They spent the drive to Lincoln going back and forth on possible theories. Why kill vagrants? Why wait so long to start killing again? Why Ben White, Mackenzie's father? Were there others before Ben White who had simply not been discovered?
There were far too many questions and basically zero answers. And while Mackenzie usually hated to speculate, it was sometimes the only tool to use when the real world offered you nothing. It seemed even more necessary now that she was back in Nebraska. It was a deceptively large state and without solid leads, speculation was all they had to go on.
Well, there was one lead but it seemed to be a phantom: business cards with the name of a nonexistent business on it. Which did them no good.
Mackenzie kept thinking about the business card as they made their way to Lincoln. It had to serve some purpose, even if it was nothing more than some elaborate riddle that the killer was asking them to unravel. She knew that there were a few people back in DC who had been consistently trying to crack such a code (if there was indeed one to be cracked) but they had come up with nothing so far.
The business cards on each body so far only pointed to one teasing conclusion: the killer wanted them to know each murder was his work. He wanted the authorities to keep count, to know what he was responsible for. It spoke of a killer who took pride not only in what he was doing, but also in the fact that he was sending the FBI in circles trying to find him.
This frustration was ripe in Mackenzie's mind as Ellington parked their car in front of the Scotts residence. They lived in an upper-middle-class home in the kind of neighborhood where all of the houses were built to resemble one another. The lawns were trimmed perfectly, and even as they got out of the car and headed for the Scotts's front door, Mackenzie spotted two dogs being walked by masters that were busy scrolling through their phones while they walked.
Based on the case files, Mackenzie knew the basics about Jimmy Scotts's wife, Kim. She worked from home as a technical writer for a software company and her kids were at school every day until 3:45. She had moved to Lincoln a month after Jimmy's death, stating that everything about Morrill County was nothing more than a devastating reminder of the life she had once lived with her husband.
It was 3:07 when Mackenzie knocked on the door. She'd love to be in and out without having to drag the kids through conversations and memories of their deceased father. According to the reports, the oldest of the two girls, a promising junior in high school, had taken the death especially hard.
A strikingly pretty middle-aged woman answered the door. She looked confused at first but then, perhaps after she took in their attire, seemed to understand who was on her doorstep and why they were there.
She frowned a bit before asking: "Can I help you?"
"I'm Agent White, and this is Agent Ellington, with the FBI," Mackenzie said. "I do apologize, but we were hoping you might be able to answer a few questions about your husband."
"Seriously?" Kim Scotts asked. "I've put this behind me. So have my daughters. I'd really rather not head back down that road if it can be helped. So thank you, but no."
She started to close the door on them but Mackenzie held out a hand. She stopped the door from closing, but not using much force.
"I understand that you've done your best to put it all behind you," she said. "Unfortunately, the killer has not. He's killed at least five others since your husband was killed." She nearly included the fact that there was a good chance that the killer had also killed her father nearly twenty years ago but decided to keep it to herself.
Kim Scotts opened her door back up. Instead of inviting them inside, though, she came out onto the porch. Mackenzie had seen this approach before. Kim was choosing to keep any and all conversation about her dead husband outside of the four walls of her home.
"So what do you think I can offer?" Kim asked. "I went through this at least three times after Jimmy died. I don't have any new information."
"Well, the bureau does," Mackenzie said. "For starters, after your husband and one other man, it appears that the killer took an interest in vagrants. He's killed four that we know of so far. Do you know of any connections Jimmy might have had with the homeless community?"
The question apparently baffled her. The expression on her face was one of confusion and annoyance. "No. The closest he would have come to being involved with the homeless was taking the clothes he had grown tired of to the Salvation Army. We do that twice a year to free up closet space."
"What about people he worked with? Do you know if any of them might have had connections with homeless people or maybe even just those in dire need?"
"Doubtful. It was just him and two other guys that ran a small marketing company. Don't get me wrong…Jimmy was always a compassionate guy but he-neither of us, for that matter, ever really got into community involvement."
Mackenzie searched and searched for her next question but it would not come to her. She was now fairly confident that Jimmy Scotts had been randomly targeted. No reason, no motive, just the unfortunate luck to have been seen and apparently followed by the killer. This also made her think that maybe the deaths of Gabriel Hambry, Dennis Parks, and her father were also random.
Well, maybe not. There's a connection between my dad and Dennis Parks. So if they aren't random, why would the others be?
"What about your daughters?" Ellington asked, picking up the thread. "Are they perhaps involved in some sort of community outreach projects at school or something?"
"No," Kim said. The look on her face made it clear that she did not like viewing her daughters in light of this killer at all.
"You mentioned that your husband worked with a few friends at a marketing company. Do you know if they ever had any clients that might have been tied to some sort of community outreach?"
"That I don't know. If they did, it would have been a small project. Jimmy only ever talked about the big projects. But if you like, I have copies of all of their invoices. Somehow all of that came to me when he died. I can get them for you if you like."
"That would be helpful," Mackenzie said.
"One moment, please," Kim said. She walked back inside, closing the door behind her and still not inviting them in.
"Good call on the clients," Ellington said. "You think anything will come of it?"
She shrugged. "It can't hurt."
"That could be a lot of digging," he pointed out.
"Yeah. But that will give us something to do on that six-hour drive out to Morrill County."
"Fun."
Kim came back out onto the porch with five large folders all stacked together and held in place with binders and a huge rubber band. "Honestly," she said, "I'm glad to get rid of it. But if it's not asking too much, could you let me know if you find anything? I might have tried putting his death behind me, but that doesn't mean the mystery of it all doesn't drive me nuts sometimes."
"Absolutely," Mackenzie said. "Mrs. Scotts, thank you for your time and cooperation."
