For a moment he thought she’d offer no resistance. Then she struggled and started to flail her arms and legs, but he kept up his pressure and dragged her to the ocean floor. He couldn’t spin like he wanted to. Like a crocodile would. But he knew in a second, as her struggling grew weaker, he’d absorb her life force as it leaked out of her.
Then, he didn’t know if it was by accident or on purpose, the back of her head struck him hard in the face. He
