by Blake Pierce
“Apartment thirty-three has been rented out for several years and the landlord says he’s only ever met the guy once. Rent shows up in the mail right on time every month, always cash. He says he doesn’t have any record of mail delivery for that apartment.”
“Thirty-three,” Mackenzie said to Ellington.
She hung up on McGrath as she and Ellington bounded up the stairs while the sound of even more approaching sirens filled the world outside.
***
Apartment number thirty-three was, of course, locked. Mackenzie stepped aside to allow Ellington room to take one stride back toward the wall before he delivered a vicious kick to the side of the door just beneath the knob. The first attack only splintered the frame and loosened the knob. With a grunt of frustration, Ellington backed up once more. This time he threw his shoulder into it, nearly diving into the door shoulder-first.
The door blasted open, the blow so hard that the top hinge popped loose and went clattering to the floor. With the door knocked down, Mackenzie strode in behind Ellington. The doorway led into a small kitchen area which was directly linked to a living room, separated only by a small bar area.
“Hello?” Mackenzie called. “Is there anyone here?”
Only silence greeted them. They stood absolutely still, listening for the sound again.
“Hello?” Mackenzie said again, louder this time.
The returning silence was unnerving. They started to investigate the place, starting in the living room and then splitting up to check the rest of the place. It was sparsely furnished, with only a couch and a coffee table in the living area.
Makes sense, if he’s only using it to bring women back to have sex with them…or kill them, Mackenzie thought.
Mackenzie checked the one bedroom while Ellington looked into the small office space off of the living room. The bedroom looked like a place someone might squat in, with nothing but a bare mattress on the floor and dark curtains over the windows. She checked the closet and found it just as desolate.
She walked out of the bedroom and started down the hallway. She came to a door that she assumed would either lead to the bathroom or another closet. She opened it up and instantly stepped back at what she saw inside.
There was a woman in the closet. She was naked and hanging by handcuffs from a steel runner that ran the length of the closet—a runner that was, in a more traditional sense, used to hang clothes from. Her mouth was taped up by several layers of black electrical tape, a few of the strands wrapping all the way around the lower part of her head. It looked as if her left shoulder was out of socket, the arm bent back at a sick angle away from the rest of her body while it was forcibly pulled up by the handcuffs.
There were a few bruises on her body and a thin river of dried blood on the side of her face. The two worst bruises were located directly above her breast and along most of her neck.
The woman’s head hung down low. Her chest did not rise and fall, and she did not make a single sound.
They were too late.
The woman was dead.
“Babe…” she said. It was probably the first time she had referred to Ellington in such a way while on the job. But in that moment, she was not aware of it. Her heart was breaking and a cauldron of sheer hatred and animosity started to bubble in her guts.
Ellington came rushing in her direction. When his eyes fell on the woman in the closet, he let out a little gasp and then wrapped an arm around Mackenzie.
“He knew she’d be dead,” Ellington said. “Or he maybe even already knew she was dead. This is not our fault. We couldn’t have gotten here in time. There’s no way we could have known.”
In her heart, Mackenzie knew he was right. But that anger in her stomach was radiating out, causing her to tremble. She was so angry and overcome with emotion that when tears started to spill out of her eyes, it only enraged her further.
“Come on,” Ellington said, guiding her away from the closet. “Let’s get the cops in on this. You need to rest. You need to get away from this.”
She allowed herself to be led away from the sight of the body in the closet. She wondered how long the poor woman had been hanging there before she died. She wondered if she had died from external injuries, starvation, maybe something else.
But she pushed all of those questions away. She allowed them to drift off to be answered later. For right now, she focused all of her attention on a man who sat in an interrogation room about half an hour away.
He would be free of his handcuffs thanks to his little tip, and as Ellington had suggested, he had likely known this fourth woman was dead.
The idea that he had indeed been in control after all stoked the fires of her hate and despite the overwhelming emotion Mackenzie could not wait to be face to face with him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
An hour and a half later, Mackenzie was standing in a conference room just two doors way from the interrogation room that contained Eric Connor. To one side, there was Ellington. He was holding her hand and looking at her in a way that made her feel beyond loved. Sitting at the table with a notepad in his hand and a scowl on his face was McGrath.
“In the time you’ve been gone, he’s said only one thing. Every time someone tries to engage him in conversation, he says the same thing. ‘I’m waiting on Agent White.’ And that’s all we get out of him.”
“It’s his last grasp of control,” she said. “I don’t know why he essentially confessed without much grilling…maybe because he wanted to flaunt it in front of us. Look what I got away with…your failings cost the lives of four women. Demanding to speak to me and no one else is just him trying to maintain control.”
“You don’t have to speak with him,” Ellington said. “We’ve got your recording plus the fact that he told us a general location of where the fourth woman was. It’s enough to convict. It’ll be a long trial with lots of ins and outs, but I think it would be enough.”
“I agree,” McGrath said. “Agent White, this is your call.”
