by Blake Pierce
“Right here,” Mackenzie said, raising her hand.
Eric Connor looked her way. So did Dumfries and the security guard. She gauged Dumfries’s reaction and…it didn’t make sense. He seemed to not care at all. But Eric Connor looked alarmed for a moment. For a split second, there had been recognition on his face…as if he knew her.
She stepped up to the front of the crowd, making sure everyone standing there in attendance could see her. “I was wondering what you might know about the three young ladies from Queen Nash University that were recently murdered.”
The scene went absolutely quiet. Dumfries was looking at her now, but he was confused. Connor, on the other hand, went pale and his posture changed right away. It looked as if an electric current had passed through his body. Still, he was quick to answer.
“I know very little about it,” he said. “Just what I have read in the papers. And I believe there was a great deal of interest in my former colleague, Daniel Humphrey. Very unfortunate.”
Mackenzie felt herself losing her moment. She was taken aback by the sudden development that had played out in front of her. Dumfries had shown no reaction when he saw her, but Connor had. Dumfries had showed only stark confusion when she had mentioned the murders, but Connor had looked mortified for a single moment.
But then she once again thought of Earl Jackson. Something about the journalist that had caught on to Dumfries.
That journalist thought the trouble was coming from Connor at first. Whatever clues and leads the journalist had originally led him to Connor…
“Each one of them had VIP pins from last fall’s campaign,” Mackenzie added. She then pulled the pin she had gotten from Christine Lynch’s apartment out of her pocket and held it up. “Just like this one…taken from the apartment of the second victim.”
Cameras flashed and people started to murmur. Meanwhile, Eric Connor looked enraged. In a moment of absolute unawareness, he looked over to Dumfries. Dumfries only shrugged, the color also going out of his face.
Mackenzie stepped forward, now less than a foot away from Connor. The security member beside him stepped forward to cut her off but Mackenzie continued to talk.
“You met them all at a gala event, didn’t you?”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Connor said. But his voice was shaken and he was clearly rocked. He looked like he might get sick.
It was Connor that Earl Jackson and his bodyguard partner were cleaning up after, Mackenzie realized. The journalist was right from the start. It was Connor…and Dumfries was just the scapegoat. And he did it, in exchange for some extra power. In exchange for essentially being untouchable.
“You like hurting women, right?” she asked.
Some people in the crowd started to grumble. The security guard stepped forward, blocking her view of Connor.
“You strangled them, right? Jo Haley, Christine Lynch…”
“That’s enough,” the security guard said.
“You dumped Marie Totino in the river! What was wrong? Couldn’t control her? Couldn’t make her—”
Suddenly, Eric Connor sprang forward. In doing so, he knocked the security guard to the side. Mackenzie was so distracted by that, she didn’t see the blow coming. Eric Connor threw a lazy punch that connected but hardly hurt. Apparently, his vicious streak stopped at strangling helpless women who were enamored with his level of power.
Mackenzie reeled her arm back, fully prepared to exchange blows with him, but the crowd erupted around her. In the frenzy, she saw a lunging shape come in from the right and recognized the face. It was Ellington—and he was tackling Connor to the ground.
Security came charging for Ellington, but he managed to get his badge and ID out before they could attack. Cameras flashed like lightning and every camera in the place—Mackenzie saw four of them now—was on the sight of Senator Eric Connor being arrested.
“What the hell is this all about?”
The question was loud, raised above the din of the hundred or so people who were now watching as Ellington slapped a pair of handcuffs on Eric Connor. It came from Bruce Dumfries, who looked both scared and somehow relieved all at once.
Mackenzie showed her ID as she turned to him. As calmly as she could, she said, “If you can answer a few questions for us, you’ll make that question a lot easier to answer.”
And then, as if she needed any further evidence that Connor was guilty, he started to scream and thrash in a rage beneath Ellington. But within seconds, those screams morphed into laughter and it was easily one of the most terrible things Mackenzie had ever heard.
Still, through the laughter, the anger remained. She saw it shining in his eyes as he looked toward the cameras. And there, in front of the cameras and those in attendance, Eric Connor dropped his guard for perhaps the first time in his career, and let his madness show.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
As she had expected, McGrath was furious. When they arrived at FBI headquarters with Connor in tow half an hour later, McGrath was waiting outside. When Mackenzie opened the car door, he was right there, in her face.
“I’m doing my best to remain as professional as possible and trying to understand that it’s not polite to be cruel to a pregnant woman, but I might just have you fired for this.” He then looked over the hood of the car at Ellington and said: “And you…you were tagging right along with her. Do you not give a shit about your career?”
“I do, sir. But with all due respect, we’re bringing a killer of three women directly to the door of the bureau. I understand your anger, but let’s focus on the results first.”
Mackenzie had to bite back a grin. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Ellington stand up to McGrath like this.
McGrath nodded, his hands on his hips. He peered into the back of the car where Eric Connor appeared surprisingly calm, looking out at the confrontation.
