Before He Harms (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 14)

by Blake Pierce

  “She can try if she wants,” Cole said. “But the women are instructed to never speak to strangers.”

  “Like children?” Mackenzie asked.

  Cole sneered at her. Any act he was putting on that he was cool and collected was quickly dissolving. “No, not like children.”

  “Do they get spankings and beatings as if they were children?”

  “No! That’s another lie.”

  As they walked along, tension growing between them, Mackenzie figured she may as well go ahead and knock the rest of his calm act to the ground. As they passed by two women walking side by side, one with a basket of eggs and corn in her hands, Mackenzie stepped in front of them.

  “Good morning, ladies,” she said. “I’m Agent White with the FBI, and I was wondering if you might have time to—”

  The women lowered their heads so quickly that Mackenzie was surprised she did not hear their jaws bouncing from their chests. They hurried their steps and went to the right, in the direction of yet another row of homes.

  “That was very rude,” Cole spat.

  “I was just trying to speak with them.”

  “I told you that they are not permitted—”

  “Yes, I heard that. It sounded so archaic and ridiculous that I had to see for myself.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what to say or show you if you are going to be this rude,” Cole said, looking at both of them. “I have no idea what your investigation entails, so I can’t be a very effective guide, now can I?”

  “All I can tell you is that it has to do with sanitation,” Ellington said, thinking quickly. Mackenzie bit back a smile at his cleverness. He was not only ensuring they would get deeper into the Community, but also putting Cole’s mind at ease.

  “Sanitation?”

  “Yes. Being that your people don’t partake in the census, we have no idea how many people are here or what the living conditions are like. The Environmental Protection Agency is really cracking down on small off-the-grid communities like this. I just need to see the condition of the showers, the homes, the facilities, and any sewage run-off.”

  “And they send the FBI for that?”

  “Standard practice when there’s a religious community involved.”

  Mackenzie, of course, knew this was a blatant lie. Federal agents would not be sent out for such a task unless something had gone wrong.

  “So then what’s the case?” Cole asked, still not quite buying it.

  “We’ve found eight so-called religious communes in the past two weeks that had their people living in filthy conditions. On two occasions, we’ve had to go in and make arrests when the leaders refused to allow access. Looking for places in the Salt Lake City area, the Community naturally came up.”

  The expression on Cole’s face made it clear that he hadn’t fully accepted this story. Still, he kept walking and leading them deeper into the Community, and that was more than enough for now. As Mackenzie continued to appreciate the clever ruse Ellington has constructed, she continued to take in the sights of the Community.

  There were several breaks among the dwellings. Some were occupied by small flower gardens, others by what looked like small herb gardens; she saw mint and basil, rosemary and lavender. They were all growing quite well, giving Mackenzie the idea that most of the people here were agriculturally skilled. She had no idea what healthy corn was supposed to look like, but she was pretty sure the field all the way to the right of the property was just as lush and perfect as any other she’d ever see.

  And it was then, as she was looking at the cornfields, that she saw the opened barn. It was looked to be a typical barn that anyone might see at a farm. But this barn had been stripped on the inside and turned into a garage of sorts. There were nine vehicles in it: two tractors, two ATVs, three cars, and two trucks. The barn (or garage) sat to the right of the first few rows of corn, about thirty feet away from them. A thin dirt trail snaked off from the primary walkway Cole and his two minions were leading them across.

  “Is that the only means of transportation for all of these people?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Yes,” Cole said. “As you might imagine, people don’t leave here very often. Most only ever leave the grounds in the event of a medical emergency.”

  “What about pregnancies?”

  “It’s all done here. We have some exceptionally skilled midwives on the grounds.”

  “Do you recall the last time someone had to leave to go the hospital?” Ellington asked.

  “Quite recently, actually,” Cole said. “A middle-aged woman suffered from a rather large kidney stone two months ago. It had to be blasted with a laser at the hospital, and then there was some healing to be done. She was in the hospital for three days and came back here…happily, I might add.”

  “And how was that paid for?” Ellington asked. “I assume there’s no insurance out here, so it’s all out of pocket.”

  “With all due respect, that has nothing to do with sanitation.”

  Mackenzie chuckled at this. Then, giving no warning at all, she veered off from the group. She headed straight for the barn and the vehicles inside.

  “Agent White, where are you going?” Cole asked.

  “I’m a sucker for a tractor,” she said. “I wanted to see what you’re working with over here.”

  “But you can’t—”

  Cole stopped here, apparently not sure how to finish what he was about to say. Without turning to look back, Mackenzie noted the little tremor of uncertainty in his voice. It was the first time she’d heard him so clearly bothered by something since they had arrived.

  Instantly, both of the men who had been accompanying him followed her. She was aware of them falling in on either side of her. She also noted that several people who had been walking along the path and toward whatever morning duties they had were now stopping to watch.

  “I’m going to have to ask you not to go in there,” Cole said. He was trying to sound authoritative, but it was a weak attempt.