“I’ll talk to him,” she said. “If nothing else, it will be closure for me.”
McGrath nodded, not bothering to argue. Mackenzie figured he’d been expecting as much. “We’ll be right outside the door. If you can get a verbal confession out of him, that’s preferable. If not…don’t push too hard. You’ve done more than enough…more than I’ve been comfortable with, if I’m being honest.”
Ellington reached out and took her hand. “Are you sure? You owe him nothing. I don’t want you playing into his hands.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m at least sending a policeman in there with you,” McGrath said.
Mackenzie didn’t think it was necessary, but she didn’t bother arguing. Without another word, she exited the conference room and headed down the hallway to the interrogation room. She didn’t pause before entering or make any sort of dramatic entrance. She simply entered the room as if she were a causal visitor. A uniformed cop came rushing in behind her at McGrath’s urging. The cop closed the door behind them as Mackenzie settled in to the seat opposite Eric Connor.
“The woman was ID’ed as Bridgette Minkus,” Mackenzie said. “We found her dead, hanging from her wrists in your closet.”
Connor seemed a little surprised by this. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The police officer, maybe not liking the tension, moved slightly behind Connor so that he was covered from the front by Mackenzie and from the back by himself. In that moment, Mackenzie noted that Connor’s hands were still uncuffed from having made his little deal with Ellington.
“You look surprised,” Mackenzie said. “Did you not think we’d find her so soon? You know…for someone who craves control, smaller details escape you pretty easily. Marie Totino’s car in the parking lot of the building, for instance. And her cell phone, right there in the center console.”
“I figured she’d be dead,” Connor said nonchalantly. “She was quite weak when I checked in on her this morning. I planned to get
rid of her this afternoon, after the conference.”
“Did Dumfries help with that sort of detail, too?”
“No. He hasn’t helped me in things like this for a while. I believe the only reason he remained loyal to me was because of some dirt I had on him. Dirt involving his wife.”
“The calls to his residence…the ones your bodyguards helped clean up…”
“Those were my messes. Dumfries was very understanding. He knew his wife and I were having an affair. And when she wanted out…well, I didn’t like that. But Dumfries chose his career over his wife. He took the fall.”
This guy is deluded and deranged, Mackenzie thought. And very dangerous. Crazy, maybe.
“You haven’t given an actual confession,” Mackenzie said. “But we have enough small crumbs to take this to court. My recording, you giving us the general whereabouts of the fourth body. If Dumfries is at all involved in this, now is the time to tell us.”
“No. Dumfries never killed anyone. He does have quite the love for ladies of the night. But…if you’re going to arrest everyone that has that craving within DC, you’ll pack this place out.”
“You led me to a dead woman, knowing she’d likely be dead when we got there,” Mackenzie said. “I know you think that was your way of stringing us along—of keeping your position of power and control. But that’s over now. When I step out of this room, you won’t speak with me again. So if you have anything else to say, now is the time.”
“You think I don’t have control? You think I’m powerless? I’ve had you and your friends running in circles…going after idiots like Humphrey and Dumfries. And why? Because even I know that your precious bureau is hesitant to go after senators. Too much money and red tape involved. Agent White…I’ve been in control of this situation before you even attended the academy, I guarantee it. And I will maintain control of this entire case.”
“If you say so,” Mackenzie said.
“Oh, I do. And I feel that you won’t even get to see me go down. Because I won’t let that happen.”
“You truly are delusional,” she said.
Done with this nonsense, she got up from her chair, anxious to be away from the power-hungry maniac. As she turned her back, she heard a commotion from behind her. She was fully expecting to see Connor scrambling over the table for her when she turned around, but she saw something entirely different and unexpected.
Connor had driven his elbow into the stomach of the cop behind him. As Mackenzie’s eyes fell on the scene, Connor’s hand was freeing the cop’s gun from his holster. The cop fought back, but it was too late. By the time the cop had his hand wrapped around Connor’s arm, Connor had positioned the gun in the way he needed.
It was not aimed at Mackenzie, but at himself.
Still, when he pulled the trigger, Mackenzie fully expected the bullet to come for her, passing through her heart or head.
She did not truly feel free from the threat of it until the aftermath sank in.
The cop fell to the ground with a scream. But based on the rest of what she saw, she didn’t think he had actually been hurt.
Connor hadn’t had time to properly position the gun, so it had gone in through his jaw at an upward angle rather than through the bottom of his chin. Still, the effect had been equally effective and gruesome. He collapsed in the chair, falling out in a dead heap as blood cascaded out of his head and onto the floor.
“Mackenzie!”
The door came flying open and Ellington practically dove toward her. McGrath came in behind him, his gun drawn. After he took in the situation, he went to the fallen officer. He had not been shot, but his face was covered in the gore of Connor’s shot.
Mac…Mac…” Ellington said, taking her in his arms.
