Before he Kills (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1) Read Free Page A

yet?”
    “What was the farmer’s reaction when he
found the body?”
    “Is this a case of sexual abuse?”
    “Is it wise for a woman to be assigned
to such a case?”
    That last one stung Mackenzie a bit.
Sure, she knew they were simply trying to land a response, hoping for a juicy
twenty-second spot for the afternoon newscast. It was only four o’clock; if
they acted quickly, they might have a nugget for the six o’clock news.
    As she made her way through the doors
and inside, that last question echoed like thunder in her head.
    Is it wise for a woman to be assigned to
such a case?
    She recalled how emotionlessly Nelson
had read off Hailey Lizbrook’s information.
    Of course it is, Mackenzie
thought. In fact, it’s crucial.
    Finally they entered the precinct and
the doors slammed behind them. Mackenzie breathed with relief to be in the
quiet.
    “Fucking leeches,” Porter said.
    He’d dropped the swagger from his step
now that he was no longer in front of the cameras. He walked slowly past the
receptionist’s desk and toward the hallway that led to the conference rooms and
offices that made up their precinct. He looked tired, ready to go home, ready
to be done with this case already.
    Mackenzie entered the conference room
first. There were several officers sitting at a large table, some in uniform
and some in their street clothes. Given their presence and the sudden
appearance of the news vans, Mackenzie guessed that the story had leaked in all
sorts of directions in the two and a half hours between leaving her office,
heading to the cornfield, and getting back. It was more than a random grisly
murder; now, it had become a spectacle.
    Mackenzie grabbed a cup of coffee and
took a seat at the table. Someone had already set folders around the table with
the little bit of information that had already been gathered about the case. As
she looked through it, more people started filing into the room. Porter
eventually entered, taking a seat at the opposite end.
    Mackenzie took a moment to check her
phone and found that she had eight missed calls, five voice messages, and a
dozen e-mails. It was a stark reminder that she’d already had a full caseload
before being sent out to the cornfield this morning. The sad irony was that
while her older peers spent a lot of time demeaning her and throwing subtle
insults her way, they also realized her talents. As a result, she kept one of
the larger caseloads on the force. To date, though, she had never fallen behind
and had a stellar rate of closed cases.
    She thought about answering some of the
e-mails while she waited, but Chief Nelson came in before she could get the
chance. He quickly closed the conference room door behind him.
    “I don’t know how the media found out
about this so quickly,” he growled, “but if I find out that someone in this
room is responsible, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
    The room fell quiet. A few officers and
related staff started to look nervously at the contents of the folders in front
of them. While Mackenzie didn’t care much for Nelson, there was no denying that
the man’s presence and voice commanded a room without much effort.
    “Here’s where we stand,” Nelson said.
“The victim is Hailey Lizbrook, a stripper from Omaha. Thirty-four years old,
two boys, ages nine and fifteen. From what we can gather, she was abducted
before clocking in for work, as her employer says she never showed up the night
before. Security footage from the Runway, her place of employment, shows
nothing. So we’re working on the assumption that she was taken somewhere
between her apartment and the Runway. That’s an area of seven and a half
miles—an area that we currently have a few bodies investigating with the Omaha
PD right now.”
    He then looked to Porter as if he were a
prized pupil and said:
    “Porter, why don’t you describe the
scene?”
    Of course he’d choose Porter.
    Porter stood up and looked around the
room as if to make sure everyone