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Authors: James Andrus
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the stink in Daytona a few years ago. Luckily no one ever tied it back to him. Cops generally didn’t stay hot on the trail of cases once the media died down.
Even the mementos weren’t alarming. Everyone had the odd piece of jewelry. It wasn’t like the crazy-assed killer here in Jacksonville a few years ago named Carl Cernick. He’d been caught because he had a finger from one of his victims. Crazy people caused all kinds of shit.
Now he looked across the floor and saw a blond head with hair that hung straight down a beautiful back with strong shoulders. Immediately his penis stiffened at the thought of finding more prey so quickly. He’d still have to cut her loose from the herd, but that usually wasn’t a problem. Especially since here, where no one knew him, he didn’t have to be quite so careful.
He eased along the edge of the floor to get a look at her and see whom she was with. She had a long, lithe body and swayed to the beat unlike a lot of girls. He liked that. He’d already seen an emerald ear stud that would make a great memento. His heart began to beat faster, sharpening all his animal instincts. He edgedcloser, realizing that the girl was here with a couple of friends. The easiest possible target.
Then she turned and saw him. He paused to let her take in his full image. She smiled as he expected, but then his heart sank. In the light he could see she had brown eyes. Dark brown eyes.
He turned, deflated enough to simply leave alone.
Stallings ducked the two-by-four that would’ve cracked his skull, then dodged a brick from another direction. He stayed low and dove behind a thick pine tree and called out, “Not very friendly of you.”
Another brick bounced off the tree trunk.
Stallings yelled. “I’m a cop, and the next motherfucker that chucks something at me is gonna get his ass kicked. Is that clear?” He raised his voice and took off the friendly edge.
There was silence and an absence of projectiles.
He peeked from behind the tree, showing his badge as he did. He took another look, accounting for all ten men. Then he stepped out and said, “That’s better.”
No one spoke at first. Then an older man in the back said, “What are you hassling us for all the way out here?”
“Hassling you! You’re the ones who tried to take my head off.”
“This is our camp. We don’t bother no one.” The others nodded in agreement.
“I heard one of you might have something I need.”
“What?” asked a couple of them at the same time.
“A cell phone. A red cell phone.” He searched the faces in the group to see if anyone flinched or gave it away.
Everyone stayed calm.
“I expected this kind of response and was ready.” Stallings already had Allie’s number in his phone and pressed send. In a few seconds he heard the beat to a song that was also a ring tone. All the heads started turning until one man was the focus of the entire crowd.
The heavy, older white man rolled onto his knees in an attempt to spring up and flee, but Stallings was standing next to him and had to help him up to his feet.
Stallings said, “Looks like we need to talk.”
Twelve
Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office Detective John Stallings sat with the old man from the woods, drinking stale 7-11 coffee and munching on hard, dry donuts. For his part, the old man appreciated the way Stallings had dealt with him and seemed to be enjoying not only the refreshments but the show as well.
They watched two JSO crime scene techs recover and process Allie Marsh’s purse and a shirt that may or may not have belonged to the girl. The old man, after taking a few minutes to decide if he could trust the JSO detective, had told Stallings he had heard the phone ringing as he passed the Dumpster, reached in, and retrieved it. He hadn’t used it because he really didn’t have anyone to call and only answered once, which was when Stallings had called. The story had checked out, and Stallings didn’t believe the old man had
Even the mementos weren’t alarming. Everyone had the odd piece of jewelry. It wasn’t like the crazy-assed killer here in Jacksonville a few years ago named Carl Cernick. He’d been caught because he had a finger from one of his victims. Crazy people caused all kinds of shit.
Now he looked across the floor and saw a blond head with hair that hung straight down a beautiful back with strong shoulders. Immediately his penis stiffened at the thought of finding more prey so quickly. He’d still have to cut her loose from the herd, but that usually wasn’t a problem. Especially since here, where no one knew him, he didn’t have to be quite so careful.
He eased along the edge of the floor to get a look at her and see whom she was with. She had a long, lithe body and swayed to the beat unlike a lot of girls. He liked that. He’d already seen an emerald ear stud that would make a great memento. His heart began to beat faster, sharpening all his animal instincts. He edgedcloser, realizing that the girl was here with a couple of friends. The easiest possible target.
Then she turned and saw him. He paused to let her take in his full image. She smiled as he expected, but then his heart sank. In the light he could see she had brown eyes. Dark brown eyes.
He turned, deflated enough to simply leave alone.
Stallings ducked the two-by-four that would’ve cracked his skull, then dodged a brick from another direction. He stayed low and dove behind a thick pine tree and called out, “Not very friendly of you.”
Another brick bounced off the tree trunk.
Stallings yelled. “I’m a cop, and the next motherfucker that chucks something at me is gonna get his ass kicked. Is that clear?” He raised his voice and took off the friendly edge.
There was silence and an absence of projectiles.
He peeked from behind the tree, showing his badge as he did. He took another look, accounting for all ten men. Then he stepped out and said, “That’s better.”
No one spoke at first. Then an older man in the back said, “What are you hassling us for all the way out here?”
“Hassling you! You’re the ones who tried to take my head off.”
“This is our camp. We don’t bother no one.” The others nodded in agreement.
“I heard one of you might have something I need.”
“What?” asked a couple of them at the same time.
“A cell phone. A red cell phone.” He searched the faces in the group to see if anyone flinched or gave it away.
Everyone stayed calm.
“I expected this kind of response and was ready.” Stallings already had Allie’s number in his phone and pressed send. In a few seconds he heard the beat to a song that was also a ring tone. All the heads started turning until one man was the focus of the entire crowd.
The heavy, older white man rolled onto his knees in an attempt to spring up and flee, but Stallings was standing next to him and had to help him up to his feet.
Stallings said, “Looks like we need to talk.”
Twelve
Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office Detective John Stallings sat with the old man from the woods, drinking stale 7-11 coffee and munching on hard, dry donuts. For his part, the old man appreciated the way Stallings had dealt with him and seemed to be enjoying not only the refreshments but the show as well.
They watched two JSO crime scene techs recover and process Allie Marsh’s purse and a shirt that may or may not have belonged to the girl. The old man, after taking a few minutes to decide if he could trust the JSO detective, had told Stallings he had heard the phone ringing as he passed the Dumpster, reached in, and retrieved it. He hadn’t used it because he really didn’t have anyone to call and only answered once, which was when Stallings had called. The story had checked out, and Stallings didn’t believe the old man had
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