by Blake Pierce
“I get that. But you have to talk to someone about it, right? I mean, you’ve got that detective back in Nebraska keeping an eye out, right?”
She honestly hadn’t even thought of Kirk Peterson in a while—not until Harrison had called her this morning. It made her want to call Peterson right then and there to get more details. But again, she was distracted by how much Ellington knew about her father’s case.
“How do you know so much about the case?” she asked.
He shrugged but an uncomfortable look touched his face. He sensed that he had stepped into dangerous territory but it might be too late to step back. “When I took an interest in you, I took an interest in that case.”
“But I’ve never really talked to you about it,” she said.
“I know. But I wanted to…hell, Mackenzie. I wanted to know more about you. And not just for some selfish ambition. You’re a great agent. I knew you’d be a great agent from the first time I saw you; that’s why I recommended you try for Quantico in the first place. Besides…you did talk to me about it once, in passing. Back in Nebraska when I was sent out there to help with the Scarecrow Killer. Remember?”
She honestly didn’t remember mentioning it to him. But she had been so enamored and overwhelmed by his presence back then that it was all an embarrassing recollection. She had tried so hard to put that first meeting with Ellington out of her mind that it was all really just a blur to her.
“And you did what?” she asked, knowing there was a flare of anger in her voice but not caring. “Just thought you’d dig around and find out more about me and my past?”
“Um…no. But I did look into the case file just to familiarize myself with it. Is that so bad?”
“No, it’s not bad. It’s just…that’s very personal to me.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender—and for some reason, that offended her more than anything else. “Fine,” he said. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s not something to be so flippant about,” she said. She felt a tremor in her voice but wasn’t sure if it was the result of looming anger or sorrow.
“I’m not being flippant about anything,” he said. “Look, seriously, I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was such a big deal. And I—”
“Of course it’s a big deal,” Mackenzie said. She felt anger rising up in her like an angry hive of hornets and, honestly, she had no real idea where it was coming from. Sure, she felt slightly betrayed but underneath all of that, she knew she was overreacting. Maybe she was just too tired, or maybe she was too worked up about this case.
“Jared, I know you mean well, but please shut up.”
She couldn’t remember if she had ever used his first name to his face before. It felt monumental in a weird way. It felt intimate.
“Shut up, huh?” he said, clearly pissed.
“Yes. Just—”
Ellington stood up, not even looking at her. “I’m going to catch a cab back to the precinct and get to work. Maybe come by and say hi when you’re not being so irrational.”
She almost spoke up and asked him to stay. But she bit the words back, not wanting to seem too desperate. She watched him walk away and stared into her now-empty mug of coffee.
Great, she thought. Just what I need: relationship drama in the middle of this hopeless case. How the hell did I even get here? How did this happen?
The waitress came by and refilled her cup. Mackenzie sipped at it slowly, staring off into space and trying her best to sort through the names, events, and crime scenes in her head. With a mind still wanting more sleep, it was surprisingly easy to focus on singular trains of thought. It slowed down her usually frantic pace.
With Samuel now out of the picture and useless, and Gloria and DCM apparently a dead end, what does that leave me? For starters, it leaves me with a sick feeling for Miami—the knowledge that these seedy little sex clubs are thriving so well. How in God’s name am I supposed to find a single link between all of the victims? If these things are so isolated that they head out to sea on cruises, how can I pin anything down?
She thought about the cruise ship, of seeing that bit of footage. The killer had entered and then left the Springses’ room. She’d been sure that had been the last thing they’d need to wrap the case. But no…here she was, as clueless as ever.
Maybe the excitement of seeing the killer on the screen left some loose ends, she thought. There’s more there, details about the cruise and the swingers’ event that went untouched.
She knew this was right and felt irresponsible for leaving so many things unturned. Quickly downing her third cup of coffee, she opened up the notes app on her phone and pulled up the notes she’d taken last night as she and Ellington left the cruise ship.
She had taken down Alexa’s phone number with Alexa giving an enthusiastic promise to help in any way she could. Just like Gloria at DCM, Alexa seemed to have been genuinely shocked and disgusted that someone she might have been involved with in a business sense was killing people.
Mackenzie punched the number in and the line was answered after three rings.
“Hello?” Alexa said, her voice ragged and tired.
“Alexa, it’s Mackenzie White. Do you have a moment?”
There was a slight jostling of the phone from the other end. Although it was after eight o’clock in the morning, it was clear that Alexa was still in bed. It made sense, as she probably ended up getting to bed later than Mackenzie had the night before.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I was hoping to ask you a few more questions about the event that had been planned for last night.”
“I guess I could do that,” she said. “I’m pretty sure the ship ended up leaving this morning, though. I don’t know how many people going to the event stayed on.”
“That’s fine,” Mackenzie said. “I just have some basic questions.”
“Okay. Do you think you could ask them over breakfast?”
Mackenzie looked down at her empty plate and cup with a smirk. “Yeah, I can do that. Where and when can you meet me?”
