Before He Hunts
B E F O R E H E H U N T S
(A MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY—BOOK 8)
B L A K E P I E R C E
Blake Pierce
Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes eleven books (and counting). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; and of the new KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising four books (and counting).
ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), and A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Kobo!
An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.
Copyright © 2017 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Will Amey, used under license from Shutterstock.com.
BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE
RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES
ONCE GONE (Book #1)
ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)
ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)
ONCE LURED (Book #4)
ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)
ONCE PINED (Book #6)
ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)
ONCE COLD (Book #8)
ONCE STALKED (Book #9)
ONCE LOST (Book #10)
ONCE BURIED (Book #11)
ONCE BOUND (Book #12)
MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES
BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)
BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)
BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)
BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)
BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)
BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)
BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)
BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)
AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES
CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)
CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)
CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)
CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)
CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)
CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)
KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES
A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)
A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)
A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)
A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)
A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER ONE
The plane was taking her to Nebraska.
Mackenzie blinked, unable to shake the thought from her mind.
She usually had no problem falling asleep on a plane. But this flight was different. She felt like there was something out west that was literally pulling the plane toward it like a magnet. And she would not be returning to Washington, DC, until she had solved a current case that reached nearly twenty years into her past—pointing at the death of her father.
It was a case that had been calling her for years. She’d gone above and beyond to prove herself, and McGrath was finally setting her loose on this case. It was no longer just about the unsolved murder of her father seventeen years ago; similar murders were occurring now, all connected by a mysterious clue that no one had yet deciphered. Business cards featuring the nonexistent business name of Barker Antiques.
Mackenzie thought about those business cards as she looked out the window. The afternoon sky was clear. Beyond the scattering of plump white clouds, she could just barely catch sight of the vein-like structure of roadways that carved through the Midwest down below. Nebraska was close now, its cornfields and flat expanses looming about forty-five minutes ahead.
“You okay?”
She blinked and looked away from the window, turning to her right. Ellington sat in the seat next to her. She knew he was nervous, too. He knew how much this case meant to her and was putting unnecessary pressure on himself. Even now, he was nervously picking at the lid of the cup that had held ginger ale ten minutes ago.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she said. “If I’m being honest, I can’t wait to get started.”
“You got a plan in mind?” he asked.
“I do,” she said.
As she wound her way through her plan of attack, she realized that this was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him. He could tell that she needed to talk through it all but would shut down if he asked her point-blank. So instead of asking about her emotional state, he used the façade of work to pry. She was on to his tricks, but that was okay. He knew how to work around her defenses in a way that was charming and caring.
So she discussed her plan of attack. It all started by meeting with the local PD and the small team of FBI agents that had been working the case. She also planned to bring Kirk Peterson, the private detective who had worked the case for a while, in on it. Although he had been in a miserable state the last time she had seen him, he had the most insight to offer.
From there, she wanted to find and speak with a man named Dennis Parks. His fingerprints had been found on Gabriel Hambry, a man who had been strategically set up as a red herring a week ago. She was well aware that Parks could also be another red herring, but the fact that Dennis Parks had once known her father made it all the more appealing. The connection was a small one—a mutual acquaintance as Parks had served as a police officer for one year before calling it quits and getting into real estate.
Her father, after all, seemed to be the first victim in a string of seemingly random murders that had been spread over nearly two decades.
After meeting with Dennis Parks, she wanted to meet with the family of a man who had been killed several months ago—a man named Jimmy Scotts. Scotts had died in an almost identical fashion as her father and had been the murder that had effectively reopened her father’s case.
She stopped her plans there although she knew there was more to it. But it was something she was not ready to contend with yet—much l
ess verbalize in front of Ellington.
At some point, she was going to have to face her past. She’d been there before, tiptoeing through the house where she grew up. But it had been fleeting. At the time she had not realized it, but it had terrified her. It was like willingly walking into a house you knew to be haunted, locking yourself inside, and then throwing away the key.
