by Blake Pierce
“That’s very much right,” Mackenzie said. “You might be interested to know that there was black paint on your dented bumper and grill. It just happens to be the same color of a car that was run off the road last night. The driver and passenger—both young women—were brutally killed. But that really doesn’t surprise you, does it?”
But maybe it did. Had she seen a flicker of shock and surprise in his eyes?
“So, let me get this straight,” Cole said without missing a beat. “You think some stray paint on my old truck pins me to some terrible murder?”
“Given the color of the paint and some information we have recently heard about what you and your cohorts do in that Community of yours, yes, I think it’s more than enough reason to have brought you here.”
“Ah, and there we go,” Cole said. “It took less than two minutes for us to get there.”
“Get where, exactly?”
“You admitting that part of your decision to arrest me and bring me here is based on things you’ve heard about the Community. Please…tell me exactly what you’ve heard.”
She nearly fell for it. And he slipped it in there so subtly that it made Mackenzie wonder if he had been planning for this day for a very long time. If so, she couldn’t even imagine the number of loopholes and exaggerated stories he had in mind to weasel out of this. She knew that revealing everything she had heard would honestly only give him more weapons and traps to ensnare her.
“I think I’ll keep those little nuggets for now,” Mackenzie said.
Still standing nonchalantly against the wall, Ellington gave it a try. “Mr. Cole, if someone decides they want out of the Community, can they leave just like that?”
“There is usually an exit interview. We use it to find out what about the Community displeases them and why they are leaving. We then seek feedback and counsel from some of the other elders.”
“Do they sign a contract or something like that to promise they won’t tell outsiders about what goes on in the Community?” Ellington asked.
“No. That’s ridiculous. We do nothing in the Community that we would not want anyone on the outside to know about.”
“What about the footage of that woman getting the shit beat out of her?” Mackenzie asked.
Again, that flicker of uncertainty flashed across his eyes. But he shook it off like a flea and, again, managed to smile at her.
“Yes, what about it?” he asked, smugly. “Did that woman ever come forward? Was it ever proven that those were indeed sounds of pain or torment? Maybe it was someone who was very sick. Or perhaps they were sounds of pleasure and ecstasy as she made love with her husband.”
“Perhaps,” Mackenzie said. “I wonder if she was the only wife to that man or if there were many of them. And if all of them make the same noises.”
She hated herself for the low blow but God, it felt good. She even saw Ellington give her a disappointed little frown at the dig.
“Back to that again?” Cole said. “Look, if you’re hung up on the polygamy part of it, I can tell you what you want to know. I know some women these days have a very hard time digesting it…to the point of getting angry that such a place even exists.”
“Look, for right now I’m looking beyond the fact that you and the men in the Community have somehow brainwashed the women that live there. All we’re trying to do is find a killer that has taken the lives of three young women in the past four days.”
“So shouldn’t you be asking me about that instead of making assumptions about the Community?”
“Mr. Cole,” Ellington said, speaking up before Mackenzie lost what little cool still remained. “The fact remains that we are looking for someone who ran a black car off the road last night. The truck we saw this morning looked to have hit something black. And being that the black paint wasn’t faded, it does indeed look suspicious. So Community aside, let’s take it from there. Is that your truck?”
“It belongs to me and the title is in my name, yes. But many people use it.”
“What is it used for?”
“Mostly things around the commune. Hauling corn, wood, things like that.”
“Is it ever taken out of the Community?”
“Yes, every once in a while.”
“How often?”
“Maybe two or three times a month. Usually to pick up supplies in Salt Lake City.”
“And when was the last time it was taken out?”
“I don’t know the last time,” Cole said. “But I could find out for you. It was probably about a week ago.”
Mackenzie felt like she had taken a back seat. It was probably for the best. She was very aware that her anger was getting the best of her. And she was also aware that Cole was making sure it happened. He’d told her without actually coming out and saying so that he saw her as totally beneath him and, therefore, not fit to question him, as soon as they had shown up at the Community. So, for now, she figured she’d let Ellington handle the questions.
“If we asked you for your whereabouts for the past week, would you be able to provide proof?”
“That would be easy. I’ve been inside the Community with the exception of a trip into Hoyt two days ago.”
“When did you go into Hoyt?” Ellington asked. “What time?”
“Two or three in the afternoon. I met with one of the markets that buys corn from us.”
“And you were on Community grounds every hour of every other day within the past week?”
“Yes.”
Mackenzie couldn’t stand staying quiet. She made sure she was calm and collected before she spoke again, asking, “Earlier, we asked about what happens when people want to leave. How many have left during the entire time the Community has been thriving?”
“Four. The last one was nearly eight years ago.”
“Could you give us their names?”
“No. There is a degree of anonymity when someone leaves. It is usually at their request. They want a new life and don’t want people knowing that they were associated with us.”
“Don’t you find that insulting?” Ellington asked.
