BEFORE HE FEELS Page 2

  “Oh, I don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “I was just wondering if you might want to get lunch.”

  “I can do that,” she said. “Meet me downstairs in about half an hour and—”

  Her desk phone rang, interrupting her. She read the display and saw that it was coming from McGrath’s extension. “One second,” she said. “This is McGrath.”

  Ellington nodded and made a playfully stern face.

  “This is Agent White,” she said.

  “White, it’s McGrath. I need to see you in my office as soon as possible about a new assignment. Round up Ellington and bring him with you.”

  She opened her mouth to say Yes sir, but McGrath killed the call before she could so much as draw up a breath.

  “Looks like lunch has to wait,” she said. “McGrath needs to see us.”

  They shared an awkward glance as the same thought passed between them. They’d often wondered how long they’d be able to keep their romantic relationship a secret from their co-workers, particularly McGrath.

  “You think he knows?” Ellington asked.

  Mackenzie shrugged. “I don’t know. But he did say he needs to see us about an assignment. So if he does know, that’s apparently not the purpose behind the call.”

  “Let’s go find out then,” Ellington said.

  Mackenzie logged out of her computer and joined Ellington as they headed through the building and toward McGrath’s office. She tried to tell herself that she really didn’t care if McGrath knew about them. It wasn’t grounds for suspension or anything like that, but he would likely never allow them to work again if he did find out.

  So while she tried her best to not care, there was also some worry there. She did her best to swallow it down as they neared McGrath’s office while trying to purposefully walk as far away from Ellington as possible.

  ***

  McGrath eyed them suspiciously as they took the two seats across from his desk. It was a seat Mackenzie was growing used to, sitting there and getting either lectured or praised by McGrath. She wondered which it would be today before he handed them their assignment.

  “So, let’s deal with some housekeeping first,” McGrath said. “It’s become clear to me that there’s something going on between you two. I don’t know if it’s love or just a fling or what…and I honestly don’t care. But this is your one and only warning. If it gets in the way of your work, you’ll never be partnered up again. And that would be a damned shame because you work really well together. Am I understood?”

  Mackenzie didn’t see the point in denying it. “Yes sir.”

  Ellington echoed her response and she smirked when she saw that he looked embarrassed. She figured he wasn’t the sort who was used to getting reprimanded by those above him.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get to the case,” McGrath said. “We got a call from the sheriff of a small southern town called Stateton. There’s a home for the blind located there—and that’s about all there is, from what I gather. Last night, a blind woman was killed extremely close to the premises. And while that’s certainly tragic enough, it’s the second murder of a blind person in the state of Virginia within ten days. In both cases, there appears to be trauma to the neck, indicating strangulation, as well as irritation around the eyes.”

  “Was the first victim a member of a home as well?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Yes, though a much smaller one from what I gather. It was originally speculated that the killer was a family member, but it took less than a week for everyone to be cleared. With a second body and what appears to be a very specific set of targets, it’s likely not just coincidental. So you can understand the urgency of this situation, I hope. Honestly, I get a creeping sort of small town feel to this one. Not many people down there, so it should be easier to find a suspect quickly. I’m assigning this to the two of you because I fully expect you to have it wrapped within forty-eight hours. Less would be even better.”

  “Is Agent Harrison not being involved on this one?” Mackenzie asked. Having not spoken to him since the passing of his mother, she felt almost guilty. While he had never truly felt like a partner, she still respected him.

  “Agent Harrison has been tasked elsewhere,” McGrath said. “For this case, he will be a resource to you…research, expedited information, and things of that nature. Are you uncomfortable working with Agent Ellington?”

  “Not at all, sir,” she said, regretting that she had said anything at all.

  “Good. I’ll have human resources book you a room in Stateton. I’m not an idiot…so I’ve requested just one room. If nothing else comes out of this little fling between the two of you, at least it will save the bureau on lodging costs.”

  Mackenzie wasn’t sure if this was McGrath’s attempt at humor. It was hard to tell because the man seemed to never smile.

  As they got up to head out on their assignment, it occurred to Mackenzie how vague McGrath’s response about Harrison had been. He’s been tasked somewhere else, Mackenzie thought. What’s that supposed to mean?

  That wasn’t for her to be concerned with, though. Instead, she had been assigned a case that McGrath was expecting a quick turnaround on. Already, she could feel the challenge brewing inside of her, pushing her to get started right away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mackenzie felt a chill pass through her as Ellington guided them down State Route 47, deeper into the heart of rural Virginia. A few cornfields popped up here and there, breaking the monotony of sprawling fields and forests. The number of cornfields was no match for what she was used to in Nebraska, but the sight of them still made her a bit uneasy.

  Luckily, the closer they got to the town of Stateton, the fewer cornfields she saw. They were replaced by freshly leveled acres of land that had been torn up by local lumber companies. In doing research on the area on the four-and-a-half-hour drive down, she’d seen where there was a fairly large lumber distributor in a neighboring town. As for the town of Stateton, though, it was the Wakeman Home for the Blind, a few antique stores, and very little else.

  “Anything those case files tell you that I’m not privy to yet? It’s hard to read the constant flow of emails from over here in the driver’s seat.”

