The Perfect Death

“Do you have any idea why Leah would run away?” She hoped it was a clue as well as a reason.

Tonya looked down at the ground floor and wiped her eyes with the soggy paper towel.

Stallings looked at Patty and shrugged his shoulders, obviously having no idea what to make of the sobbing girl.

Patty placed a hand on the girl’s back and said, “Tonya, it’s very important we know everything you know. We’ll hold anything you tell us in the strictest of confidence. But we have to do everything we can to find Leah now.”

After another few seconds the girl lifted her head and said, “I loved her and she loved me.”

Patty took a moment to make sure she understood the simple comment. “Why would that make her want to run away?”

The girl sniffled and said, “You think her dad wants to acknowledge a lesbian daughter when he intends to run for the county commission? That’s all he ever talks about. He’s a big-time lawyer with big-time contacts, and he can get anything he wants done in this county.”

Patty listened to what the girl had to say, then moved to the seat next to Tonya and placed her hand on top of the girl’s hand. “Tonya, would you tell us if you’d seen Leah since she ran away?”

Tonya stared directly into Patty’s eyes. “I swear to God I haven’t seen her.”

“Any ideas where she might have gone?”

Tonya paused, her eyes shifting between the detectives. “She has a friend in Tennessee or Kentucky.”

“How do you know about the friend?”

“We fought about her.”

“What’s her name?”

“I never got it. I know they met through a music festival in Jacksonville. This other girl came down from Knoxville or Memphis and impressed Leah. She’s a college student and blond. That’s all I know.”

Patty took some quick notes. This was worth following up if they had the time. She looked back at Tonya. “Anything else you can think of?”

She sobbed and grabbed a gulp of air. “Please find her. I’m so worried I can’t do anything.”

The lump in Patty’s throat gave her a hint of what John Stallings must feel every day.

Tony Mazzetti had been hopping all day. Two interviews first thing in the morning, a quick meeting with the medical examiner, an interview on a midday news talk show about how hard it was to be a homicide detective in the Bold New City of the South. The reporter also asked him about what it was like growing up in New York but living in Jacksonville. Mazzetti worked hard not to use words like “redneck” and “dumb ass.”

Now he was glancing over a few reports from the other detectives. He was particularly interested in anything Stallings and Patty had found out about the missing girl and the belt discovered around Kathy Mizell’s throat. Patty usually filled him in on stuff in an informal way, but he liked to be on top of things anyway. The fight in the D-bureau had thrown off everyone’s schedule. He’d hung around to make sure he wasn’t needed. There was nothing he could do to help the situation and he had plenty of leads to investigate.

The phone on his desk rang and it took him a second just to determine which phone was ringing. In the era of cell phones, landline phones had become almost obsolete to most detectives. He picked it up, barking his name in the receiver as a means of greeting.

A voice equally as gruff, said, “Tony, it’s me, Joey.”

“Joey Big Balls?”

“Yeah, I’m calling about our conversation from the other night.”

“You got any names that popped out at you?”

“Like you said, there are always a few weirdos around. I guess in your line of work that’s important information, but for me, as long as they can plumb a line or hang drywall halfway decent, I could give a shit less about what they do in their spare time.”

“I know, I know. I’m not lookin’ to thin out your ranks, but this is a bad guy we’re looking for.”

“That’s why I’m helping out, but you gotta keep this between you and me.”

“Joey, do you really think I’d fuck you, a fellow Italian from up north? You’re good as gold.”

“Were you full of shit growing up, or did it happen after you became a cop?”

“I guess a little of both. What’ve you got for me?”

There was hesitation on the line and Mazzetti could hear voices in the background so he didn’t push it and gave the big man a second until he could speak freely.

Finally Joey Big Balls said, “I got five names I’m gonna give you, but that means you don’t come by and bother me anytime you feel like. Capice?”

“Now we’re paisanos?”

“Business associates, that’s it.” Joey went on to give him five names.

Mazzetti said, “You got any identifiers on these guys?”

“Like what?”

“Descriptions would be nice.”

“They look like construction workers. All of them. They could double as bikers on the weekends. White guys and all of them have raised red flags with us for something they said or done. And I don’t mean like stealin’ tools or punching someone in the head. I listened to what you said and gave you names of guys who act a little creepy when it comes to women or kids. You can do whatever you want with the names as long as no one ever knows I gave them to you.”

As Mazzetti was about to thank Joey Big Balls, the line went dead. So much for friendship.

It had taken almost an hour to pick up the flat sheets of tempered glass he had for a job next week. These weren’t even etched, but he didn’t care because they paid up front and he needed the money. He’d never worried much about money except when he had almost starved trying to make a living as a glassblower. But for the last ten years or so, he had lived very comfortably, even saved a little now and then. Now money and saving didn’t seem that important to him. He could afford to eat most meals out and appreciated having one less worry.

He stopped at the Starbucks near Shands Jacksonville Medical Center to grab a cup of green tea, which he’d been told to drink on a daily basis. He waited in the short line until the barista greeted him with a big smile.

“Don’t I usually see you on Mondays?”

He smiled and nodded, mumbling, “The usual.”

The barista produced the local Starbucks version of tea, and he shuffled to an open table in the rear of the store.

Buddy worked on a crossword puzzle he’d downloaded from the New York Times site. The Jacksonville Times-Union was not known for complicated mind and word games. He enjoyed the few minutes he had to himself while he planned all the things he needed to complete in the next few days. Chiefly among them was finding a place suitable to deal with Donna’s sister, Cheryl. He’d blocked off a few hours this afternoon to see what he could do about that.

He glanced at his watch as he filled in the final word in the puzzle. It was “corpulent” for “a fancy fat man.” He didn’t solve it all in one sitting, but he’d done it in under twenty minutes. He didn’t think that was too bad.

From the corner of his eye he saw someone squeezing down a narrow part of the coffee shop to the table directly across from him, so he shifted in his seat. He casually let his gaze drift up and saw it was a nurse on her way into a shift at Shands. He did a double take when he saw the girl’s wide, beautiful features and light brown hair braided down the back. She may not have been the kind of girl who turned heads at a party or in the club, but to him she was everything he looked for in a woman. The fact that she was in the nursing profession enhanced her beauty twofold.

She plopped down with a large latte and a pastry, flipping through the Times-Union to the crossword. She glanced over to him and saw his completed crossword, saying, “That’s not from the local paper, is it?”

“New York Times. I downloaded it.”

“That’s a great idea. I don’t know why I waste my time on this silly thing, but I do it every day.” She smiled and said, “You look familiar.”

“I’m in here all the time and I’ll try to remember to bring in a crossword for you next time.”