Behind them, more policemen rushed into the room. And even though the entire ordeal was now over—their suspect dead on the floor by his own hand—one thing occurred to Mackenzie that chilled her to the core.
In ending his own life in the wake of a near-confession, Eric Connor left the world on his own terms—and in control of his fate.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Three days later, Mackenzie was waiting in McGrath’s reception area. She was alone, as Ellington was working with Yardley and Harrison on finalizing the full list of charges that would officially be brought against Eric Connor in the weeks to come. And because McGrath’s secretary wasn’t even at work yet, the place was dead quiet.
When she heard the elevator ping open from the doorway, she figured it was McGrath. He’d wanted her here early, wanted to make sure they didn’t have any distractions that might come up during the day to interfere with being able to meet. Secretly, though, Mackenzie was worried that he had planned it so early in the morning so that she would not be able to put any hours in—that he fully intended to suspend her.
Sure enough, McGrath came into the reception area a few seconds later. He had a coffee in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He looked to be in a good mood, his face not pulled slightly down in that permanent sneer he seemed to always wear.
“Good morning, White. Come on in.”
He unlocked his office and went directly behind his desk, where he started to set up his workspace. Mackenzie settled into her usual chair—the chair that always made her feel as if she was visiting the principal’s office.
“Did you hear the news?” he asked.
“Doubtful. I’ve sort of been zoned out and doing nothing these last three days.”
“There is a huge push for Neil Rooney to fill in for Eric Connor. As of right now, the slot is vacant. And while I honestly don’t know all of the rules and legislation, it looks like he’s going to get it. There will be a vote, of course, but based on the excellent way he’s handled himself in the last few days based on what happened with Connor, he’s almost certain to get it. And if it goes well there, this is not just Rooney getting his foot in the door of higher political offices—this is Rooney basically tearing every damned door down.”
“That’s good, right? It seems he’s a stand-up guy.”
“Seems that way. Of course…the vast majority of people thought the same about Connor. Since he died, a few women have come forward and spilled some other details about him. So far we’re up to about five cases of rape, one of which included a pregnancy and abortion.”
“Any news on Bridgette Minkus?”
“A bit, mostly from family and, believe it not, from Daniel Humphrey, who has all of a sudden become quite helpful. It seems Bridgette had been meeting with Eric Connor off and on for about a year. She met him at a rally here in DC and exchanged numbers. After a while, they became physical. It was just sex and nothing more. That came from some of her friends…and that’s about all we have.
“As for Eric Connor…it’s not just women coming forward. People like Dumfries are revealing that Connor was making money on deals concerning drug and sex trafficking. He said it was common for Connor to be involved in parties that basically devolved into drug orgies. Dumfries himself has basically been ostracized for having taken part in some of them.”
“So this case sort of did some political spring cleaning in other words?”
“It did. And I hate to tell you, but your name is bound to end up in the news as well. For now, the reports are only showcasing that it was a bureau effort. We’re trying to keep it quiet but this case has rocked DC. Journalists are going to dig and your name is sure to come up.”
“It’ll be something to keep me entertained while I’m at home for the next few months, right?” she said.
He smiled and sighed deeply. “About that. Look…I’m honestly not all that upset about you hiding the pregnancy from me. You’re stubborn at heart and you love your job. I get why you did it. But, Agent White…the stunt you and Ellington pulled at the conference…not to mention your visit out to Richmond to speak with Earl Jackson…I wish I could say these were things that were very much unlike you. But the fact of the matter is, they are very much like you. And I need that
to stop. And quite frankly, it will stop.” He paused here and leaned forward. The sincerity on his face was taking Mackenzie off guard. “How far along are you?” he asked.
“Coming up on seventeen weeks.”
“Are you going to find out the sex?”
It was such a friendly question that she had to bite back a smile. “We haven’t decided yet.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I have to reprimand you, White. Certainly, you know that. So in the interest of sticking to protocol and being a decent human being that realizes you are about to have a baby, here’s the deal I have for you. And it is non-negotiable.”
“Okay…”
“I want you to finish out the week, helping to put the last pieces of this Eric Connor case to bed. Follow up on all the loose ends you need to. Get it done by Friday. Because effective Monday morning, you’re suspended for the duration of your pregnancy. Between the two of us, I have looked all over the books for some way to skew this into an extended maternity leave sort of situation, but there’s nothing. Not unless the baby is in danger. And apparently, your baby is as tough as you…so that’s not an option.”
“Sir, that’s almost five months. Can’t you at least assign me to research and resource tasks from home?”
“No. It’s a suspension, plain and simple. Like I said…non-negotiable.”
Mackenzie nodded, trying to make sure she did not cry in front of McGrath. “I understand. Is that all?”
“Yes. You’re excused. But…look…good work on this. I was about to fire you on the spot for having us chase after a senator. Typically, that doesn’t go well for the bureau. So I’m glad you stuck with your gut. You never fail to impress me, Mackenzie. Don’t let this little dent of a suspension get in the way of that.”