“I hope to God you’re right,” McGrath said. “Because if you’re wrong, you’ve screwed us all.” He leveled a finger at Mackenzie, like a teacher calling out an inept student. “I want you in my office as soon as this shit show is over. Am I understood?”
Mackenzie only nodded. McGrath wheeled around and stalked back toward the building, as if he was afraid to be there when they took Connor out of the car. Mackenzie looked back to Connor and saw that he was smiling at what he had just heard. He was gloating, letting them know that he was fully aware how much trouble they could potentially be in. He was no longer making any attempt to seem to be the prestigious and well-respected senator the world had known him as an hour ago.
“Let’s get him inside,” Ellington said. “Might as well jump out of the frying pan and into the fire while we’ve still got the nerves.”
And the jobs, Mackenzie thought with a hint of worry.
***
Connor was processed and carried back to an interrogation room, where he sat in solitude for almost half an hour before anyone spoke to him. The first words he spoke were to request a call to his lawyers. Meanwhile, outside of headquarters, the street had been cordoned off by the police due to the massive media presence. Reporters, cameramen, and journalists were jockeying for the best position, questioning anyone that came out of the doors for a tidbit on the quickly developing Eric Connor story.
McGrath was the first man in the interrogation room, trying to get a word out of Connor. But Mackenzie watched through the video feed and saw that Connor had no interest in talking. After McGrath had given it a go for nearly fifteen minutes, Connor finally said something. And it was clear by the expression on McGrath’s face that it was not what he had wanted to hear.
“I want to talk to Agent White,” he said. He then pointed to the camera mounted in the corner and added: “And I want that off. And not a word until my lawyers get here.”
“You’re not in any condition to be giving demands,” McGrath said.
“I was tackled and accused of three murders on live television. And so far, you have presented me with no proof of these cri
mes. So I actually think I’m in a very good position.”
The smug smile on Connor’s face made it quite clear that he knew how the system worked. He knew that if he was indeed the primary suspect, they’d basically give him whatever he wanted if it meant he’d talk. McGrath stood his ground for another thirty seconds or so before storming out of the room.
He came into the small viewing room where Mackenzie and Ellington had been watching. He looked pissed off but there was also a small inkling of relief on his face. It was an odd combination, but Mackenzie knew it for what it was. He was angry that Connor was being so defiant, but he also knew that he had their man. And there was something about this demeanor—something that had shifted in the man’s posture and expression between the time they took him down at the conference and the moment they had taken him out of the car and into FBI headquarters.
“You heard him,” McGrath said, sitting down next to her. “He wants you. Probably some bullshit thing about respecting you because you figured him out. And he wants the camera off.”
“How much longer before his lawyers get here?”
“Who knows? Soon, I’d think. A story like this one, with all that media out there…that’s a lawyer’s wet dream.”
Sure enough, not one but two lawyers arrived six minutes later while Mackenzie was standing outside of the interrogation room. One of them went directly into the room, escorted by another agent. The other stayed outside and did his best to speak with Mackenzie.
“Our client is being accused of murder, is that correct?”
“Three of them.”
The lawyer frowned and looked to his feet for a moment. “Has he spoken with you yet?”
“No. I’m about to go in now that you’re here.”
“Understood. Give us five minutes with him, would you?”
“No. I’ve waited long enough.”
With that, Mackenzie shouldered past the lawyer. The expression on his face made it clear that he was not used to being treated in such a way.
“Agent White, I advise you—” the lawyer started.
But she ignored him for the time being. She walked directly through the doorway and into the room where Connor sat calmly at a small table while the other lawyer and the agent escort stood to either side. The other agent nodded to Mackenzie and left the room fairly quickly.
The second lawyer entered behind Mackenzie and basically sprinted to the other side of the table so he could whisper something into Connor’s ear. Whatever he said made Connor smile, though he never took his eyes off of Mackenzie the entire time. His head was cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed. It seemed like he was trying to figure her out—trying to understand how someone who looked so small and insignificant could have figured him out.
Or he was just trying to intimidate her.
“I hear you wanted to speak with me,” Mackenzie said.
He remained quiet for a moment, still looking at her. Mackenzie tried to determine how she needed to respond to this. Should she remain standing and really grill him, or would he respond better to a seated woman that seemed to really not be all that affected by him? Deciding that there were pros and cons of equal measure to both approaches, Mackenzie did what she felt might get a rise out of him—but would also put the lawyers at ease. She sat down directly across from Connor with a slight slouch to her posture. She wanted him to think that she wasn’t intimidated by him at all.
“Proud of yourself?” Connor asked.
“Proud?”
“That you figured me out. Not only that, but that you weren’t afraid to come after me.”
Both lawyers looked as if a bomb had exploded in the room. One of them literally stepped backward, as if unsure how to handle Connor’s remark.
“Senator, you need to watch what you say,” he said. “This is—”
“This is truth,” Connor said, still staring Mackenzie down. “This is life, this is real. I had a very good run.” He chuckled at this and when he did, Mackenzie thought she could see something in his eyes, some faraway darkness she had seen in the eyes of other killers.