“Give me an hour, please,” Alexa said. She then gave Mackenzie a meeting place and the women ended the call.
When Mackenzie headed out for her car, less than ten minutes had passed since Ellington had left. She thought about calling him to let him know where she was headed. But if he was anything like her, he’d probably need some time to cool down.
If anything comes out of this meeting with Alexa, I’ll call him right away.
She started the car and pulled out into morning traffic. She was tired, she was at a loss in terms of the case, and if she had any more coffee, she was going to get the jitters. If she didn’t find some huge revelation between now and the early afternoon, she was going to have to get some rest—more than just a handful of hours this time.
As she drove onward, a beautiful Miami morning unspooled before her. She barely noticed it, though. Her mind was wrapped around this case so tightly now that even the recent news about her father’s case was momentarily dwarfed. She headed for her meeting with Alexa, feeling the gorgeous seaside sun through the windshield but barely registering it at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
She found herself in yet another greasy-spoon diner forty minutes later. She opted for water rather than coffee and, surprised to find that she was still a bit hungry, ordered a fruit and yogurt parfait, hoping the natural sugars of the fruit would give her a bit of an energy boost.
Alexa had not really done much preparation to herself before coming out. She wore a pair of clingy jogging pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and she wore no makeup. She was still very pretty and Mackenzie found it odd that a woman of her appearance would be involved in something like an underground swinger and sex club.
“I know what you think of me,” Alexa said, as if reading Mackenzie’s mind.
“What do you mean?”
“I get it all the time,” Alexa said. “Especially from
some of my closer friends that know what I do. I’m thirty-four and have a body a twenty-one-year-old would kill for. I don’t say that to be conceited—I’ve worked my ass off for this body. But the general consensus is that because I’m a woman approaching forty, I should be thinking about getting a husband and popping out a kid.”
It wasn’t quite what Mackenzie had thought, but it was close. She only nodded in response.
Alexa shrugged. “I don’t have any reasons for it. Honestly, I’m not even one of those women that has to have sex. I’ve seen those women before and I know some of them are messed up. Some feel like they need it because of abuse from their past—they think it’s all they are good for. I’ve also seen women come along to these clubs because they so badly want to please their husbands. But me…I don’t know. I like the energy. And sure…when I am in the mood for it, it’s nice. It makes you feel wanted…desired.”
“With all due respect,” Mackenzie said, “I did not call you to ask you to justify your need for being in a club like this.”
“Oh, I know. It’s just that after last night, I think I understand the stigma about these types of things a bit better. Unless you really know the people you’re getting involved with, these things can be very dangerous. There’s a level of trust there, and I think it’s missing from these events most of the time.”
“Speaking of that level of trust,” she said, “I’d like to know more about the Springses. Was this the first time you’d seen them?”
“No. There are a few regulars that pop up at most of these events, and they were one of them.”
“How about the Kurtzes, Carlsons, and Sterlings? Do those last names ring any bells?”
Slowly, almost as if operated by a rusted spring, Alexa nodded. Realization dawned in her eyes as she started to understand what this could mean.
“How did you know them?” Mackenzie asked, sensing that a huge connection might be within her grasp.
“The Sterlings came to two of the events I put on,” she said. “The Kurtzes came to one. As for the Carlsons, I believe they signed up for one but never showed up. But if they signed up for one of my events, I can pretty much guarantee you that they were involved in other swinging events or sex clubs.”
More than you know, Mackenzie thought.
Apparently, she was too tired to maintain much of a poker face. Alexa’s face went slightly pale and her eyes narrowed in concern. “Are they…have they all been killed?”
“They have,” Mackenzie said. “And up until now, you are the only resource I have that can connect every single one of the victims. So please…think very hard about this. Can you think of any couple that was involved in any capacity with all four of these couples?”
Alexa stared at her breakfast, only partially eaten. The shock and surprise was still on her face, but she nodded. “I can think of two right away. But one of them moved away about seven or eight months ago. Atlanta, I think. But the other one…yeah, I know them pretty well. They divorced not too long ago.”
Swinging apparently doesn’t work as well as some seem to think, Mackenzie thought. Seems to be a lot of divorce…
“I need a name,” Mackenzie said.
“The Fallens,” she said. “Mark and Ellie. I don’t know if they were involved with all four of the couples, but I know for sure they can be connected to the Springses and the Carlsons.”
“Do you have any idea why the Fallens divorced?” Mackenzie asked.
“Not for sure, no. Word on the street is that Ellie met some other guy and preferred him over her husband.”
“Do you know if this other guy she met was part of any clubs?”
“No idea. But if I recall, the Fallens were good friends with the Springses. I’m pretty sure they did some other events and clubs together. They were sort of…well, they were sort of an item for a while. All four of them.”
“Mark and Ellie Fallen,” Mackenzie said, committing it to memory.
“Yes.”