Kim gave them both a brief nod and stood there as they made their way back down the steps and toward the car. Mackenzie could feel the widow's eyes on her, making sure no mention of her deceased husband made it inside her house. Kim did not relax her posture until both Mackenzie and Ellington were in the car.
"Poor woman," Ellington said. "You think she's really moved on?"
"Maybe. She says she's moved on but she wasn't about to let us into her house. She didn't want mention of his death in there."
"But at the same time," he said, hefting the folders she'd handed them, "she seemed pleased to be rid of these."
"Maybe she also wants to remove reminders of him from the house, too," she said.
They pulled away from the house, the car pointed in the direction of the interstate. They were both quiet, almost in a respectful silence of the grieving widow they had just spoken to.
***
They were back at the field office just as the nine-to-five workers were packing up for the day. Mackenzie wondered what it was like to have a clock command your time rather than the pressing worries that came with the sordid cases she often found herself tasked with. She didn't think she'd be able to handle it.
She and Ellington met up with Penbrook in the same conference room they had visited that morning. It had been a long day, the early flight out of DC making it an early one, too. But knowing the next step in their process, Mackenzie found herself energized and ready to get moving again.
They filled Penbrook in on their talk with Kim Scotts and took some time to read through the invoices she had given them. It was done quickly, almost as an obligatory sort of exercise.
"What about here on the home front?" Ellington asked. "Any developments?"
"None," Penbrook said. "Quite honestly, I'd love to hear what you two have. I understand this case is close to you, Agent White. What's our next step?"
"I want to go out to Morrill County. It's where my father and Jimmy Scotts were both killed. And since my father's death seems to have been the first in this line, I think that's the best place to start."
"Looking for what, exactly?" Penbrook asked.
"I don't know yet."
"But don't let that fool you," Ellington told him. "She gets some of her best results when she goes in without a clue to what she's looking for."
She cut him a sly smile and returned her attention back to Penbrook. "I grew up in a town called Belton. I'm going to start there. I'll know the next step when it presents itself."
"If that's what you want to do, I won't try to dissuade you," Penbrook said. "But Morrill County is what…like six hours away?"
"I don't mind the driving," she said. "It'll be fine."
"When will you leave?"
"Maybe soon. If I can get out of here by six, that'll place me in Belton by midnight."
"Well, happy trails then," Penbrook said. He seemed disappointed and a little pissed off. Mackenzie assumed this was because he had been under the impression that she and Ellington were going to be by his side until the case was wrapped.
Making no real attempt to mask his feelings, Penbrook headed for the door. Barely looking over his shoulder at them, he gave a perfunctory wave. "Let us know if you need anything."
Once Penbrook had closed the door behind him, Mackenzie let out a sigh. "Wow," she said. "He really didn't take that very well, did he?"
Ellington took a moment to think of his response. When he did finally say something, his voice was low and measured. "I think I understand where he's coming from, though."
"How's that?" Mackenzie asked.
"The most recent deaths have all been around Omaha. To go all the way to the other end of the state seems like a needless errand."
"Everything started there," she said. "It just makes sense."
She could tell he wanted to get out of his seat and come to her-maybe to hug her or take her hands in his own. But he had worked hard on drawing the line between professionalism and their love life. Therefore, he remained in his seat.
"Look," he said. "I understand how much this case means to you. And I know you well enough to know that you won't stop until it's over. And if you want to head out to Belton, then I think you should. But…I think maybe I need to stay here."
She had never even considered going back to her hometown alone. She'd done it a little over a year ago but that had been different. Back then, she'd not had the support of Ellington to fall back on.
Apparently, her hurt and disappointment showed on her face because Ellington then did get out of his chair. He came to her and stepped directly in front of her. He took one of her hands, holding it lightly.
"I want to go. I do. But we've made this mistake before. We travel off somewhere that isn't central to the investigation only to realize when we come back that something monumental has happened. With this one, I don't think we can afford to do that. If you feel pulled out to Morrill County, then go. But I think I need to stay here at the field office. At the risk of coming off like a prick…this case isn't just about your dad. There are several dead bodies here in Omaha, too. Recent ones."
And of course he's right, she thought. But at the same time…why abandon me when I need him the most?
She nodded, though. She wasn't going to go all drama queen on him right now. Or ever, if she could help it. Besides…why should she be angry at him for successfully separating their professional relationship from their emotional one? She certainly wasn't doing a very good job of it at the moment.
"That makes sense," she said. "Maybe you can start canvassing the streets and talking to other vagrants."
"I was thinking the same thing. But look, Mac…if you want me with you…"
"No," she said. "I'm good. You're right. Let's do it your way."
She hated the fact that her disappointment was coming out. She knew he didn't doubt her instincts and she also knew that his approach of splitting up would be the most beneficial to the case. But she was headed back to her hometown to face demons she had only ignored and never truly put behind her. This was his first real chance to step up and show her the kind of man he could be for her.
But he was opting to be a better agent than a better boyfriend.
She understood it and, God help her, it made her fall for him a bit harder.
"I'm not stupid, Mac," he said. "You're mad. I can come with you. It's not a big deal."
"I'm not mad…not at you. I just hate the way this case is making me feel like two different people. But you're right. You need to stay here."
She gave him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth and headed for the door.
"You're leaving just like that?"
"It's better than prolonging it and getting even more upset, isn't it? I'll call you when I get a room."
"You're sure this is what you want?" he asked.
I don't know what I want, she thought. And that's the problem. Instead, she only said: "Yes. It's the smartest move and for the best. I'll talk to you around midnight."
With that, she left the conference room. It took everything in her not to turn around and explain to him that she had no idea why his suggestion of splitting up was bothering her so much. But instead, she forged on. She kept her eyes to the floor, not wanting to speak to anyone, as she headed to the AR desk to grab a car.
