When Mackenzie entered the conference room, the place was abuzz. Nancy sat at her usual spot at the end of the table, divvying out the most updated reports on the Scarecrow Killer case. Policemen were taking their seats at the table, murmuring solemnly as if they were attending a funeral. As Mackenzie wedged her way to the front of the room where she saw Nelson speaking to another officer, she noticed that she was getting a lot of looks from the officers she passed. Some were still scowling at her as they had three days before in this very same room. But (and maybe this was her imagination) some were looking at her with genuine interest and, dare she say it, respect.
Nelson saw her coming and ended his conversation with the other officer right away. He put an arm around her and turned her away from the crowd that still continued to gather in the room. "This news," he said. "Is it going to net us an arrest within the next few hours?"
"I don't know," Mackenzie said. "But it can certainly narrow our search. It's going to bring us very close."
"Then you run this show," he said. "Can you do that?"
"Yes," she said, ignoring the pit of worry that bubbled up in her stomach.
"Well then, here we go," he said. With that, he turned to face the room and slapped his meaty hands down on the table several times. "Okay, everybody," he shouted. "Take a seat and zip your mouths," he said. "Mackenzie has a break in the case and you'll give her your full attention. Save any questions until she's done."
To Mackenzie's surprise, Nelson took one of the remaining chairs against the wall, pushed away from the large conference table. He looked to her and that was when she realized that it was all on her. Maybe it was a test or maybe Nelson was just at the end of his rope. Either way, this was her chance to grab this precinct by the balls and prove her worth.
She looked out to the room and saw Porter sitting among the faces. He gave her a quick smile, almost like he wanted to ensure no one else saw it. It was probably the sweetest thing he'd ever done for her and she found that Porter was starting to surprise her at every turn.
"I revisited one of the crime scenes this morning," Mackenzie explained. "While the visit itself did not reveal the break, it led me straight to it. As many of you know, each post the killer has strapped the women to has had two code-like groupings of letters and numbers: N511 and J202. After speaking with a pastor earlier today, I discovered that these are references to Numbers 5:11 and Joshua 20:2.
"The Numbers passage talks about an Old Testament approach to adultery. Any adulterous woman was brought to the priests and given what were called bitter waters. The thought was that the blessed water would curse adulterous women and would not affect a pure woman. In essence, it was the church's way of judging or accusing women thought to be unclean.
"As for the reference to Joshua, that passage refers to Cities of Refuge-cities that men could escape to if they had accidentally committed murder or killed to protect themselves, their families, or their people. In these Cities of Refuge, the murdered could not be prosecuted. In fact, it is said in the passage that all men residing in a City of Refuge would be spared from the avenger of blood.
"Now, according to the pastor I spoke with, there were six of the cities. And that leads me to believe that there are going to be at least three more murders."
"Why is that?" Nelson asked, disregarding his earlier rule of keeping all questions for the end.
"I believe the killer is killing these women to use them as a representation of each City of Refuge. And, as he is killing them, he believes he is taking on the role of the avenger of blood. More than that, he is, in a sense, building a city."
The room fell silent for a moment as they waited for her to explain. She turned to the wall behind her where a well-used whiteboard had recently been cleaned. She grabbed a marker and drew a crude map from memory, sketching out the map Pastor Simms had showed her in the church.
"These are the rough locations of the six cities," she said, placing large dots along her crude map. They made a crude oval shape, each city almost the same distance from one another.
"Now, if you were to take a map of the area containing the sites where we have found each of the bodies," she said, "it would resemble this almost exactly."
Right away, Nancy started typing something into her computer at the back of the table. Without looking up from her screen, she said, "I'll bring up a map," she said. "Lights, please."
The officer closest to the light switch hit the lights while another flipped on the projector that sat in the middle of the cluttered conference table. Mackenzie stepped to the side to allow the light to shine directly on the dry erase board.
Nancy had brought up the same map that was attached to the reports that she had handed out earlier. It showed each highway, secondary road, and town within a one-hundred-fifty-mile radius. On the map, three Xs had been placed where each of the victims had been found.
"While the locations don't line up perfectly," Mackenzie said, "they are extremely close in proximity. What this means is that if this isn't simply a coincidence-and at this point, I think it's clear that it is not-then we can pinpoint the rough location of where the next crime scene might be."