  “Nothing, really,” she said. “It looks like we’ll need to go through the same procedures as always. Visiting the families, the home for the blind, things like that.”

  “Visiting the families…should be easy in an inbred little town like this, huh?”

  She was shocked at first but then let it pass. She had learned after a few weeks together as what she supposed could be considered “a couple” that Ellington had a relatively active sense of humor; it could be dry at times, though.

  “You ever spend much time in a place like this?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Summer camp,” Ellington said. “It’s a chunk of my teenage years I’d really like to forget. You? Was it ever this bad out in Nebraska?”

  “Not quite like this, but it was desolate sometimes. There are times when I think I prefer the quiet out here, in places like this, more than I enjoy the packed traffic and people in places like DC.”

  “Yeah, I think I could see that.”

  It was fun for Mackenzie to be able to get to know Ellington better without the trappings of a traditional dating relationship. Rather than learning about one another over fancy dinners or long walks in a park, they had gotten to know one another over car rides and time spent in FBI offices or conferences rooms. And she’d enjoyed every minute of it. Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever get tired of getting to know him.

  So far, she wasn’t sure it would be possible.

  Up ahead, a small sign along the side of the road welcomed them to Stateton, Virginia. A simple two-lane road led them through more trees. A few houses and their lawns broke the monotony of the forest for about a mile or so before any real signs of a town took over. They passed by a greasy spoon–type diner, a barbershop, two antique stores, a farm supply store, two
mini-marts, a post office, and then, about two miles beyond all of that, a perfectly square brick building just off the main road. A very military-style sign out front read Staunton County Police Department and Correctional Facility

  “Ever seen that before?” Ellington asked. “A police department and the county jail in one building?”

  “A few times in Nebraska,” she said. “I think it’s pretty common in places like these. The closest actual prison to Stateton is in Petersburg, and that’s about eighty miles away, I think.”

  “Jesus, this place is small. We should have this wrapped up pretty quickly.”

  Mackenzie nodded as Ellington turned into the driveway and into the parking lot of the large brick building that looked as if it sat literally in the middle of nowhere.

  What she was thinking but did not say was: I hope you didn’t just jinx us.

  ***

  Mackenzie smelled dark coffee and something like Febreeze when they stepped into the small lobby at the front of the building. It looked quite nice inside, but it was an old building. Its age could be seen in the ceiling cracks and the obvious need for new carpet in the lobby. An enormous desk sat along the far wall and while it also looked as old as the rest of the building, it looked well-kept.

  An older woman sat behind the desk, sorting through a large binder. When she heard Mackenzie and Ellington enter, she looked up with a huge smile. It was a beautiful smile but it also showed her age. Mackenzie guessed her to be reaching seventy.

  “You the agents with the FBI?” the aging lady asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” Mackenzie said. “I’m Agent White and this is my partner, Agent Ellington. Is the sheriff around?”

  “He is,” she said. “In fact, he’s asked me to direct you straight to his office. He’s quite busy fielding calls about this latest horrible death. Just head down to the corridor to your left. His office is the last door on the right.”

  They followed her directions and as they headed down the long corridor that led to the back of the building, Mackenzie was taken aback by the silence of the place. In the midst of a murder case, she’d expected the place to be abuzz with activity, even if it was the middle of nowhere.

  As they headed for the back of the corridor, Mackenzie noticed a few signs that had been posted on the walls. One said: Prison Access Requires Keycard. Another read: All Prison Visits Must Be Cleared by County Officials! Approval Must Be Presented At Time of Visit!

  Her mind started to race with thoughts of the maintenance and regulations that must have to be in place for a prison and a police department to share the same space. It was quite fascinating to her. But before her mind could get going any further, they reached the office at the back of the corridor.

  Gold letters had been painted on the upper glass portion of the door, reading Sheriff Clarke. The door was partially open, so Mackenzie slowly opened it to the sound of a man’s burly voice. When she peeked inside, she saw a heavyset man behind a desk, speaking loudly into his desk phone. Another man was sitting in a chair in the corner, furiously texting something on his cell phone.

  The man behind the desk—Sheriff Clarke, Mackenzie presumed—interrupted himself on the phone as she opened the door.

  “One minute, Randall,” he said. He then covered the mouthpiece and looked back and forth between Mackenzie and Ellington.

  “You with the bureau?” he asked.

  “We are,” Ellington said.

  “Thank God,” he sighed. “Give me a second.” He then uncapped the mouthpiece and continued with his other conversation. “Look, Randall, the cavalry just arrived. Will you be available in fifteen minutes? Yeah? Okay, good. See you then.”

  The heavyset man hung up the phone and came around the desk. He offered a meaty hand to them, approaching Ellington first. “Good to meet you,” he said. “I’m Sheriff Robert Clarke. This,” he said, nodding toward the man sitting in the corner, “is Officer Keith Lambert. My deputy is out patrolling the streets right now, doing his best to find some sort of lead on this rapidly growing clusterfuck.”