She’d have to face it this time around. It was hard enough to admit that to herself without wondering what Ellington would think of it.
He nodded in all the right parts as she carried him through her step-by-step approach. They’d briefly discussed their roles in a meeting with McGrath as they had booked the trip to Nebraska. One element to the seemingly multilayered case was the recent murder of vagrants. The body count was now up to four, each body left with one of the Barker Antiques business cards. Ellington had volunteered to do his best to get that end of the case in order while Mackenzie stayed closer to the core of the case—the deaths of her father and Jimmy Scotts, and the more recent death of Gabriel Hambry.
“You know,” Ellington said when she was done, “if we can wrap this one up, I think your career in DC might hit the stratosphere. You’re already one of the better field agents the bureau has. I hope you like dealing with bureaucratic bullshit and sitting behind a desk. Because that’s what a stellar record with the bureau gets you.”
“Is that so?” she asked. “Then why aren’t you parked behind a desk yet?”
He smirked at her. “That stings, White.”
He reached out and took her hand. She could feel tension in his grip but there was the usual degree of comfort at his touch as well.
She was grateful that he was with her. While she was usually all for tackling things on her own, even she had to admit that she was going to need the moral and emotional support that only Ellington could provide if she had any hope of wrapping this case up.
She held onto his hand as the Midwest continued to roll by beneath them. Nebraska drew closer and closer, the plane pulled on by that magnetic hold that Mackenzie’s past seemed to have over her.
CHAPTER TWO
The Omaha field office was pleasant to the eye. It was smaller than the headquarters in DC, meaning there was less chatter. There was also not the tension of something always on the brink of happening, a trait that the offices in DC were usually rife with. The place felt calming.
As they were signing in at the front desk, Mackenzie noticed a man headed directly for them. He was walking with purpose, a thin smile on his face. His face was familiar but she could not for the life of her recall the man’s name.
“Agent White, it’s great to see you again,” the man said as he approached. He was roughly six feet tall and carried himself well. He was rather slim but still intimidating looking. His slicked back black hair made him look a bit older than he probably was.
“Likewise,” she said, shaking the hand he extended to her.
She was thankful that Ellington remembered his name, using it as the two men greeted one another. “Agent Penbrook,” he said. “Great to see you.”
She then remembered; Agent Darren Penbrook had been the lead on the case when she had flown out in the hopes of arresting Gabriel Hambry—only to find out within less than an hour that he had been killed.
“Come with me,” Penbrook said. “There won’t be much of a meeting, but there are a few details I think you guys should be caught up on…some of which are fairly recent.”
“How recent?” Mackenzie asked.
“Within the last twenty-four hours.”
Mackenzie knew how things worked at most levels within the bureau and assumed they were no different in Omaha than they were in DC. There was no use asking questions in that moment. So during the elevator ride to the second floor and a quick jaunt through a hallway that led to a blocked-off conference room, the three of them passed the time with small talk: the flight, the weather, how busy things stayed in DC.
But those niceties were dashed the moment Penbrook took them into the conference room. He closed the door behind them, leaving the three of them in the large room with an elegant and finely polished conference table. There was already a projector set up and ready to go in the center of the table.
“So what sort of updates were you referring to?” Mackenzie asked.
“Well, you know about the fourth murdered vagrant, right?” he asked.
“Yes. It happened yesterday, right? Sometime in the afternoon?”
“That’s right,” Penbrook said. “He was killed with the same model of gun the others were killed with. This time, though, the killer had placed the business card between the victim’s lips. We had the card tested and there were no fingerprints. The vagrant wasn’t a local. His last known address was in California and that was four years ago. Looking for family members or people he worked with has turned into nothing but a ghost hunt. And that’s been the case with most of these vagrants. We did, however, find his brother. He’s also a vagrant and according to his reports, might be slightly delusional.”
“Is there anything else?” Ellington asked.
“Yes. And this one really sucks. It’s actually thrown us for a loop and is currently where the case is stuck at the moment. You recall the fingerprints we got off of Gabriel Hambry’s body, correct?”