“And what can you tell me about Tanya Rose? If she used to run this little club, do you think she’d know more than you about some of the members?”
“I don’t know,” Alexa said. “Probably not. At the risk of sounding dramatic, she was sort of a bitch. I doubt she even remembers the names of any of the members. After she and her husband divorced, she moved to California or something with the guy she was sleeping with.”
“What about the husband? Did you know him?”
“Not well. I met him a few times. Seemed like an okay guy. Just always in her shadow.”
“I don’t suppose you have their contact information, do you?”
“I have an email for Tanya, but the last thing I sent to it came back to me as undelivered. I guess she killed the account. She really wanted to distance herself from the swinging stuff, you know?”
Mackenzie slid out of the booth seat and got to her feet. “I hate to leave you alone to finish up your breakfast,” Mackenzie said, “but I need to get going.”
“Sure. And best of luck. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“I may just have to do that. Thanks again.”
Mackenzie paid for her minuscule meal and then walked quickly out of the diner. Before she made it to her car, she pulled out her cell phone again. This time, she dialed up Gloria with DCM.
“Hello?” Gloria said. She sounded on edge, as if she had been expecting just about any call coming in ever since Mackenzie and Harrison had spoken with her to present bad news.
“Gloria, it’s Mackenzie White. Listen…I got another name of a couple that’s involved in swinging. I know you vehemently didn’t want to hand out a list of every single member, but I need to see if this name is on your member list. And at the risk of sounding like I’m threatening you, I’m going to need you to comply. If you don’t, I can make things very difficult for you. I hate to play that card, but that’s where we’re at right now.”
Gloria didn’t even hesitate, though she did sound irritated when she responded. “What’s the name?”
“Mark and Ellie Fallen.”
“Yeah, I know that name. I don’t think they’ve been active in a while, though. I can check my records to confirm that.”
“No need,” Mackenzie said, assuming Gloria didn’t know that the Fallens had divorced. “Do you know right offhand any couples that the Fallens might have been involved with?”
“Well, they were very tight with the Springses,” Gloria said. “And I think they at least spoke with the Kurtzes, though I don’t ever recall them hooking up. If they did, it was on their own time.”
“Thanks,” Mackenzie said.
She heard Gloria start to say something else, but Mackenzie killed the call. She got into her car and pulled up yet another number. She nearly pushed Ellington’s name but wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Besides, she didn’t want to use him as an errand boy. Instead, she called up Officer Dagney.
Dagney answered on the second ring. She sounded far too bright and cheerful for Mackenzie’s taste. “Agent White,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“I need an address and contact information for Mark and Ellie Fallen. The sooner the better.”
“I’ll have it texted to you within five minutes.”
Once again, Mackenzie got back out on the road. Not having Ellington in the passenger seat was refreshing for a moment. It allowed her to not have to pretend to be vigorously energized. She was tired as hell and without anyone riding passenger, she could show it.
Her cell phone dinged two minutes later as a text came in. It was Dagney, working quickly as usual. Mackenzie inserted the Fallens’ address into her GPS and then called the number for Mark Fallen.
It was nearing ten o’clock in the morning and the day already felt excruciatingly long. But with a solid lead that connected each of the murdered couples, Mackenzie started to feel the itch of progress as her body fought off her sluggishness and found its second wind.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Over the next couple of minutes, Mackenzie spoke to both Mark and Ellie Fallen while traveling to the address Dagney had sent her. While neither of them had seemed overly anxious to speak with her, Mackenzie was able to piece together bits and pieces of the last few months of the Fallens’ lives.
She spoke to Ellie first. She had been at work and, as a result, had seemed rushed. Even after Mackenzie had identified herself as working for the FBI, Ellie Fallen (still having not gone through the paperwork of changing her last name) was resistant.
“I’m at work and really don’t have time for this,” she spat.
“I understand that,” Mackenzie said. “But what’s going to be easier? Answering a few questions over the phone or having me come to your work and hassle you there?”
“That would be rude and impossible,” Ellie said. “I moved to Jacksonville after the divorce,” she said. “You say you’re on assignment in Miami…and that’s one hell of a drive.”
“Ms. Fallen, in the time you’ve spent pissing and moaning with me, you could have already answered my questions.”
“Jesus. Fine. What do you want?”
“I want to know about your relationship with Jack and Vanessa Springs. I’d also like to know about your history with any events you and your former husband attended that were organized by a woman named Alexa.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ellie said.
“No, I’m not. I fear someone you and your former husband might have been involved with has been killing couples involved in the swinging community.”
“Well, you’ll have to talk to Mark about that,” Ellie said. “That’s not a part of my life anymore.”
“Yes, but—”
With that, Ellie Fallen hung up. Now halfway to the Fallen residence, Mackenzie dialed up Mark Fallen. He answered pretty much right away and sounded rather chipper. In the background, Mackenzie could hear faint music.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Fallen? This is Mackenzie White, an agent with the FBI.”
“FBI?”
“That’s correct.”