“So you killed these three women?” Mackenzie asked.
“I said no such thing.”
“Did you plan on having Dumfries play the role of scapegoat again?” she asked. “The way he did with the prostitutes?”
“Ah, you must think you’re brilliant. Yes…Dumfries has earned every cent I’ve paid him.”
In the back of her head, one red flag started to wave. If Connor was indeed the killer, why were Earl Jackson and his partner called to the Dumfries residence to tend to Dumfries’s wife after he had beaten her so badly?
She shrugged and said, “No, not brilliant. If I were brilliant, I would have started looking at you the moment I knew there was someone linked to Humphrey.”
“Yes…Humphrey. What a joke. Of course…one of the things you quickly learn in politics is that if you surround yourself with enough shit, you can often come out smelling like a rose.”
“Did you murder those women?”
He was quiet, smirking at her.
“Did Dumfries work with you on it?” she asked. “Was he the killer or at least an accomplice of some kind?”
Still, nothing. It was the first lawyer who finally responded. “You can’t egregiously make such claims about our client, Agent White. Not without proof.”
“A man of your stature,” Mackenzie said, looking him dead in the eye. “I figured you’d want to talk my ear off to make sure you walk out of here.”
“Oh, Agent White…this is not the first time I’ve felt the FBI breathing down my neck. But money is a very powerful tool. Almost as powerful as influence.”
“And that’s what it was about for you, right? Power?”
He smiled and looked over his right shoulder. “You’re forgetting one of my stipulations for talking, Agent White.”
She followed his gaze and saw the camera in the corner. She got up right away and walked over to it. She unscrewed the cable that fed into the main feed that was showing the footage in the interrogation room.
“There you go,” she said. “Now, why don’t we get the suits out of here, too? I scratched your back…”
Connor considered this for a moment. That evil smile was still on his face as he nodded and waved the lawyers away.
“Senator, I strongly advise—”
“Piss off,” Connor said. “Both of you. Go home. You’re not needed here.”
Mackenzie did her best not to show her hand. But the fact that Connor had essentially stalled in waiting for the lawyers to get here and was now dismissing them to engage in a more honest conversation about the murders…it did not paint a promising outcome for him. It also indicated that there might be some sort of power trip being played out even in this—in not needing someone to represent him as he considered spilling all of his darker deeds.
The lawyers looked at one another, clearly disgusted with the situation. As they made their exit, one of them looked at Connor with absolute befuddlement on his face.
Once the door was closed behind the second lawyer and it was just Mackenzie and Connor, the senator leaned forward and sighed deeply.
“You mentioned power, and you were right,” he said. He spoke as if speaking to a very dumb child, having to explain everything, to spell everything out. “It is about power. But I don’t think I understood that until very recently. I thought control and power were more or less the same thing. Most stuffy assholes in Washington think that way. But I was wrong.”
“Took you three deceased women to figure that out?” Mackenzie asked. “Sounds like you’re a slow learner.”
“Are you trying to make fun of me, Agent White?”
“Not at all. You’ve killed three women. Killed them after doing God knows what to them just to feel like a big strong man. I find nothing about that funny. I find it pathetic and sad.”
“I’m sure you do. But I know a thing or two about creating profiles on people as well. And I know y
ou, Agent White. You stopped at nothing to get to me. You knew it could mean your career, and you came after me. It shows perseverance. It shows a bit of recklessness. And I know those traits lead to one other damning quality…the need to know why.”
The smile she flashed him was both a little evil and genuine. “Six months ago, you’d be right. But now, I have new things to worry about. I have a new perspective. And while figuring out your need and hunger for power and control did help me narrow the suspects down to you, I honestly don’t give a shit why you did it.”
“Of course you do,” Connor argued. “Would you rather hear about my obsession and borderline addiction with sex from an early age? Or the night I listened from my bedroom while my uncle raped my mother and nearly beat her to death? And how I was sort of glad he’d done it?”
“You can save that for your shrink,” she said. “Because if you’re looking for sympathy from me, you’re wasting your time.”
“I don’t want your sympathy. I want someone to share this secret with.”
“What secret?”
He smiled wider now and looked as if he were slipping into some sort of ecstasy. “The things I just told you were true…about my uncle, my mother, and the neighbor. And those things, they are quite clear in my head and I go back to them from time to time. But these things I have done…for more than fifteen years now…I don’t do them because I was warped by those moments. I do these things because I like to do it. Not the reason a shrink would want to hear—or even you, I suppose—but it’s the truth. I love to do it. I love to see the look in their eyes when they realize that the little trysts and quickies in the afternoons have become something more dangerous…that I was setting them up from the start.”
“I call bullshit,” Mackenzie said. “You got cautious there at the end. Trying to dispose of Marie Totino. Not having sex with Christine Lynch before you killed her.”
He cocked his head again, as if studying an insect. She could see that darkness looming in his eyes again. It was like watching someone slowly fall asleep as it sparkled in his eyes.