by Blake Pierce
She felt like she had come full circle. Traveling here alone, seeing her mother, relishing the wide open spaces the state had to offer. Even though she was not one for sentiment, she could not ignore the draw to go back by her old station—the station where she started her career as a detective almost six years ago.
After grabbing breakfast, she did just that. It was an hour and a half drive from her hotel in Lincoln. Her plane did not leave for DC for another seven hours, so she had plenty of time. She honestly didn’t even know why she was going. She had not cared much for her supervisor and, as ashamed as she was to admit it to herself, she could barely remember anyone she worked with. She did, of course, remember Officer Walter Porter. He had served as her partner for a small stretch of time and had been by her side during the Scarecrow Killer case—the case that had eventually attracted the attention of the FBI and their pursuit of her.
All of the memories came trickling back as she parked her car across the street from the station. It looked so much smaller now, but in a way that made her proud to know it. More than nostalgia, it was a heartwarming familiarity.
She crossed the street and stepped inside, unable to stop the smile from touching the corner of her lips. The small entryway led to a receptionist-type desk, which was paneled in with a sliding glass. Behind the woman sitting at the desk, a small bullpen of sorts was set up and looked exactly the same as it had when Mackenzie had last stepped foot in the building. She approached the glass, delighted to find a familiar face, albeit one she had not thought of in a very long time, sitting behind the glass.
Nancy Yule looked as if she had not aged a bit. She still had the pictures of her kids perched at her desk, and the same little plaque by her phone, reciting a bit of scripture that Mackenzie could not remember.
Nancy looked up and it took her a few seconds to realize who had just walked in the door. “Oh my God,” Nancy said, getting to her feet and rushing to the door on the far side of the paneled wall. The door came open and Nancy came rushing out, capturing Mackenzie in a hug.
“Nancy, how are you?” Mackenzie said in the grip of the hug.
“Same old, same old,” Nancy said. “How are you? You look fantastic!”
“Thanks. I’m good. I just came out to visit my mother and thought I’d stop by to see my old haunts before I headed back home.”
“Is home still in DC?”
“It is.”
“Still with the bureau?”
“I am. Sort of living the dream, I don’t mind saying. Got married, had a child.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Nancy said, and Mackenzie didn’t doubt she meant it. A little flicker of sadness came to her face, though, when she added: “Though, I’m not so sure your visit here is going to be prove very happy. Just about everything around here has changed.”
“Like what?”
“Well, Chief Nelson retired last year. Sergeant Berryhill stepped up and filled in his place. Do you remember him?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “No, I can’t say that I do. Hey, would you happen to have an address or phone number for Walter Porter? I have a number for him but it hasn’t worked in quite some time.”
“Oh, sweetie, I forgot you were his partner there for a while. I….well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Walter died about eight months ago. He had a pretty massive heart attack.”
“Oh,” was all that Mackenzie could think to say. She also wondered if she was a terrible person for not being too terribly saddened by the news. Honestly, though, he seemed like nothing more than a passing acquaintance at best.
“That’s terrible,” she said. She glanced back through the glass, into the bullpen and the hallways beyond where she had spent nearly five years of her life. This was the epicenter of where she had made her first arrest, solved her first case, pissed off her first male supervisor numerous times.
They were all fond memories, but they felt like nothing more than faded photographs.
“There might be a few officers out on patrol that you once worked with,” Nancy commented. “Sauer, Baker, Hudson…”
“I don’t want to interrupt anyone’s day,” Mackenzie said. “I was really just taking a walk down memory lane and—”
The buzzing of her cell phone from her pocket interrupted her. She grabbed for it instantly, assuming it would be Ellington with a story about something cute Kevin had done—or some medical issue. Their baby boy had been healthy for his entire three and a half months of life and they were just waiting for that first doctor’s visit.
But the name she saw on her display was absolutely not one she had been expecting while on her little sabbatical out to Nebraska. The display read McGrath.
“Excuse me, Nancy. I need to take this.”
Nancy gave a little nod and stepped back through the doorway toward her desk as Mackenzie took the call.
“This is Agent White.”
“Based on how you’re answering the phone, can I assume you’re going to stay with us?” McGrath said. There was no humor in his voice. If anything, it almost sounded as if he were trying to convince her.
“Sorry. Habit. I still don’t know yet.”
“Well, maybe I can help. Listen…I respect what you’re going through and appreciate the honesty you showed in my office the other day. But I’m calling to ask you something of a favor. Not a favor, really, because it’s technically part of a job you still have. But I got a call about a case an hour or so ago. It’s in Wyoming, so it’s out your way. And since you just happen to be out there, I thought I’d give you first crack at it. Seems like an easy one. You may not have to do much more than show up, check out a crime scene, and question a few people.”
“I thought you said you respected the conversation we had in your office.”
“I do. Which is why I’m offering you the case first. You’re already out that way, it looks to be simple…and I figure it could be a good test to see if your heart is still in it. You’ve also recently worked another case that was sort of similar from the looks of it. If you say no, that’s perfectly fine. I can get someone out there as soon as tomorrow morning.”
