“White, Porter, get out of here and get back to the station,” Nelson said.
“But sir,” Mackenzie said, “we still need to – ”
“Just do as I say,” he said. “You two are the leads on this case and if the media gets a whiff of that, they’ll constantly be on your asses and slow you down. Now get out of here.”
It was a sensible train of thought and Mackenzie did as she was asked. But as she headed back to the car with Porter, another thought occurred to her. She turned back to Nelson and said: “Sir, I think we should have the wood tested, on this pole and the last one. Get a sample and have it analyzed. Maybe the kind of wood being used for these posts could lead us to something.”
“Damn good thinking, White,” he said. “Now haul ass.”
Mackenzie did just that as she saw two more pairs of headlights trailing in behind the first set. The first set belonged to a news van with WSQT written on the side. It had just parked on the far side of the police cars. A reporter and a cameraman came bustling out and Mackenzie instantly thought of them as vultures circling a fresh kill.
As she got into the car, taking the driver’s seat again, another member of the news crew got out of the van and started snapping pictures. Mackenzie was mortified to see that the camera was pointed in her direction. She lowered her head, got into the car, and started the engine. As she did, she saw that three officers were already storming toward the news van, Nelson in the center. Still, the reporter did her best to bully her way forward.
They took off, but Mackenzie knew it was already too late.
Come tomorrow, her picture would be on the front page of all the papers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As it turned out, Nelson had been wrong about the FBI. Mackenzie got the call at 6:35 in the morning requesting that she drive to the airport to pick up an agent that had flown in. She’d had to hurry, as the flight arrived at 8:05, and was embarrassed that she’d have to make a first impression without even having time to fix her hair.
Her hair, though, was the least of her concerns as she sat in the uncomfortable airport chair, waiting at the gate. She was pounding down a cup of coffee, hoping to push her mind beyond caring that her body had only managed five hours of sleep the night before. It was her third cup of the morning and she knew she’d get the jitters if she didn’t slow down. But she couldn’t afford to be tired and sloppy.
She reviewed everything in her head as she waited for the agent to get off the plane, recircling the gruesome scene from the night before. She couldn’t help but feel as if she had missed something. Hopefully, the FBI agent would be able to help get them on a clearer path.
Nelson had e-mailed her the agent’s dossier, which she had read quickly while eating a breakfast of a banana and a bowl of oatmeal. Because of this, Mackenzie spotted the agent right away as he stepped off the jet bridge and into the airport. Jared Ellington, thirty-one years old, a Georgetown graduate with a background that included a stint in profiling in counterterrorism cases. His black hair was slicked back as it had been in his picture and the telltale suit he wore painted him as someone on official duty.
Mackenzie walked across the gate to meet him. She hated the fact that she kept going back to her stupid hair. She felt frazzled and out of sorts, having been rushed earlier in the morning. More than that, she had never really cared much about first impressions and had never been the sort of person to worry too much about her appearance. So why now?
Maybe it was because he was from the FBI, an agency she revered. Or maybe it was because, despite herself, she was struck by his looks. She hated herself for that, not only because of Zack, but because of the urgent and gruesome nature of their work.
“Agent Ellington,” she said, extending her hand, forcing her tone to be as professional as possible. “I’m Mackenzie White, one of the detectives on the case.”
“Good to meet you,” Ellington said. “Your chief tells me you’re the lead detective on the case. Is that right?”
She did her best to hide her shock but nodded.
“That’s correct,” she said. “I know you just got off the plane, but we need to hurry and get you to the station.”
“Of course,” he said. “Lead the way.”
She led him through the airport and back out to the parking lot. They were silent during the walk and Mackenzie took the time to size him up. He seemed a little relaxed, not stiff and rigid like the few Bureau guys she’d encountered. He also seemed very serious and intense. He had a much more professional air than any of the men she worked with.
As they drove onto the interstate, fighting through morning airport traffic, Ellington started scrolling through a series of e-mails and documents on his phone.
“Tell me, Detective White,” he said, “what sort of person do you think we’re looking for? I’ve looked through the notes that Chief Nelson sent me and I have to say that you seem pretty sharp.”
“Thanks,” she said. Then, quick to dismiss the compliment, she added: “As for the type of person, I’m thinking it stems from abuse. When you consider that the victims were not sexually abused, yet stripped to their underwear, it indicates that these are murders based on some need for revenge on some woman that wronged him earlier in life. So I think it might be a man that is embarrassed by sex or, at the very least, finds it gross.”
“I see you have not ruled out religious contexts,” Ellington said.
“No, not yet. The very nature of how he displays them has obvious crucifixion overtones. Plus the fact that the women he’s killing are all representations of male lust makes it hard to rule out.”
He nodded, still scrolling through his phone. She cast glances in his direction as she made her way through traffic and was struck by how handsome he was. It wasn’t obvious at first, but there was something very plain yet rugged about Ellington. He’d never be a leading man but would make an attractive addition to the hero’s team.
“I know this seems rude,” he said, “but I’m trying to make sure I’m well-versed in this. As I’m sure you know, I was called in on this case less than six hours ago. It’s been a whirlwind.”
“No, not rude at all,” Mackenzie said. She found it refreshing to be in a car with a man and not have the conversation be filled with sideways insults and sexism. “Do you mind if I ask what your initial thoughts on the killer are?”
“My big question is why he displays the bodies at all,” Ellington said. “It makes me think the murders aren’t just out of some personal vendetta. He wants people to see what he’s done. He wants to make a spectacle out of these women, which denotes that he’s proud of what he’s doing. I’d go so far as to guess that he feels he’s doing the world a favor.”
Mackenzie felt a stirring of excitement as they neared the precinct. Ellington was the polar opposite of Porter and seemed to have the same sort of approach to profiling as she did. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to freely share her thoughts with a co-worker without fear of being ridiculed or spoken down to. Already, she could tell that Ellington was easy to talk to and valued the opinions of others. And, quite frankly, it didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at.
“I feel like you’re on the right track,” Ellington said. “Between the two of us, I think we can nail this guy. Looking at the information about the knots, the fact that he drives a van or truck, and apparently uses the same weapon each time, there’s a lot to go on. I look forward to working with you on this, Detective White.”
“Likewise,” she said, catching another glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye as he continued to dutifully read through e-mails on his phone.
Her excitement continued to bloom; she felt a sense of motivation she had not felt toward her work in a very long time. She felt inspired, reinvigorated – and that things were about to change in her life.