“Yes,” Mackenzie said. “They belonged to a man named Dennis Parks—a man who had a history with my father.”
“Exactly. Sounded like a promising lead, right?”
“I take it the lead fell through?” Mackenzie asked.
“It never had a chance. Dennis Parks was found dead in his bed this morning. Shot in the back of the head. His wife was also killed. From what we can tell, she was also killed while in the bed but her body was moved to the couch.”
Both Penbrook and Ellington looked in Mackenzie’s direction. She knew what they were thinking. The killer set it up to look like the scene at Jimmy Scotts’s murder…like my father’s murder.
Penbrook took this moment to show a slide from the crime scene. It was of Dennis Parks, face down in bed with the back of his head blown out. The positioning of it was almost too eerie for Mackenzie. Had she not known the identity of the victim, she could have easily thought she was looking at a photo from her father’s crime scene all those years ago.
The slide then shifted to an image of the wife. She was on the couch, her dead eyes staring slightly upward. There was dried blood on the side of her face.
“Was there a business card at the scene?” Mackenzie asked.
“Yes,” Penbrook replied. “On the nightstand. And, just so you can get the scope of it all, here’s a shot from the latest vagrant scene.”
He changed slides and Mackenzie found herself looking at a man lying on a city sidewalk. The side of his head was a bloody mess, contrasted almost too perfectly with the white business card that had been partially shoved between his lips.
“It seems like the killer is just having fun at this point,” Ellington said. “That’s messed up.”
He was right. Mackenzie was sure that there was an almost playful nature to the way the card had been placed in the victim’s mouth. Add that to the fact that the killer was also apparently placing fingerprints on the cards and other victims to lead them to red herrings and that meant you had a determined, smart, and morbid killer.
He thinks he’s being funny here, she thought as she looked to the picture of the victim.
“So why is he choosing vagrants to kill?” Mackenzie asked. “If he’s coming back to kill more so long after having killed my father, why the homeless? And is there any connection between these vagrants and Jimmy Scotts or Gabriel Hambry?”
“None that we have found,” Penbrook said.
“So maybe he’s just rubbing our noses in it,” Mackenzie said. “Maybe he knows the deaths of vagrants aren’t going to be as high of a priority as if he were killing everyday citizens. And if that’s the case, he really is doing this as an almost playful act.”
“Th
at about the vagrant community,” Ellington said. “If we ask around, do you think we might get some sort of information from other vagrants in the area?”
“Oh, we’ve tried,” Penbrook said. “But they won’t talk. They’re afraid whoever is doing the killing will come after them next if they speak up.”
“We need to talk to the brother of the latest victim,” Mackenzie said. “Any idea where he might be? Does he live around here?”
“Sort of,” Penbrook said. “Like his brother, he’s living on the streets. Well, he was. He’s at a correctional facility right now. Can’t remember what for, but maybe public intoxication. His record is filled with little misdemeanors that put him in prison for a week or two at a time. It happens a lot, you know. Some of them do it just to get free housing for a few days.”
“You have any problems with us going to see him?” Mackenzie asked.
“Not at all,” Penbrook said. “I’ll have someone make a call and let them know you’re coming.”
“Thanks.”
“I feel like I should be thanking you,” Penbrook said. “We’re excited to finally have you out here working on this thing.”
Finally, she thought. She said nothing, though, and left it at that.
Because the truth was, she was excited, too. She was excited to finally have the opportunity to wrap up a truly bizarre case that reached all the way back into her childhood and pointed directly back to her father.
CHAPTER THREE
Delcroix Correctional Facility was tucked back off of the highway on a patch of land that was bland and featureless. It was the only building on a strip of about five hundred acres of land—not quite a prison per se, but certainly not somewhere a standard person off of the street would want to spend any significant amount of time.
Mackenzie and Ellington were waved through the small security partition at the entrance and directed to park in the employee lot on the back end of the property. From there, they were checked in at the main security check-in and ushered into a small waiting area where there was already a woman waiting for them.