  “Just a quick peek,” Mackenzie said.

  The two men who had been flanking them sprinted ahead of her. The younger of the two reached the door on the right and started pushing it forward, closing his side of the set of wooden double doors.

  “I’m going to need you to leave that open,” Mackenzie said.

  The man said nothing. He kept shoving the door closed, the bottom barely skirting the dirt beneath it. The other man was now at the other door. As his hand pushed against it, Ellington dashed forward and stood in his way.

  “Don’t close that door,” Ellington said.

  The forty-something man looked back at Cole. Mackenzie also looked at him and saw that he looked both pissed off and worried.

  “Tell them to step aside,” Mackenzie said.

  “Please,” Cole said to the men. “Close the doors. They do not have permission to go inside.”

  The forty-something man pushed the door. Ellington reached out his hands and pushed right back. He gave a hard shove to his side of the door, and it swung inward. The door struck the man on the other side hard enough to knock him down. Ellington looked to Mackenzie, his gaze essentially telling her: “If you’ve got a play here, take it now before things really get out of control.”

  Mackenzie hurried forward. She of course had no interest in the tractors, as she had claimed. Instead, she headed for the three cars and two trucks. Fortunately, they were all parked directly next to one another, distanced from the more rugged vehicles.

  “You are trespassing!” Cole yelled at them. Behind him, several other members of the Community started to gather and stare.

  “Not quite,” she said. “The doors were open.”

  “And we tried closing them.”

  Even as he said this, the younger man finished slamming his door shut. As he started for the other one, Ellington stood in his way. His hand went for his Glock, hovering over the butt.

  “Don’t you touch that fucking door,” Ellington said.

>   As Ellington and the younger man stared each other down, Mackenzie approached the first of the cars. She looked it over, knowing what she was looking for but unable to find it. She started to feel panic sinking in, thinking they had caused this scene for no good reason at all.

  “Agent White, I demand that you get out of that barn!” Cole was livid now, storming toward the entrance. Ellington stepped in front of him, his hand still hovering over his weapon.

  Mackenzie came to the truck last. Right away, she saw exactly what she was looking for.

  “Cole, who does this truck belong to?”

  “It is no concern of yours. Again, what does any of this have to do with sanitation?”

  “We lied about that,” Mackenzie said. “Now…is this your truck?”

  Cole did not answer and all of a sudden, there were four sets of eyes on him: Mackenzie, Ellington, and his two followers. There were multiple others as well, watching things unfold from a distance. Their peaceful morning had grown suddenly tense.

  “Answer the question,” Ellington said, raising his voice.

  “Whatever you think you have found—”

  “Zip your mouth,” Mackenzie said. “You either answer my question or you’re going to be arrested.”

  Ellington turned to her, giving her a quizzical glance. But he saw what she had found almost right away as well. His eyes and jaw set firmly as he slowly removed his sidearm.

  The truck’s bumper had been dented and a small portion of the grille had been nicked and broken along the bottom.

  There were deep flecks of black paint around both—the same shade of black as the car they had stood outside of, investigating the dead bodies of two young women.

  “Hands over your head,” Ellington said.

  “You are infringing on our religious freedom,” Cole hissed. “You have no right to even be here and—”

  Mackenzie had heard enough. She was well aware that she was breaking several lines of protocol but didn’t much care. She approached Cole and grabbed him by the shoulder. She then hauled him toward the garage, essentially manhandling him. Cole did not put up a fight. Instead, he called over his shoulder to everyone watching.

  “You are all witnesses to this,” he screamed. “I am being physically accosted by federal agents and—”

  Mackenzie shoved him hard toward the truck. He stopped himself by placing his hands against the hood. He tried turning to face her, but she shoved him again, his head facing the grille.

  “Where’s that paint from?” she asked. “The truck is red. That paint on the bumper and the grille is black.”

  Cole said nothing. He turned slowly and smiled at her. It took everything in her not to punch him.

  With the smile still on his face, Cole offered his wrists, held together. His eyes were unblinking as he stared her down. Go ahead, that stare seemed to say. Arrest me.

  Mackenzie grinned right back at him. She spun him around and shoved him down hard against the hood of the truck. She pulled his arms behind his back and cuffed him. She knew there were countless eyes of the Community watching her, but she did not care. She pulled a little harder than she needed to when she cinched the cuffs and then jerked him back to a standing position.

  “Marshall Cole, you’re under arrest for the suspected murders of at least three women,” she said.

  And as she spoke, she made sure to say it loud enough so that everyone gathered and watching could hear.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Amy assumed most normal people met with co-workers and colleagues outside of work in a coffee shop or restaurant. But she did not have that luxury. She had to be careful and, as of about three hours ago, she knew she had to be more careful than ever. The visit from the FBI agents and the tragic news of Bethany and the girl who was meant to be Felicia had her more scared than ever. In fact, she was well aware that her life could end at any moment.

