The Perfect Scream (28 page)

 

 

 

The Daytona Police sergeant’s plan had worked beautifully. He’d sent the patrolman in a marked unit down the main road to attract the suspect’s attention. The sergeant and the motorman traffic cop had walked through the lot, then crept down below car level until they were almost on top of the Suburban. It looked like the suspect’s attention was still through the windshield. The sergeant pulled his issued Glock and motioned for the motorcycle cop to stay low behind the Cadillac parked next to the Suburban.

The sergeant was surprised when the door of the Suburban opened unexpectedly. Holy shit, the guy had a pistol in his hand. Out of instinct he shouted, “Police, don’t move.” In an instant he let his eyes scan behind the suspect to make sure there were no pedestrians or cars on the access road or in the field. The suspect turned, looking as shocked as the cops, but he still had the pistol.

The sergeant knew he didn’t have time to give another command and let his training take over. At this range he only focused on the front sight of the pistol, tried to breathe naturally and squeezed the trigger of his forty-caliber. He fired twice at the man’s chest. Center mass. He’d had to explain to too many people, at too many parties, that shooting the gun out of someone’s hand was just a Hollywood invention.

On the other side of the Cadillac the motorcycle cop also fired. But he kept pulling the trigger. It sounded like an automatic weapon even though he was firing the same model Glock. It seemed like it went on forever with the sound hammering his eardrums. Finally there was silence.

The sergeant stepped from behind the trunk of the Cadillac. The suspect was flat on his back and made one wheezing sound as he went limp. He’d been hit at least five times in the chest. The sergeant did a quick look to see where all of the motorman’s extra rounds had gone. There were at least three holes in the open door of the Suburban.

The other patrolman in the marked Dodge Charger had jumped the curb and was racing across the open field toward them.

The sergeant took a deep breath to calm himself, pulled the radio microphone off his shoulder, and hesitated, knowing whatever he said would be recorded. This was an opportunity to show how cool he was under stress. He depressed the mic button and said, “Clear traffic, clear traffic. We have a signal zero, shots fired and a suspect down in the parking lot of the hospital.” It would have been the perfect thing to say if his voice hadn’t cracked up two octaves to make it sound like he’d been breathing helium. Damn it.

I
t had taken most of the day and three separate buses coming up US 1, but Lynn was now back at her car in the front parking lot of the Thomas Brothers supply company. She was lucky she’d parked in a lot that didn’t require an access card. No one would even notice her car. If anyone did, she’d claim a dead battery and giggle like she didn’t know what she was supposed to do about it.

No one had seen her leave with Leon. She’d been careful about that earlier in the morning. After her surprise at learning Alan Cole had died, she was startled by the commotion in the parking lot with police cars arriving every minute. She casually waited inside until she heard the security guard telling a nurse the police had killed someone in the parking lot. She knew exactly who the victim was. She wondered if Leon was wanted or if it was related to her mission. She’d find out soon enough. Lynn was surprisingly unconcerned about the whole situation. In fact, she felt lighter and happier than she’d felt in some time.

Lynn had come to the concrete decision that no matter what happened she was done with her mission. Bobby Hollis had suffered and could be forgotten. She hoped. That left her free to pursue whatever she wanted. It could be a domestic life raising kids or going back to school and learning to do something else. She was pretty certain she didn’t want to be a bookkeeper the rest of her life.

Once she was out of the Thomas Brothers Supply lot, she turned toward the interstate. She decided to visit her parents unannounced.

Just the idea made her smile.

 

 

 

Stallings sat next to Patty at the conference table in the D-bureau. He felt like he often did when one of these cases was resolved. He was exhausted. The physical and mental drain always caught him on that final day. Now it was up to Mazzetti to do the real work and piece everything together, but knowing the crafty New Yorker, he’d find a way to clear virtually every unsolved homicide in the history of the county. Leon Kines would be responsible for murders that had occurred before he was born if Mazzetti had his way.

Mazzetti was already trying to determine Bill Hickam’s role in the killings. Initial assessments indicated that Leon Kines had acted alone. The DEA could find no contact between the two men. That helped a lot.

Everything had come together so quickly, Stallings had not digested all the information.

Sergeant Zuni stood at the end of the table, saying, “They could use this at the police academy to show how little details lead into big breaks in the case. We’ve had three analysts running all types of information since Kines was shot in the parking lot of the hospital. We’ve gotta get everything together in case the Daytona cops let something slip at their news conference. We’re all hoping to keep this as quiet as possible.”

The sergeant looked down at some notes and Stallings realized she was going to tell them everything she couldn’t say in front of the cameras.

The sergeant said, “Kines worked for Josh Hickam’s father. He was doing time in Atlanta for smuggling pot and was released to a halfway house just before one of the fraternity brothers died in the fire in Atlanta. He came back to Jacksonville one month before the shooting of the auto parts store manager. Even though he used a different gun, the time line matches up perfectly. We have him in the Suburban for the St. Augustine hit-and-run of Zach Halston.” The sergeant looked up at the attentive detectives. “We’re hoping to get more records from Thomas Brothers Supply showing that he had the Suburban on the day Alan Cole was struck. The problem is the record-keeping at the company is very shoddy.”

