Mackenzie felt positive that the killer would not strike until night, and the others agreed with her. That gave them all four more hours of daylight to get ready for what they hoped would be a successful bust. Even if something did happen before nightfall, there were three patrol cars stationed along State Route 411, keeping an eye out for a vehicle entering the dirt road that led to the site the killer had prepared. With the addition of a State PD helicopter on the way to assist, it felt like a victory even before the sun was down.
Mackenzie was in one of the unmarked cars along State Route 411, relieved to be by herself. Nelson had busied himself with heading back to the station to meet with an advisor from the State PD, allowing her to stay behind and keep her eyes on the scene and retain control of the case. Her car was parked a mile and a quarter away from the dirt road, partially hidden from 411 by having pulled backwards into the entrance to what had once been an old cutaway road farmers had used to get from one cornfield to the other.
She'd been sitting there for fifteen minutes and the only car she'd seen go by was a police car, leaving the site and heading back to the station. She still felt certain that there would be no activity until well into the night and knew that she had a long stretch of waiting ahead of her. She wondered if Nelson had given her this duty to keep her out of his hair or if he saw it as giving her a position that kept her front and center of events as they unfolded.
With a sigh and a glance out to the uneventful stretch of State Route 411, Mackenzie picked up her phone and stared at the missed call notification from where Ellington had tried calling her an hour and a half ago. She did her best not to recall the events of yesterday evening when she had made an ass of herself in his presence as she pressed the notification bar. When his number came up, she pressed it right away before she had time to change her mind.
He answered on the third ring and when he did, she hated that it was so good to hear his voice. "Ellington here," he said.
"It's Mackenzie White," she said. "I was returning your call."
"Oh, hey! I hear you guys have a promising break."
"Seems like it, but time will tell. We found the next pole, already set up and ready to go."
"I heard. How do you feel about that?"
"Good," she said.
"You sound doubtful."
"It just seems too good to be true. I feel like there's something missing."
"Maybe there is," Ellington said. "Your instincts are pretty sharp. I wouldn't question them."
"I usually don't."
An awkward silence fell between them and Mackenzie found herself digging for something new to talk about. He'd already heard about the break in the case, so it was useless to rehash it all. This is pathetic, Mackenzie, she thought.
"So," Ellington said, breaking the silence. "I took the liberty of working up a profile after I got word about the religious ties. The chances are very good that we're looking for someone with religion in his background. Maybe even a priest or pastor, although history points to an upbringing in a strict religious home. Maybe he went to a private religious school. I'm also thinking he either had no mother at home or a mother that got around. He probably acted out as a kid-not in the extreme ways we're seeing right now, but more basic kid-trouble."
"What's all this based on?" she asked. "Just past cases?"
"Yeah, mostly," he said. "I can't take the credit for these insights at all. But truth be told, it's a formula that works about seventy percent of the time."
"Okay, so if this site doesn't pan out, we keep an eye out for one of about one thousand possible suspects."
"Maybe not so many. Based on my profile, I also assume this guy is a local. If he's mapping out his own city, as you have pointed out, I'd say he grew up around there. And because of that, I made a few calls. There's a Catholic grade school within sixty miles of Omaha. There's one more in the state, but I'm betting the one closest to Omaha is going to be your best bet."
"That's amazing," Mackenzie said.
"What is?"
"Just like that, you've narrowed down the search and even have a potential source of background information."
"Well, the I in FBI does stand for investigation." He laughed a bit at his own joke but when Mackenzie did not, he shut it down.
"Thanks, Ellington."
"Sure. One last thing before you go, though."
"What's that?" she asked, nervous, hoping he wouldn't bring up her embarrassing advances of the night before.
"When I gave my report to my director, I told him you were amazing and that I tried to sway you to the dark side."
She felt flattered.
"The dark side being the Bureau?"
"Right. Anyway, he seemed interested. So if you ever do get that itch to head out our way, I can give you his contact information. It might be a conversation worth having."
She thought this over and while she wanted to say more, to tell him how much she appreciated him, she only managed a simple "Thanks" in response. The very idea seemed too dreamlike. Great things like that tended not to happen to her.
"You okay over there?" Ellington asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I need to go, though. This thing is wrapping up down here and I need to stay focused."
"I hear that. Go get 'em."
She grinned in spite of herself. While he may have been a larger-than-life figure to her, Ellington was also proving that he was just as cheesy and flawed as everyone else.
She killed the call and looked out to State Route 411 again. She started to feel antsy, like she was wasting her time by simply sitting there. She pulled up the web browser on her phone and typed in a search for local Catholic grade schools, and found that Ellington had been spot on with his findings.
She saved the address to her phone and then pulled up Nelson's number. He answered after the fourth ring and sounded pissed to have been disrupted from brown-nosing the State guys.
"What's up, White?"
"I want to check on a lead, sir," she said. "It will require me to leave 411 for two or three hours, though."
"Absolutely not," Nelson said. "You're leading this thing, so you have to stay around. This is your show, White. Don't even think about letting it get away from you. If we haven't got this guy by tomorrow, we'll talk again. If it's a really promising lead, I can send someone else to check it out."
"No," Mackenzie said. "It's just a hunch."
"Okay," he said. "Keep put until I say otherwise."
She couldn't even reply before he hung up.
With that, she pulled up the address of the Catholic school on her GPS and saved it. She then looked to the right where, a bit further down State Route 411, a lone pole remained empty in a cornfield, awaiting a sacrifice.
She knew she should stay put, should follow orders and sit here for four hours doing nothing.
But as she sat there, something gnawed away at her. What if he killed the victims before he brought them out?
If so, that meant there was a girl trapped somewhere, right now, being tortured, a girl who would die while Mackenzie merely sat there and waited for her dead body to show up.
She couldn't stand the thought of it.
And what if that Catholic school-the only one in the area, the one that fit the FBI's profile perfectly-could give her a name? An ID?
That could bring them to the killer before he arrived her. It could perhaps save the next victim before it was too late.
Mackenzie sat there, waiting, burning up inside as she could hear the next victim's screams in her head. Each passing minute was agony.
Finally, she floored the gas and peeled out of there.
She pulled up Holy Cross on her GPS.
Disobeying a direct order like this might mean her job, her entire future.
But she had no choice.
She only hoped she could make it there and back before it was too late.