  It was why she pulled her car into an empty parking lot on the very edge of the business district in Salt Lake City at nine o’clock. She parked behind an abandoned laundromat, pulling her car in directly beside another car. The moment she brought her car to a stop, the woman in the other car rolled her window down. Amy did the same and for a space of about three seconds, the two women simply looked at one another.

  The other woman was named Lilith. That was all Amy knew; she had never known the woman’s last name. Lilith was in her late forties but looked much older. Every time Amy had seen her, her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her thin face showed echoes of a woman who had likely once been quite pretty but she now looked perpetually tired and haunted.

  “I know it’s stupid to ask,” Lilith said, “but are you sure about Bethany and the new girl?”

  “Yeah. The FBI showing up so early in the morning sort of makes it very real.”

  Lilith bowed her head and wept. Amy could see that she was fighting through the emotion. Amy knew what it felt like. There was so much emotion that needed to come out, but at the same time, there wasn’t much time to waste. Amy looked away, leaving Lilith to her grief.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” Lilith said a minute or so later. “I barely even knew her, but…”

  “It’s okay,” Amy said. “Hardly anyone knew her. She deserves to be mourned by someone.”

  She didn’t ask, but she assumed that when she had called Lilith almost immediately after the agents had left her house and asked to meet, Lilith had likely known the kind of news that was coming. They had only ever met in emergency situations, and it had never been at such an early hour.

  “Amy,” Lilith said, tears still in her eyes and streaming down her face. “You have done so much for these women. I appreciate it and I know they do. But this is three women in less than a week. It’s getting too dangerous. I hate to say it, but—”

  “Then don’t.”

  “—but we really need to stop. We’ve done as much as we can, but at some point we have to face the facts and admit that we are fighting a war we simply can’t win.”

  “No. I refuse to even think that. If we gave up on this, the Community wins. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, that can’t happen. Even if it does kill me in the end, I have to keep that fire to their feet. I have to be that thorn in their side.”

  “Amy…Marjorie was killed on your street. How much longer do you think you can remain a secret? How much longer until you’re killed, too?”

  “I can ask the same of you, Lilith. You’ve been risking so much. Even if we stopped right now, there’s still a very good chance that someone would find out. So to me, giving up is just not an option.”

  Lilith nodded, wiping a few of her tears away. “Oh, to be young and still so full of rage and vengeance.”

  “You still have it in you, too.”

  “I thought I did. But…God, it’s so tempting to just let it all go. To forget about what the Community is all about—what it has done to me. I could live blindly and mostly happy, I think.”

  “No you couldn’t.”

  Lilith laughed sadly, nodding at the same time. “You’re right about that, I suppose. So—at the risk of seeming like a bitch—what do you propose we do? If we’re going to keep at this, we need to change something. It’s quite clear that they’re on to us.”

  “We have to act urgently. No more one at a time. If you know there are two or three or however many, we get them all at once. Work in groups.”

  “In a perfect world, that would be splendid,” Lilith said. “But for me, on the inside, that many women all at once is going to be incredibly hard to pull off.”

  “I don’t see any other way. It can’t just be one here and one there. If multiples can escape all at once, it could expose them. It could end the Community.”

  Amy could see the fear in Lilith’s eyes but she thought she could also see a ghost of the anger she had mentioned earlier.

  “What about your other roommate? Shanda, right?”

  “Yes.
Shanda is fine. She’s still a little battered and wounded. She’s only been out for a month. She rarely leaves her room, which makes her just about as safe as any of us.”

  “So she wouldn’t be able to assist?”

  “Not yet. I’ll try talking to her.” Amy paused here and then asked a question that usually broke her heart. But given their new plan, it nearly instilled some hope in her to get it out in the open.

  “How many do you know of that want out right now?”

  “Seven easily. Maybe as many as ten.”

  “And you’ll call me if you feel it’s time?”

  “Yes. But for now, I need to get going. I need to get back before anyone realizes I’m gone.”

  Amy nodded and cranked her car. “Thanks for all you’re doing, Lilith.”

  “Same to you. I think…well, I dare to think if we’re careful we can free more women within the month. And in the long run, God willing…”

  “We’ll bring the Community down.”

  “We can dream,” Lilith said.

  But with the flicker of tears still in her eyes, it was very hard for Amy to believe she meant it.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  What struck Mackenzie as particularly odd was just how comfortable Marshall Cole looked sitting behind the table in the interrogation room. He did not look anxious or scared at all. He looked like he might be sitting in a restaurant, waiting for someone else to join him for a meal. When Mackenzie and Ellington came into the room, the bastard regarded them with a smile.

  “Good to see you again, Agents,” he said.

  “Can’t say the same,” Mackenzie said. She figured if he was going to play the cool and collected villain, she could play the non-caring hero. She sat down across from him, looking him in his eyes. They were calm and serene, a vibrant gray-blue.

  Ellington stood against the wall adjacent from her. He folded his arms and took on the same stoic posture he usually assumed in an interrogation room. “Mr. Cole, do you know why we’ve brought you here?”