The feeling of her life coming full circle washed over her again. Here she was, standing in the station she had started out in as a hopeful officer with ambitions of being a detective—ambitions that she achieved in a very short time. And now here she was, speaking to a director with the FBI not even seven years later.
She looked to the other side of the glass, to the desks and offices and hallways. It was easy to see that space and recall the sense of purpose she’d had back then. She still felt it, but it was quite different as a cop just starting out, a woman on a force that was primarily men, wanting to make a difference in the world.
“How simple are we talking?” she asked.
“There’s suspicions that someone is pushing people to their deaths off of popular climbing sites. The latest one was in Grand Teton National Park. So far, there are believed to be two victims.”
“How do we know these aren’t just typical rock-climbing accidents?”
“There’s evidence of violence before the falls.”
Already, Mackenzie’s thoughts were sorting themselves out, trying to come up with answers even at this early stage. And because of that, she knew what her answer for McGrath would be. It had been nearly eight whole months since she had last done anything considered active in regards to her job; the amount of excitement that quickly overtook her as she gave her answer was welcome, but unexpected.
“Send me the case details and trip itinerary. But I want to be back home within two or three days.”
“Of course. I don’t see that being a problem. Thanks, Agent White. I’ll send everything I have to your e-mail.”
Mackenzie ended the call and felt as if she were standing in the middle of a very surreal dream for a moment. Here she was, standing in the first police station she’d ever worked in, ruminating on her past and trying to sort out her future. And now there was this cal
l from McGrath, this unexpected case coming out of nowhere in the middle of it all. It felt like the universe was trying to sway her in her decision-making.
“Mackenzie?”
She was torn away from the absurdity of it all by Nancy Yule’s voice. She smiled and shook her head. “Sorry. Zoned out for a bit.”
“Seemed like an intense call,” Nancy said. “Is everything okay?”
Mackenzie surprised herself a bit when she nodded and said: “Yes. I think everything is just fine, actually.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Seven hours later, she was in the sky somewhere over northern Nebraska, headed for Wyoming. Everything had happened so quickly that she had not had a chance (or any proper location available) to print out the materials that McGrath sent over to her concerning the case out at Grand Teton National Park. Because of that, she was forced to go over all of it on her iPhone.
There honestly wasn’t too much to go over. The police reports were scant at best, as were the forensics reports. When a body fell from such a height, the cause of death wasn’t typically debated all that much. She scanned the documents several times but found nothing—not because of her own skills, but because of a lack of information. Even the details she’d received on the victims wasn’t much to go on. Two people had been involved in fatal rock climbing accidents, but there was evidence to suggest that they may not have been accidents at all. There was a severed rope involved in one of the cases, and a wound on one of the bodies that did not seem to line up with injuries expected from a fall.
Mackenzie made some notes in her phone, wondering if the father had some sort of tie to the cause of his son’s murder. It wasn’t much to go on but given the lack of information she had, at least it was something.
As the plane made its descent into Jackson Hole airport, Mackenzie was able to look out her window and see the peaks of mountains from Grand Teton National Park. It was quite beautiful in the crisp blue sky of the evening, making the idea that there might be a killer running rampant down there all the more unnerving.
The sight also stirred an ache in her heart—an ache for Kevin. She felt like a failure for leaving him behind, like a heartless mother who had already placed certain priorities over her child. But she had read more than enough information on this sort of thing; she knew that such feelings were typical for new parents. Still, it didn’t make the feeling any less real.
When she stepped off of the plane several moments later, she didn’t quite feel like she was on a case. She had come into Jackson Hole in the same clothes she had been wearing when she had walked into the police station and spoke to Nancy Yule. She had obviously not packed her bureau attire for her trip to see her mother, nor had she packed her service weapon. This was something she’d have to sort out with the local PD. Hopefully there would be no hold-ups because there was no FBI field office in Wyoming; the office out of Denver covered the states of Colorado and Wyoming.
This realization made her feel like she was in the middle of nowhere—a feeling that only intensified when she stepped into the airport. It was a nice enough airport for sure, but the thin stream of bodies moving through it made the bustle of Dulles back in DC absolutely chaotic.
It was the lack of human traffic walking through the concourse that made it very easy for Mackenzie to see the woman standing at the end of her gate, dressed in police blues. She looked to be about forty or so, her blonde hair hitched up in a ponytail to reveal a pretty and angular face. She seemed to be watching each and every person that got off of Mackenzie’s flight. When they locked eyes, the female officer nodded politely and met Mackenzie on the concourse floor.
“Are you Agent White?” the woman asked. The silver tag above her left breast identified her as Timbrook.
“I am.”
“Good. I’m Sergeant Shelly Timbrook. I figured I’d meet you here and save you the trouble of renting a car. Besides…the sooner I can get you out to the site, the better. The second victim—a twenty-two-year-old male named Bryce Evans—was found at the bottom of Logan’s View and since that’s located within the park, there’s the worry of the public eye and all that.”