Mazzetti clapped his hands together and, with a big smile, said, “Looks like it’s another case closed, nice and neat.”

Patty gave him a scowl that shut him up.

The sergeant nodded and said, “Command staff hasn’t determined how we’re going to approach the case or what we intend to tell the media about the activities of Kines. None of you are authorized to talk about it. Is that clearly understood?” She let her green eyes meet everyone at the table. There were nods and mumbles of agreement all around.

Patty sighed and pushed away from the table as the meeting broke up. She turned to Stallings and said, “This is one Saturday night I’m glad I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Earlier she’d told Stallings about her quick and painless breakup with the podiatrist. He noticed she had said the last comment loud enough for Tony Mazzetti to hear. By the look on his face, the homicide detective wasn’t disappointed in the news.

Patty said, “What about you, any plans tonight?”

“I’m going to sleep and sleep hard.”

“You earned it clearing up a case like this so quickly and completely.”

Stallings nodded, but he wasn’t convinced it was so completely cleared up. Something didn’t feel right.

I
t was midafternoon Sunday and Tony Mazzetti noticed that Lisa Kurtz had hardly spoken to him since they had gone out to lunch at a local sports bar. Maybe she wasn’t used to the letdown after a case was broken. He’d have plenty to do in the next few weeks, but at least no one was in danger now. Lisa seemed disappointed she was completely left out of the final aspects of the case.

It felt weird to be around the talkative medical examiner when she was in a quiet and contemplative mood. He wasn’t sure he liked it any better or worse. They’d gone out Saturday night, but it had felt more like something they both expected to do rather than something either of them wanted to do. She had worn simple jeans and a blouse to go to the movies and dinner and had shown no inclination to take them off afterwards. That had been fine with Mazzetti, who was also tired after the case had been wrapped up.

She sat on his couch and made no comment while he stroked her bare foot in his lap. Mazzetti said, “You wanna watch some football?”

She looked up, smiled at him, and said, “No thanks.” She had her shoes back on and was at his front door before he could even ask her where she was going. She mumbled a quick, “See you later,” as the door shut behind her.

Mazzetti shrugged, put the TV on CBS, and hoped the Jaguars had sold out the stadium so he could watch the game from the comfort of his living room.

 

 

 

Stallings pulled up to the house just as the sun was setting on Sunday evening. His long night of uninterrupted sleep and then a day spent with his kids bowling at the new lanes down in Deerwood Park had reenergized him like nothing he could remember. Charlie and Lauren seemed to enjoy their regular Sunday visit. As the kids slid out of his car he decided he needed to see Maria. He had no idea what kind of mood she’d be in or if she even wanted to talk to him.

He’d been surprised how little news there was of the shooting of Leon Kines. The Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office had let the Daytona Police make the announcement. The official story was the police officers shot a suspicious person who pulled a gun on them. They had a booking photograph of Kines and made sure to mention that he had spent time in prison. On the face of it there didn’t appear to be much to the story that reporters would care about. Leon Kines’s secrets would apparently go to the grave with him.

Stallings felt like he was sneaking into a concert as he followed the kids through the front door without announcing himself. It seemed the least awkward of his options. Charlie immediately raced upstairs and Lauren plopped down in front of the TV. Maria stepped in from the back porch with a book in her hand and her hair in disarray like she had dozed off reading. She offered him a smile.

Maria motioned him out to the back porch, where they sat in matching lounge chairs. Maria said, “Did your father go bowling with you?”

Stallings nodded. “The old coot is a good bowler too.”

“It looks like the kids had fun.”

Stallings nodded, appreciating the few quiet moments with his estranged wife.

Maria stayed quiet for another second, then said, “I’m sorry I’ve held so many things inside. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you directly about Patty. I know it’s stupid and it was my own issue. Brother Ellis seemed like a good person to talk to. I’m sorry that it caused you any concern at all.”

Stallings said, “I wish we didn’t have any secrets.”

“It was secrets that almost ruined us.”

Stallings looked off in space and nodded slowly.

Maria said, “I know that look. What’s bothering you?”

Stallings hesitated, completely torn on what he should say or do. Finally he sat up in the lounger and turned toward her. He reached into his back pocket where he kept the photo of Zach Halston and Jeanie folded in his wallet. He swallowed hard and said, “I have a secret we need to talk about.”

L
ynn sat at the cluttered desk in her office that was less cluttered because she’d spent two days staying occupied by going through file cabinets and stacks of documents to see what could be discarded. Every time there’d been a knock at her door she tensed, wondering if the police had come to arrest her.

The police had questioned her father and his connection to Leon, but they seemed satisfied her dad had no idea what was happening. She was prepared to step forward if the pressure was too much.

