just any reason.”
Sergeant Zuni caught a glimpse of the smugness that rubbed John Stallings and many of the other detectives the wrong way. Right now she didn’t much care for it either. She kept her mouth shut. She had to trust Lieutenant Hester to come to her aid before this got out of hand.
The lieutenant said in a very even tone, “What’d you find, Ronald?”
“I think Patty Levine is a plausible suspect in this theft.”
Sergeant Zuni almost sprang to her feet. “How in the hell did you reach that crazy conclusion?”
This time it was Bell who kept a very even tone. “At her last physical, Detective Levine listed the prescriptions she was currently taking. Those include Ambien and hydrocodone.”
The lieutenant said, “What is hydrocodone?”
“The most common drug you’d recognize from that generic name is Vicodin.”
Sergeant Zuni said, “So you’re telling me because she followed the rules and admitted to exactly which drugs she was legally prescribed, now you’re going to drag her name through the mud. That seems like pretty thin evidence to skewer a good cop on.”
“Another way to look at is that she knew there was a drug screen and decided that no one would check if she admitted it. She wrote on her own form that she only used the painkiller occasionally for back pain and never on duty. But that was more than two years ago. There’s no telling what her drug problem’s like now.”
Sergeant Zuni kept her mouth shut. Like a mother tiger, her first instinct was to protect her cub. She needed time to know how to go about that the best way. Finally she said, “So what happens now?”
Bell gave her that smug smile and said, “Think she’ll talk to me?”
Sergeant Zuni knew she’d wasted her entire weekend.
Lexie Hanover was excited and nervous. She’d only had two serious boyfriends in her entire life. Her first boyfriend, Elby Harris, had stayed with her three years until he graduated and went off to Auburn. She’d loved him and was not unhappy that she had lost her virginity to him. In the big scheme of things, losing your virginity on a king-size bed while his parents were out of town was not such a bad thing. It certainly wasn’t romantic, or at least how she had fantasized losing her virginity, but it was much better than the backseat of a Trans-Am or the bed of a pickup truck.
Lexie’s only other boyfriend was a guy named Chuck who had an adorable miniature Doberman he brought by the clinic. He was older than her, about twenty-seven, and had led her to believe he was crazy about her. He took her on a weekend to Savannah and out to dinner four different times. Somehow it had shocked Lexie to learn he was married and that was the reason he never took her back to his place. She tried not to let the experience jade her toward men. Lexie focused on how experienced he had been and how much she had enjoyed the things he did to her. It opened her eyes to the advantage of dating a man who was perhaps a little older and more mature. Maybe that’s why she was attracted to Buddy. So when he suggested she close her eyes while he stroked her neck, she listened
It was almost like a dream. Her whole body relaxed. She could drift off to sleep or turn into a wildcat on a second’s notice. She felt something on her throat. It was soft like cloth but heavier, but it wasn’t jewelry, it was too soon for extravagant gifts. As she drifted deeper into this wonderful state, she wondered what delightful trick he had in store for her.
She could feel his breath near her neck and it smelled fruity and fresh. Her whole body tingled with excitement and expectation.
Then something went drastically wrong. For a split second she thought she’d swallowed wrong. Lexie became disoriented and a violent jerk snapped her head. She was choking. She had no air at all.
As fast as it started, she could breathe again. She’d sucked in one breath and opened her eyes. Buddy was right next to her face with the homemade jar in his hand. Maybe he thought it would help funnel oxygen into her. Her mind raced with all the dreadful possibilities. Had she had a stroke? A brain hemorrhage? Some kind of heart attack?
Lexie tried to take another breath, but another sharp jerk cut off her wind. She realized it was a strap around her throat. It was Buddy. He was doing this.
Lexie saw him set the jar down on the ground. Then the pressure around her throat increased drastically and she realized he was using both hands on the strap to choke her. Why?
She struggled to stay conscious, her arms uselessly flailing against his; then she tried to dig her fingers under the cord around her neck. She didn’t know what to do or what she had done to cause this. She felt her consciousness slip away faster and faster as the room grew dim. The last thing she saw was Buddy’s pleasant smile.
THIRTY-TWO
John Stallings sat in the doctor’s office next to his mother on a small couch while his father reclined in a chair next to the wide, dark oak desk. He felt his mother’s small, trembling hand reach across the short gap between them to grab his. As soon as the doctor bustled into his office, Stallings knew what he was going to say. This was obviously not one of those doctors who could detach himself from the patient.
The middle-aged doctor, wearing almost comically thick glasses, tried to buy some time while looking through several pages of a lab report. Finally he looked, first at James Stallings, then over to John on the couch. He started to speak slowly, but it didn’t hide his New York accent.
“I’m afraid I have some very bad news. And I don’t believe in providing false hope. All the tests seemed to indicate …”
All Stallings heard was
Buddy had held the limp body of Lexie in his arms until he felt a change in her body temperature. He was comfortable on the floor of her tiny apartment with her head in his lap and her smooth arms neatly at her sides. He had done nothing lewd or inappropriate as he tried to reassure her that this was for the best and she’d now be recognized for all eternity.
He looked over to the small glass jar he’d set back on a windowsill and smiled, knowing he had another piece of his work of art completed. He’d been careful not to move from this area of the apartment and slid away from her like he was trying to keep from waking her up. He took the jar and glanced around. There was nothing that indicated he’d been in the apartment. He knew the cops had a way of picking up flecks of skin or strands of hair, but he wasn’t that concerned about it anymore.
Buddy leaned down, lifted Lexie into his arms, and carried her across the room to the old, ratty couch. He laid her out gently and placed a pillow under her head. He turned the TV on and put the volume high enough that someone might hear it if he leaned against the door. Buddy figured that would buy him a day or two.
He picked up the jar and made one more scan of the room, then looked at the peaceful image of Lexie. That’s how she’d be remembered until time itself ended.
It wasn’t dark outside yet, but Stallings had the impression it was late. The office was completely empty and he appreciated the few minutes of silence while he sat at his desk and stared at the framed photo of Jeanie. He picked up a photo of Leah Tischler and stared at it for a few minutes. What had happened to the teenager from the wealthy family who lived near the beach? Would they be torn apart by this like his family was torn apart by Jeanie’s disappearance? Had his father really seen his granddaughter, or was it the wishful thinking of a sick old man?
The doctor couldn’t have been less encouraging and his father couldn’t have been less interested in the diagnosis. Maybe it was his career in the military or his time on the streets, knowing that life was short and you shouldn’t have any regrets. Either way, his father’s Alzheimer’s seem to be taking more of a toll on Stallings than the old man.
Stallings looked across his desk at all the information on the Leah Tischler case. He played an MP3 of the girl singing in the choir of the Thomas School. Her mother had provided it, thinking it might motivate him more. She had