“How far from here is the park entrance?” Mackenzie asked.
“Not even ten minutes. Add another five to that to get us to Logan’s View.”
“Then lead the way,” Mackenzie said.
Timbrook took the lead and headed for the airport exit. Mackenzie followed behind, texting Ellington to let him know that she had arrived and met with local PD. When she had called to tell him about the call from McGrath, he had already known; he said McGrath had called him right after he’d gotten off the phone with her. Ellington had seemed excited for the opportunity, claiming it seemed just like the sort of thing she’d need to get focus.
The hell of it was that he was right. And she wished he could be there with her. Not only was it the longest she had been away from Kevin since he’d been born, but she and Ellington had not spent any more than ten hours apart ever since her maternity leave had started one month before Kevin had arrived.
She missed him. It made her feel far too young and immature, but it was the truth. But she managed to push it to the side for now. She’d make sure to Facetime him and Kevin whenever she was able to check into a hotel. But based on the terrible lack of information in the police reports, she suspected she was in for a rather long afternoon.
***
“I’ll go ahead and get this out of the way,” Timbrook said. “I’m sort of a fan of yours. I know that sounds stupid. But when that whole Scarecrow Killer thing went down in Nebraska a couple year years ago, that was impressive. Do you mind me asking…is that how you ended up with the FBI?”
“More or less.”
“It was refreshing to see you—a young woman—take charge of a force that was primarily men. Made me feel good.”
Mackenzie wasn’t sure how to handle that sort of compliment, so she skipped it entirely and went straight to business.
“I’ve studied the reports on both of the victims and there’s very little there,” she said. “I know the second victim was only discovered yesterday, but why the hold-up on any details for the first victim?”
“Because for the first half a day or so, everyone assumed it was just a tragic accident. Or maybe a suicide. I was even thinking along those lines myself. The body was found at the bottom of Exum Ridge. Mostly likely had been there for several days.”
“How far apart at Logan’s View and Exum Ridge?”
“It’s about two and a half miles. There are a few central trails that run between the two.”
“And the murders are believed to be about four days apart, right?”
“As far as we can tell. That’s based on that the coroners are saying. You have to keep in mind…both bodies were discovered by hikers. We have no way of knowing for sure how long the bodies had been there. Speaking to family and putting together the schedules of the victims, we can only come up with a pretty good idea, but nothing absolute.”
“Can you walk me through what you know of the first victim?”
“Sure. A woman named Mandy Yorke, twenty-three years of age. Her body was discovered at the base of Exum Ridge. She was a good distance away from any of the normal advertised climbing spots, indicating that she was something of a pro. It happens a lot…climbers that get quite good don’t stick to the traditional climbs. They’ll go off the beaten path to find something more challenging. That’s why it was assumed her death was an accident. But when we started looking over the evidence from the crime scene, we saw that her climbing rope had been cut.”
“Intentionally?”
“Sure looked like it. It was a clean cut. We compared it to some old broken ropes at the park. The difference in appearance. A rope that had been frayed and Yorke’s clean-cut one were very different.”
“Any idea where the rope was cut?”
“At the top. It’s as if the killer was waiting there, waiting for Yorke to reach the top and then cut it.”<
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“Any sabotaged equipment from the second victim?” Mackenzie asked.
“None that we could find. The coroner says we got lucky—we as in the investigators—because the victim fell on his back. It allowed us to clearly see the blunt trauma to the head that we are quite sure was not caused by the fall. It looked like he’d been attacked or possible bludgeoned. A rock or a hammer, maybe.”
“Is the entire force on board with this theory?”
“Hardly,” Timbrook said. “The coroner has yet to verify that the injury to the second victim’s brow was not cause by the fall. But just looking at it…well, it tells the story. But that’s not quite good enough, as you know. And while most everyone agrees that the cut to Yorke’s rope does indeed look very clean, not many are ready to consider foul play either. Climbing accidents aren’t uncommon. We get about three or four deaths a year as a result of hiker and climber accidents, and somewhere around fifty injuries.”
“But two deaths in four or five days?” Mackenzie asked.
“I know. I think just about everyone on the force is suspicious but no one wants to go there just yet…not until it’s an absolute certainty.”
Mackenzie nodded slowly. She understood the hesitancy to call two deaths murders when there was no hard evidence. But perhaps more than that, she understood where Timbrook was coming from as well. Mackenzie had been there—the soft-spoken female officer in a sea of men who, while they might respect her, were usually slow to take her ideas as truth. While she certainly realized that equality was becoming more and more the norm in law enforcement, she also knew that some traditions were hard to break out of.
As Timbrook drove into the entrance of Grand Teton National Park, Mackenzie got a better feel for the size of the place. She assumed the peaks she had seen from the airplane had been part of the park. She also started to understand that in a place of this scope and size, security was likely a mere handful.