"How do we know which order he'll go in?" one of the officers at the table asked. "If there are three remaining, is there any guarantee he's going on geographical order?"
"No, there's no guarantee," Mackenzie admitted. "But so far, that's been the case."
"And are we still unsure about how he's selecting the victims?" Porter asked.
"That's being checked as we speak," Mackenzie said. "We have men checking in with the three strip clubs in that hundred-mile radius. But I think we also need to assume that he wouldn't look beyond prostitutes as well."
"What about these bitter waters?" someone else asked. "What kind of water is that?"
"I don't know for sure," Mackenzie said. "But we've already informed the coroner to check the stomach contents of the victims to see if there is anything out of the ordinary: poisons, chemicals, anything like that. I personally believe that it could just be holy water and if that's the case, it will be impossible to pinpoint it."
"You mean blessed water doesn't glow magically?" another officer asked. There were a few chuckles around the table.
"Hey," Nelson said, taking the front of the room again. He went to the board and grabbed a red marker. He circled the phantom area on the projected map that seemed to align the best with the fourth city on the map Mackenzie had drawn.
"I'm putting White in charge of locking down this area right here," he said. "I want at least eight available men out there within the next hour to take a survey of the place. Get a lay of the land, learn the roads, and stay on patrol within the area until you hear otherwise from me. Nancy, I need you to get on the phone with the State PD and request the use of a helicopter to sweep the area."
"Yes, sir," Nancy said.
"Another thing," Mackenzie said. "Unmarked cars only. The last thing we want is to tip this guy off."
Nelson considered this and she could tell something about it irritated him. "Well, with only four unmarked cars, that limits us. So I'm allowing patrol cars, but not to be parked or stationary. Now, with everything we now know, there's no excuse to not catch this guy before a fourth woman has to die. Any questions?"
No one said anything as everyone within the room got to their feet. There was a tingle of excitement in the air that Mackenzie could almost feel like a physical presence. Officers started to file out eagerly, sensing that the end of this wretched case was upon them. She knew the mentality; at this point, anyone could potentially have the chance to arrest the suspect. Although someone else (in this case, her) had made the connections and presented them with an endgame solution, it was anybody's ballgame now.
As Mackenzie headed for the door, Nelson stopped her. "That's some damn fine work, Mackenzie. And I'll tell you something else, too: Ellington was singing your praises when he got back to Quantico. I got a call from his director and they were complimenting you."
"Thanks."
"Now if I could just keep you from chasing down overweight online journalists and scaring the hell out of them, I think you'd have a promising career ahead of you. That Pope creep has had two different lawyers calling after you. I don't think he's going to leave this alone."
"Sorry, Chief," she said, meaning it.
"Well, push that to the back burner," Nelson said. "For now, let's concentrate on catching this killer. Journalists are almost as bad but at least Ellis Pope isn't stringing women up by poles and beating them to death."
She cringed internally at how lightheartedly Nelson was referring to the victims. It reminded her that, even in the midst of a sudden and unexpected stream of confidence and praise from the man, he was the same creature of habit he had been when she had first started working under him.
"And if it's okay with you," he said, "I'm driving up with you. If I've put you in charge of this scene, I'd like to be your wingman."
"Sure," she said, instantly hating the idea.
As they walked out of the conference room, she looked around for Porter. It was funny in an ironic sort of way how much she'd prefer to share a car with Porter as this case drew to a close. Maybe it was familiarity or just the fact that she still felt like Nelson was a little too much of a chauvinist to take her seriously, despite praises from the FBI.
But Porter had gotten lost in the shuffle and excitement as everyone had filed out of the conference room. She did not see him in the hallway as she stopped by her office to retrieve her badge and gun and he was nowhere to be found in the parking lot.
Nelson met her at the car and it wasn't even a question of who would drive. He instantly got behind the wheel and seemed very impatient as he waited for her to get into the passenger seat and buckle her seat belt. She did her best to hide her irritation but thought it really didn't matter. Nelson was so caught up in the prospect of catching the Scarecrow Killer that she was basically an afterthought-just the cog in the mostly man-driven machine that had brought them this far.
Suddenly, Ellington's suggestion of trying to get into the FBI seemed more appealing than ever.
"Ready to catch this asshole?" Nelson asked as they pulled out of the parking lot behind two patrol cars.
Mackenzie bit at her bottom lip to hide the sarcastic smile that tried to spread there and said:
"More than you know."
