While the idea of getting drunk was certainly an enticing one, it also reminded her of what had happened the last time she'd had a drink. Yes, it had only been yesterday but the embarrassment of what had happened made it seem like it had happened years ago and had haunted her all of the time in between. So rather than drink her anger away, Mackenzie did the only other thing she knew to do.
She went home and placed all of the files concerning the Scarecrow Killer on her coffee table. She brewed a pot of coffee and went over every scrap she had on the case. While part of her felt that having the fourth murder site on lockdown was a sure-fire way to an arrest, her instinct told her that the killer would be smart. All it would take was him seeing the merest sign of a police presence to change his plans. Nelson and the State PD likely realized this, too but the fact that they were so close now might make them a little too conservative in their approach.
Outside, night had fallen. She stared out of her blinds for a moment, wondering how the events of the last few days might affect the course of her life. She thought of Zack and realized, for perhaps the first time, that she was glad he was gone. If she was being honest with herself, she'd only tolerated the relationship so she wouldn't be alone-something she had feared ever since walking into her parents' bedroom and finding her dead father.
She also wondered what Ellington was doing. His call with the profile earlier was proof that he was still involved in the Scarecrow Killer case, even if it was only in a background capacity. Thinking of him, she also wondered if she would have taken the profile and the visit to Holy Cross so seriously if it had come from anyone else. Had she been trying to impress him or had she been trying to impress Nelson?
As she looked back to the files in front of her, a very simple yet provocative thought filled her head: Why impress anyone? Why not just do a good job and work to the best of my abilities? Why care what anyone else thinks of me, much less a useless ex-boyfriend, chauvinist supervisors, or a married FBI agent?
As if provoked by such thoughts, her cell phone rang. She picked it up from the clutter of files and folders on her coffee table and saw that it was Ellington. She smirked at the phone and almost didn't answer it. He was probably calling to receive thanks for the rabbit trail of Holy Cross, or maybe he had some other insightful idea that would lead her astray and get her reprimanded. If she'd had a clearer head in that moment, she would have ignored the call. But, as it was, some of the fury from Nelson's office was still lurking in her heart and demanded that she answer it.
"Hello, Agent Ellington," she said.
"Hey there, White. I know I keep bothering you, but I'm wrapping up for the day and wanted to see if anything on that profile panned out for you."
"No, it didn't," Mackenzie said, skipping the niceties. "In fact, it seems that the only thing my visit to a Catholic school did was piss off the head nun."
Ellington clearly hadn't been expecting such a response; the other end of the line was quiet for a full five seconds before he responded.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It was a dead end. And while I was there being lectured by the principal on the nature of evil, the State police showed up on the scene of what we believe is going to be the site of the fourth murder. Being that I was not there, they pulled rank."
"Ah, shit."
"Oh, it gets better," Mackenzie snapped. "Remember Ellis Pope?"
"Yeah, the reporter."
"Yes, him. Well, he decided to press charges today with the threat of going to the media about our little scuffle. The State boys heard about that, too. So they got after Nelson and, as of about an hour ago, I was officially removed from this case."
"Are you kidding me?" he asked.
His disbelief sparked even more anger in her and, fortunately, it helped her to realize that she was being rude for no reason. The spot she found herself in was not his fault. All he was doing was checking in and lending a sympathetic ear.
"No, I'm not kidding," she said, trying to keep herself in check. "I have been asked to sit idly by while the good old boys wrap this one up."
"That's not fair."
"I agree," she said. "But I know that Nelson had no choice."
"So what can I do?" Ellington asked.
"Not much, I'm afraid. If you really want to help with the case some more, call Nelson. You may actually get in trouble over talking to me about it."
"White, I'm really sorry about this."
"It is what it is," she said.
Silence filled the line again and this time she didn't give Ellington a chance to pick the conversation back up. If he did, she was afraid her misplaced anger might resurface and he certainly didn't deserve that.
"I've got to go," she said. "Take care."
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she said. "It's just been a shock."
"Well, take care."
"Thanks."
She ended the call without waiting for a response. She tossed the phone back down on the table next to photocopied pages of the Biblical passages they had deciphered from the posts. She read them over and over again but found nothing new. She then looked to the map taken from the back of the Bible and a crude map that Nancy had made, listing all potential murder sites. It seemed so well put together and simple.
And that was why it made Mackenzie uncomfortable. That's why she felt the need to keep digging, to uncover some truth that they had not yet found. She drank coffee and pored over the files as if it were another day at the office, losing herself in her work despite being off the case.
*
When her cell phone buzzed again, the display on the clock read 7:44. She blinked her eyes and rubbed at her head, slightly in shock. Nearly two hours had passed between Ellington's call and this call but it hadn't felt nearly that long.
She was confused when she saw Nelson's name on the display. She let out a coarse little laugh as she picked up the phone, wondering what else she might have done that would warrant further punishment.
She answered, her eyes once again traveling to the window and the night outside. Was the killer out there, ready to string up his next victim? Or was he already in the act?
"You're about the last person I expected to hear from," Mackenzie said.
"White, I need you to shut your mouth and listen very closely to me," Nelson said. His voice was soft and almost gentle, something she had never heard out of him before.
"Okay," she said, unsure of how to take his tone and instruction.
"Twenty minutes ago, Officer Patrick pulled a man over on State Route 411. He was driving an old red Toyota pickup truck. There was a Bible in the passenger seat and strands of rope in the floorboard. This man, Glenn Hooks, is a pastor at a small Baptist church in the town of Bentley. Here's the kicker: there were eight passages marked in his Bible. One of them dealt with the Six Cities of Refuge."
"My God," Mackenzie breathed.
"Patrick has not arrested this man yet, but was pretty insistent that the man come to the station. He put up a stern argument, but Patrick has him right now. As they're on the way, I'm sending another unit to his house to see if they find anything suspicious."
"Okay," was all Mackenzie could manage to say again.
"The State PD knows nothing about this," Nelson went on. "Between you and I, that's at my instruction. I wanted first crack at this guy before the State got involved. I just got off the phone with Patrick. They'll be here at the station in about ten minutes. I want you here to question the guy. And I need you to do it quickly because I don't know how long we can keep the boys from State in the dark. You might have twenty or thirty minutes before I'll need to get you out of here."
"After everything you told me in your office, do you really think that's the best idea?"
"No, it's not a good idea," Nelson said. "But it's all I have right now. I know I sent you packing less than five hours ago, but I'm not asking if you'll do this, I'm telling you. You're still officially off the case. That doesn't change. This is being done under the table. I need you on this, White. You got it?"
She'd never felt so disrespected yet valued at the same time. Her heart was sparked by a stirring of excitement but it was underpinned by the anger that had been pushing her for most of the afternoon.
Remember, she thought. This isn't about impressing anyone. This isn't about being right or wrong or looking good. This is about doing your job and putting a man that tortures and kills women behind bars.
"White?" Nelson snapped.
She looked down at the coffee table and saw the photos. The women that had been stripped of their dignity, terrorized, beaten and killed. She owed them justice. She owed their families some sort of rest.
Gripping the phone tightly and with a look of steeled determination coming over her face, Mackenzie said:
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
