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 repair, busted tires. That meant he was probably not in this for the sport of killing. He just wanted the women. But why?
And how about the latest victim, Delores Manning? Maybe she was a local with a past history of the area, Mackenzie thought. Either that or just brave as hell to travel those back roads at such an hour…I don’t care how good a shortcut it is, that’s pretty reckless.
She hoped this was the case. She hoped the woman was brave. Because bravery, no matter how staged, could often help people deal with tense situations. It was more than just a badge of honor, but a deep psychological trait that helped people cope. She tried to envision Delores Manning, the up-and-coming writer, winding down those roads at night. Brave or not, it simply wasn’t a pretty picture.
When Mackenzie was done, she handed the folder back to Ellington. She looked past him and to the window beyond where white tufts of clouds were drifting by. She closed her eyes for just a moment and took herself back there, not to Iowa but to neighboring Nebraska. A place where there was open land and towering woods rather than mangled traffic and tall buildings. She didn’t really miss it but found that the idea of returning to it, even for work, was exciting in a way she did not fully understand.
“White?”
She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. She turned to Ellington, a little embarrassed that he had caught her zoning out. “Yeah?”
“You sort of went blank there for a minute. You okay?”
“I am,” she said.
And the hell of it was that she was okay. The first six hours of the day had been physically and emotionally draining, but now that she was sitting down, suspended in the air and with an unlikely temporary partner, she felt okay.
“Let me ask you something,” Mackenzie said.
“Shoot.”
“Did you put in a request to work with me on this?”
Ellington didn’t answer right away. She could see the cogs turning behind his eyes before he replied and wondered why he might have any reason to lie to her.
“Well, I heard about the case and, as you know, I have a working relationship with the field office in Omaha. And since that’s the closest field office to our target in Iowa, I threw my hat in the ring. When he asked if I minded working with you on the case, I didn’t argue.”
She nodded, starting to feel almost guilty for wondering if he had any other reason for wanting the job. While she had been harboring some sort of feelings for him (whether strictly physical or somehow emotional, she had never been sure), he had never given her any reason to assume he felt the same. It was far too easy to recall coming on to him when she had first met him out in Nebraska and then getting rejected.
Let’s just hope he’s forgotten all about that, she thought. I’m a different person now, he’s far too busy to worry himself with me, and we’re working together now. Water under the bridge.
“So how about you?” she asked. “What are your initial thoughts?”
“I think he has no intention of killing the women,” Ellington said. “No clues, no showing off, and, like you, I think it’s got to be a local doing it. I think he’s maybe collecting them…for what purpose, I won’t speculate. But that worries me, if I’m right.”
It worried Mackenzie, too. If there was someone out there kidnapping women, he would eventually run out of room. And maybe interest…which meant he’d have to stop sooner or later. And while that was theoretically a good thing, it also meant that his trail would go cold without any further scenes to possibly leave evidence at.
“I think you’re right about him collecting them,” she said. “He’s coming after them in a vulnerable state—while they’re messing with cars or busted tires. It means he’s sneaking up rather than being in your face. He’s likely timid.”
He grinned and said, “Huh. That’s a good observation.”
His grin turned into a smile that she had to look away from, knowing that they had a habit of locking eyes and letting the stares linger a bit too long. Instead, she turned her eyes back out to the blue sky and the clouds while the Midwest quickly approached below them.
With very little luggage between them, Mackenzie and Ellington made their way through the airport without any trouble. During the tail end of the flight, Ellington informed Mackenzie that plans had already been made (presumably while she had been rushing to her apartment and then to the airport). She and Ellington were to meet two local field agents and work with them to get the case wrapped up as quickly as possible. With no need to stop by the luggage carousel, they were able to meet with the agents with no problem.
They met in one of the countless Starbucks in the airport. She let Ellington lead the way because it was apparent that McGrath saw
