Before He Takes. Блейк Пирс
set up by the state transportation department. So, White, I need you on a plane as soon as possible to get out there. Rural or not, the state obviously doesn’t want the road closed down for very long.”
McGrath then turned his attention to Harrison.
“Agent Harrison, I want you to understand something. Agent White has ties to the Midwest, so she was a no-brainer for this case. And while I have assigned you as her partner, I want you to stay here for this one. I want you here at headquarters to work behind the scenes. If Agent White calls with a research request, I want you on it. Not only that, but Delores Manning has an agent and publicist and all of that. So if this is not wrapped up quickly, the media will hop on it. I want you to handle that side of things. Keep things smooth and calm here at headquarters if the shit hits the fan. No offense, but I want a more experienced agent on this.”
Harrison nodded, but the disappointment in his eyes was impossible to miss. “No offense taken, sir. I’m happy to assist however I can.”
Oh no, Mackenzie thought. Not a brown-noser.
“So am I going solo on this?” Mackenzie asked.
McGrath grinned at her and shook his head. It was almost a playful kind of gesture that showed her that she had come a long way with McGrath since their first awkward and borderline hostile meetings.
“No way am I sending you out there by yourself,” he said. “I’ve arranged to have Agent Ellington work this one with you.”
“Oh,” she said, a bit stunned.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about this. There was a weird sort of chemistry between her and Ellington—there had been ever since she had first met him while working as a detective out of rural Nebraska. She had enjoyed working with him for that short span but now that things were different…well, it would make for an interesting case to say the least. But there was nothing to worry about. She felt confident that she could easily divide whatever personal feelings she had for him from the professional ones.
“Might I ask why?” Mackenzie asked.
“He’s got a brief history of working with the local field agents out there, as you know. He’s also got an impressive record when it comes to missing persons cases. Why?”
“Just asking, sir,” she said, easily recalling the first time she and Ellington had met when he had come out to assist with the Scarecrow Killer case when she was still working for the PD out there. “Did he…well, did he ask to work with me on this?”
“No,” McGrath said. “It just so happens that you’re both perfect for this case—him with his connections and you with your past.”
McGrath stood up from his chair, effectively ending the conversation. “You should be getting e-mails about your flight within a few minutes,” McGrath said. “I believe you’ll be flying out at eleven fifty-five.”
“But that’s only an hour and a half away,” she said.
“Then I suggest you get moving.”
She exited the office quickly, looking back only once to see Agent Harrison still sitting in his seat like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do or where to go. But she had no time to worry about his potentially hurt feelings. She had to figure out how to pack and get to the airport in less than an hour and a half.
And on top of that, she had to figure out why she dreaded the idea of working a case with Ellington.
CHAPTER TWO
Mackenzie arrived at the airport running, with barely enough time to reach her gate. She rushed onto the plane five minutes after the flight had started to board and ambled down the aisle slightly out of breath, frustrated and thrown off. She briefly wondered if Ellington had made it on time but, quite frankly, was just glad she had not missed the flight. Ellington was a big boy—he could take care of himself.
Her question was answered when she located her seat. Ellington was already on the plane, sitting comfortably in the seat beside hers. He smiled at her from his place by the window seat, giving her a little wave. She shook her head and sighed heavily.
“Bad day?” he asked.
“Well, it started with a funeral and then a meeting with McGrath,” Mackenzie said. “I then had to rush home to pack a bag and run through Dulles to barely make the flight. And it’s not even noon yet.”
“So things can only get better then,” Ellington joked.
Shoving her carry-on into the overhead compartment, Mackenzie said: “We’ll see. Say, doesn’t the FBI have private planes?”
“Yes, but only for extremely time-sensitive cases. And for superstar employees. This case is not time sensitive and we are most certainly not star employees.”
When she was finally in her seat, she took a moment to relax. She peered over at Ellington and saw that he was thumbing through a folder that was identical to the one she had seen in McGrath’s office.
“What do you think of this case?” Ellington asked.
“I think it’s too soon to speculate,” she said.
He gave her a roll of his eyes and a playful frown. “You’ve got to have some sort of first reaction. What is it?”
While she didn’t want to offer her thoughts only to be proven wrong later on, she appreciated the effort of jumping on things right away. It showed that he was indeed the hard worker and committed agent McGrath painted him to be—the same kind of worker she had kind of hoped he was.
“I think the fact that these are being called disappearances rather than murders gives us some hope,” she said. “But given that the victims are all being taken from rural roads also tells me that this guy is a local that knows the lay of the land. He could be kidnapping the women and then killing them, hiding their bodies somewhere in the forests or some other hiding spot only he knows about.”
“You read deep into this yet?” he asked, nodding at the folder.
“No. I haven’t had time.”
“Help yourself,” Ellington said, handing it over.
Mackenzie read over the scant information as the flight attendants walked through the safety lecture. She was still studying it moments later when the plane took off toward Des Moines. There wasn’t much information in the file, but enough for Mackenzie to map out an approach to take when they got there.
Delores Manning was the third woman to be reported missing in the past nine days. The first woman was a local, reported missing by her daughter. Naomi Nyles, forty-seven years of age, also taken from the side of the road. The second was a Des Moines woman named Crystal Hall. She had a slight record, mostly promiscuous stuff in her youth, but nothing serious. When she was abducted, she had been visiting a local cattle farm in the area. The first case had shown no traces of foul play—just an abandoned car on the side of the road. The second abandoned vehicle had been a small pickup truck with a busted tire. The truck had been discovered in the midst of having its tire changed, the jack still under the axle and the flat propped against the side of the truck.
All three instances appeared to have occurred during the night, sometime between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. So far, nine days after the first abduction, there was not a single shred of evidence and absolutely zero clues.
As she usually did, Mackenzie scanned the information several times, committing it to memory. It wasn’t hard in this case, as there wasn’t much to take in. She kept going back to the pictures of the rural settings—the back roads that wound through the forests like a massive snake with nowhere to go.
She also allowed herself to slip into the mind of a killer using those roads and the night as cover. He had to be patient. And because of the darkness, he had to be used to being by himself. Darkness would not concern him. He may even prefer to work in the darkness, not only for the cover but for the sense of solitude and isolation. This guy was probably a loner of some sort. He was taking them from the road, apparently in different stressful situations. Car