She’d heard through the rumor mill at Thomas Brothers Supply that Leon had pulled a pistol and that was why he was shot by the police in Daytona. She’d also heard he was wanted for the hit-and-run that killed Zach Halston in St. Augustine. Even though Larry ran a messy office, she worried about someone finding the vehicle log where she checked out the Suburban the day she hit Alan Cole. It wasn’t difficult to slip in and remove the vehicle log. She hadn’t even brought it back to this office. She used the main office’s shredder to dispose of the paperwork once and for all.

Now, almost a week since Leon had been shot, she realized she’d literally gotten away with murder. Several times. Everyone had paid a price for Josh’s death except Bobby Hollis. And he could wait years. But for now she felt like a weight had been lifted off her. Even her parents seemed brighter. Lynn was ready for her life. The one she’d earned.

She signed off on some accounts receivable and started to think about lunch. She intended to leave the office today and eat with a couple of the girls from admin. There was a new Sweet Tomatoes that had opened down the street and Lynn planned to have a long, leisurely, healthy lunch.

A soft rap on her doorframe made her look up at a man, and it took her a moment to recognize him. She had seen him before, but it still took some time to register.

The man gave her a charming smile and said, “I’m John Stallings with the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office.” He held up a badge and flipped it open so she could see the identification card with his photograph. He didn’t say anything else. He just looked at her with a crooked smile on his face.

Lynn said, “May I help you?” It was calm and professional on the outside, but she felt her heart rate increase and her stomach start to knot up.

Finally the detective said, “Thought you got away with it, didn’t you?”

Lynn forced herself to calmly shake your head and say, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“You almost did. But you’re not quite sneaky enough. You don’t think like a real criminal, and I admire that.”

Now she was smart enough to keep quiet. She didn’t want to give her position away and blurt out something stupid like,
I want to speak to my attorney
.

The detective casually stepped in the office and eased into the chair directly in front of her desk. He kept his eyes on her the whole time. Lynn had the clear feeling that if she made any sudden movements this man would take action.

The detective said, “My partner will be here in a minute. She was just checking a few things up in your administrative offices. I wanted to show you a photo and ask you a question first if you don’t mind.”

Lynn remained silent but nodded slightly.

The detective held up a creased photo of Zach Halston and a pretty young woman. Then he asked her something she didn’t expect.

“Do you know the young woman?”

Lynn shook her head, swallowing hard. She doubted she could speak even if she wanted to because her mouth was so dry.

The detective said, “I didn’t know how much time you spent with the fraternity brothers back when your brother was a member. I was hoping you might recognize the girl. It’s not related to our case in any way and you’ll have plenty of time to worry about that in the coming weeks. So forget I even asked about the girl.”

Lynn finally summoned up the courage to say, “Why do you think I did anything wrong?” It was generic enough that he couldn’t use it against her, but maybe she’d have an idea of what evidence they did have.

The detective said, “Leon Kines is a good scapegoat. His motives made sense, no one was going to stand up and fight for him, and it clears our case. But there were a couple of things that didn’t add up, and I did some checking.” He gave her a chance to say something or add a comment. She just kept staring at him.

He said, “The first thing that bothered me was the fact that Leon had a nine-millimeter with him when he was shot by the Daytona police and a thirty-eight was used to shoot the auto parts manager. I realize some people have more guns than they need, but a guy like Leon tends to stick with one. I also noticed your dad had a collection with several thirty-eights in it. We’ve got someone over at his house right now with the search warrant.

“Then I happened to notice your name on the company employees list. That’s a big coincidence. I was able to subpoena your cell phone records. You made several calls down to the hospital in Daytona.” He paused and waited for a response.

Lynn felt like she was going to vomit.

The detective shrugged and kept going. “We had always assumed that a woman was with Connor Tate and that was the only reason he’d drink something with so many pills crushed in it. Then there is the case of Kyle Lee.”

Lynn looked up and wanted to say something. The cop noted her attention.

“Do you remember being stopped for speeding by a patrolman near the marina?” He paused for effect.

Lynn kept still and quiet.

“He didn’t ticket you, but he made a note of the stop. That’s the kind of circumstantial evidence that stacks up in court. Then there are the other little details like the paper you used to start the fire in Atlanta. It was the
Jacksonville Times-Union
. Leon wasn’t allowed to leave Atlanta without checking with his parole officer. If he started that fire, where did he get a newspaper from Jacksonville? He could do it, it just seems unlikely.”

Lynn swallowed again and realized her hand was shaking, giving her away.

“The last thing,” the cop stated in that same even voice, “ketamine. It was too obscure. The fact that you work in a vet’s office in the evenings, and have access to it, gave us enough for the search warrant for your father’s guns as well as giving me a chance to talk to you.” He looked at her like he expected her to say something.

The detective said, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you expected.”

Now Lynn found her voice and said, “No, they worked out about like I thought.” She still was oddly unconcerned. Did that make her a sociopath?

She wondered if that might make a good defense.