  He nearly forgot about Mackenzie when he was done shaking Ellington’s hand, offering another handshake to her almost as an afterthought. When she shook it, she did the intros, hoping it would clue him in to the fact that she was just as capable of leading this investigation as the men in the room. Instantly, old ghosts from Nebraska started rattling the chains in her head.

  “Sheriff Clarke, I’m Agent White and this is Agent Ellington. Will you be our liaison here in Stateton?”

  “Sweetie, I’ll be just about your everything while you’re here,” he said. “The police force for the entire county numbers a whopping twelve people. Thirteen if you count Frances out there at the front desk and dispatch. With this murder spree going on, we’re spread just a little thin.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do to lighten your load,” Mackenzie said.

  “I wish it was that easy,” he said. “Even if we solve this fucking thing today, I’m going to have half the board of supervisors for the county up my ass.”

  “Why is that?” Ellington asked.

  “Well, the local papers just got wind of who the victim was. Ellis Ridgeway. The mother of an up-and-coming scum-sucking douchebag politician. Some say he might make the senate within another five years.”

  “And who is that?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Langston Ridgeway. Twenty-eight years old and thinks he’s John Fucking Kennedy.”

  “Is that so?” Mackenzie said, a little shocked that had not been included in the reports.

  “Yeah. How the local paper got that information is beyond me. The morons can’t spell right half the time, but this they get.”

  “I saw signs for the Wakeman Home for the Blind on our way in,” Mackenzie said. “It’s only six miles from here, is that correct?”

  “On the money,” Clarke said. “I was just talking to Randall Jones, the manager over there. That’s who I was on the phone with when you came in. He’s over there right now to answer any questions you have. And the sooner the better. He’s got the press and some county bigwigs calling him and bugging the shit out of him.”

  “Well, let’s head over there,” Mackenzie said. “Will you be coming with us?”

  “No way, sweetie. I’m swamped as it is here. But please do come back by when you’re done with Randall. I’ll help you however I can but really…I’d love for you two to take this ball and run with it.”

  “No problem,” Mackenzie said. She wasn’t quite sure how to handle Clarke. He was up front and bluntly honest, which was good. He also seemed to really love dropping curse words. She also thought that when he called her sweetie, he wasn’t being insulting. It was that weird sort of southern charm.

  Also, the man was stressed beyond his means.

  “We’ll come right back here when we’re done at the home,” Mackenzie said. “Please call us if you hear anything new between now and then.”

  “Of course,” Clarke said.

  In the corner, still texting on his phone, Officer Lambert grunted in agreement.

  Having spent less than three minutes in Sheriff Clarke’s office, Mackenzie and Ellington walked back down the corridor and exited through the lobby. The older woman, whom Mackenzie assumed was the Frances that Clarke had mentioned, waved at them briskly as they made their exit.

  “Well, that was…interesting,” Ellington said.

  “The man is in over his head,” she said. “Give him a break.”

  “You just like him because he calls you sweetie,” Ellington said.

  “And?” she said with a smile.

  “Hey, I can start calling you sweetie.”

  “Please don’t,” she said as they got into the car.

  Ellington drove them half a mile down Highway 47 and then took a left onto a back road. Right away, they saw a sign for the Wakeman Home for the Blind. As they got closer to the property, Mackenzie started to wonder why someone would have chosen such a random and isolated location f
or a home for the blind. Surely there was some sort of psychological meaning behind it. Perhaps being located in the middle of nowhere helped them to relax, removed from the constant droning noises of a larger city.

  All she knew for sure was that as the trees grew thicker around them, she started to feel more choked off from the rest of the world. And for the first time in a very long time, she almost yearned for the familiar sights of those cornfields of her youth.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Wakeman Home for the Blind did not look at all like Mackenzie was expecting. In contrast to the Staunton County Police Department and Correctional Facility, the Wakeman Home for the Blind looked like a marvel of modern design and construction—and that was a view Mackenzie arrived at before they even stepped foot inside.

  The front of the place was made of large glass windows that seemed to make up the majority of the walls. Halfway down the sidewalk toward the entrance, Mackenzie could already see inside. She saw a large lobby that looked like something straight out of some sort of spa. It was friendly looking and inviting.

  It was a feeling that only intensified once they stepped inside. Everything was very clean and looked new. In the research she had done on the way to Stateton, she’d discovered that the Wakeman Home for the Blind had only just been built in 2007. When it had been built, there had been a slight hurrah within Staunton County, as it brought in new jobs and commerce. Now, however, while it was still one of the more prominent buildings in the county, the excitement had died down and the home seemed to have gotten swallowed up by its rural surroundings.

  A young woman sat behind a curved counter along the back wall. She greeted them with a smile, though it was clear that she was troubled. Mackenzie and Ellington approached her, introduced themselves, and were promptly asked to take a seat in the waiting area while Randall Jones came out to meet them.

  As it turned out, Randall Jones was very anxious to meet with them. Mackenzie had been sitting for no more than ten seconds before a set of double doors leading to the back of the building opened up on the other side of the waiting room. A tall man wearing a button-down shirt and khakis stepped through. He tried on a smile as he introduced himself, but, just like the receptionist, he could not hide the fact that he was tired and very troubled.