“Not at all. I do find it regrettable, though. We don’t offer Paradise or Eden, but we offer more than the world outside does. It is always sad to lose someone to the outside world.”
“Mr. Cole, has anyone ever left without your permission?” Mackenzie asked. “Has anyone ever escaped?”
This time, when the flicker of unease came, it stayed much longer. When he answered, he did so slowly. This time, it was his turn to watch out for traps as he spoke. So far, she and Ellington had not mentioned the names of the women who had been killed…even if they were fake names. It would be foolish to mention such a thing if they truly suspected him as the killer. But now the ball was at least in the air and it was his turn to return it.
“Yes. There have been several people that have slipped away unaccounted for. I’m sure you know of the most recent one if you are investigating anything between Salt Lake City and Fellsburg. That woman brought people very similar to you into the Community. And try as they might—just like you—they were unable to pin their hate and misunderstandings on us.”
“Three women are dead,” Mackenzie said. “That’s a fact. Not a misunderstanding.”
“No, the misunderstanding is that something bad has happened in the area and because no one has immediate answers, they assume that a community of people they simply can’t seem to understand clearly had something to do with it. It’s easy to blame it on those that stand outside of your social norms. It’s nice. It’s comfortable. Look…I understand it and I don’t even fault you. But I can’t just be the scapegoat.”
“The truck is enough evidence. Your Community has nothing to do with it. We’d have brought in Joe Nobody off the street if his truck had a dent with seemingly fresh black paint on it.”
“So then what do you need? Proof? Go ahead. I openly give you permission to ask anyone in the Community where I was last night. Or for the rest of the
week for that matter.”
“No surprise there that your people would tell us anything you’ve already instructed them just to save your hide,” Mackenzie said. “You know what I wonder? I wonder what sorts of things might come to light if we were to raid the Community. If they knew you were out of the picture and there was no threat of punishment or banishment, what might they tell us? And without any warning that we were coming, what would we find?”
“It’s quite cute that you think we’ve never been threatened with such before,” Cole said, as smug as ever. “See, the past has taught us how to deal with people like you.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice, and said: “I can make similar threats, you know. I have one hundred people that will testify that you and Mr. Ellington forced your way onto our property and manhandled me when I was wrongfully arrested.”
“Well now, that would be a lie,” Ellington said.
Cole said nothing. He gave the slightest twitch of his shoulders in what may or may not have been a shrug.
It wasn’t necessarily proof that he was guilty—though it did swing things further in that direction as far as Mackenzie was concerned—and it did show her that he had been contemplating scenarios like this for years. In the back of her mind, she could see what might be taking place at the Community right now. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if someone was moving the truck, hiding it and the evidence of black paint somewhere out in the woods.
“You may as well tell us what we’re going to find if we were to search your Community. Because we will have it searched.” This was a bluff; she had no idea if it would come to that or if the state would even allow it.
“Try all you want. But how long might it take you to get a warrant for that?”
Mackenzie felt herself losing her temper. There would be no hope of reining it in if she let it out. So she got up and walked toward the door, unable to resist one last comment before she left.
“You’re right,” she said. “It could take a while. Maybe as long as the twenty-four hours we’re allowed to hold you here.”
This time it was her turn to give a little grin.
As she and Ellington made their way out, it was Cole who got the last word. And though it landed somewhat flat, it still made Mackenzie uneasy.
“Good day, Agents. I must say, I look forward to seeing you again on the day this all comes back to you. Because, mark my words, you will regret this.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They were back in the car, leaving the station and heading back to Amy Campbell’s residence. Mackenzie was staring out the windshield, still doing what she could to get a better grip on her anger. It was an anger unlike any she’d felt toward a suspect before. She’d never felt such a feeling of superiority coming off of a suspect, such disrespect and mockery. Cole did it well, speaking in a way that wasn’t deliberately offensive, but came off as condescending all the same.
“Cole really got to you, huh?” Ellington asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay. I get it. He’s not used to dealing with strong-willed women, and you’re not accustomed to men treating you like a little schoolgirl. Just…if we speak to him again, let’s pull back on the verbal boxing match.”
“I know, I know…”
They pulled up in front of Amy’s house ten minutes later. As Mackenzie had requested, there was a patrol car sitting in the vicinity—across the street and two houses down. Mackenzie and Ellington both subtly showed their badges on the way up the sidewalk, to which the cop in the driver’s seat gave them a thumbs-up.
When Mackenzie knocked, she also verbally announced herself; she figured the young woman would be terrified to answer the door in light of recent events.
“Amy, it’s Agents White and Ellington.”
The sound of hurried footsteps approached the door and it was opened quickly. Amy ushered them inside, her eyes never leaving the yard or the street. She looked incredibly paranoid, to the point of appearing terrified.
“The cop,” Amy said. “Did you ask for him to be there?”
“Yes. Just a security measure.”
Amy nodded and gave a quiet “Thanks” as she guided them into the living room. The room felt smaller upon the second visit. Mackenzie assumed it was because this was where Amy had spent the last few hours, pacing and making the air thick with worry.
“I thought you’d want to know that we have arrested Marshall Cole,” Mackenzie said.
“What?” The word came out rather high-pitched. Her eyes were wide with alarm and hope, a perplexing combination. She had clearly not been expecting such a result.
“There was a truck parked in a barn in the Community,” Ellington said. “There was evidence of a recent collision, along with marks of black paint.”
Amy considered all of this for a moment. She started to pace in a very small loop, four steps one way and four steps back. She was wringing her hands and starting to murmur to herself. Mackenzie couldn’t help but wonder if Amy was going to need some kind of therapy when this was all over.
“It won’t be enough,” she said. “He’ll find a way out of it.”
“Amy, he’s in custody right now. We have him for twenty-four hours. That means if we can approach someone else from the Community who might have answers, they could speak to us without Cole’s watchful eye over them.”
“Nope,” Amy said, shaking her head. “They won’t do it. I can’t even begin to tell you how loyal the people in the Community are. It’s like a cult. Even the women who are being abused remain loyal. It’s…it’s sick.”
“Even if that’s the case, I think we have to try,” Mackenzie said. “Look, Amy…I know you have someone on the inside, working for you. And that person could be the one we need. That’s all we need to figure out what the hell is going on.”
“No,” Amy said, nearly hissing the word through clenched teeth. “I can’t do that.”
Amy started to cry. Mackenzie wondered if it the tears were the result of the stress or regret that she had given up this bit of information about working with someone on the inside.
“Amy, this person could help us figure out who the killer is. Even if it isn’t Cole, someone working with you on the inside would be an invaluable resource.”
“I can’t. If she was found out, they’d probably kill her. She’s risking her life to help me and these women and—”
“—and there’s a killer out there, taking out these women you’re helping to free. So yes, it’s a life or death situation all the way around.”
Amy said nothing, taking the time to digest it all. Mackenzie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen so much turmoil and indecision on a person’s face before.
“We could set it up like a sting operation,” Ellington offered. “Your contact would not be outing Cole or whoever the killer might be at all. If we approach it right and your insider can give just the slightest bit of information, we could potentially catch the killer in the act.”
“I’m sorry, but no,” Amy said. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to remain firm on this. If any part of what you’re describing goes bad, there would be a lot of people that would suffer. You don’t know what it’s like there…”
“You’re right,” Mackenzie said. “We don’t. That’s why we’re trying to help.”
“I’m sorry,” Amy said. She spoke in the tone of a little girl that is afraid if disappointing her parents. But there was confidence there, too—a grit that told Mackenzie no matter how hard she pushed, Amy was not going to budge.
“You know, Amy,” Mackenzie said, sensing that she was venturing onto risky ground. “We’ve got you admitting to a few illegal activities. And if we wanted, we could consider your current refusal as a charge of obstructing a case.”
She let the threat hang in the air for a moment. Amy looked at her with a scowl that, quite honestly, chilled Mackenzie’s blood for a moment. Amy strode over to Mackenzie, making her wonder if the young woman was going to hit her.
<
br /> She did not strike Mackenzie, though. Instead, Amy offered her wrists. She stared at Mackenzie, then to Ellington and back again. Her gaze was unflinching.
“Go ahead, then. Arrest me. Because I’m not giving you the name.”
Mackenzie didn’t bother wasting time on furthering the charade. She gently reached out and pushed Amy’s arms down. “We aren’t going to arrest you. You certainly aren’t the killer and if you’re refusing to give up the name of your insider, you remain our closest source to the Community. But Amy, please remember…our first objective as agents is not to bring down the Community. We’re here to find a killer. You understand that, right?”
“Right.”
“So if you come across any information that might help that, at the same time, would not out your insider, would you please let us know?”
“Of course.”
“And you don’t need to worry,” Ellington said. “We’ve spoken with Sheriff Burke. There will be a police presence on your street until all of this is wrapped.”
Amy sat down on the couch and sighed. She wiped her tears away and looked earnestly at both of them. “I wish I could be of more help. But there are innocent lives on the line and I just…I don’t know what to do.”
“I know.” Mackenzie sat down next to her and took the young woman’s hand. “But you’ll be safe now. And Agent Ellington and I won’t go anywhere until we find this killer. Just tell us this: do you think your insider might know who the killer is?”
“No. I’m all but certain she’s just as clueless as we are.”
“Well, if that’s the case, you need to make sure she’s more careful than ever. At the risk of sounding selfish, she needs to be watching her back. If the killer knew where to find the girls that escaped, they may also know who’s helping them. Namely you…and maybe your insider as well.”
Amy nodded curtly, so Mackenzie said nothing else. She sat there with Amy as Ellington looked back out the living room window toward the police car across the street. Amy’s living room was quiet as Mackenzie tried to be there for her while she calmed down. And in that silence, Mackenzie got an idea that, while maybe a bit dishonest, was going to be their best bet at getting some answers.
