Before He Needs

“In the same areas as the Kurtzes and Sterlings?”

“That’s where it gets promising,” Dagney said. “One of the instances that involved sexual assault happened in the same group of townhouses the Kurtzes lived in.”

“Do we have an address for the guy?”

“Yeah. He works at an auto garage. A small one. And we’ve got confirmation that he’s there right now. Name of Mike Nell.”

“Send me the address and I’ll go have a talk with him. And any word on the financial records Harrison requested?” Mackenzie asked.

“Not yet. We’ve got some guys working on it, though. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Mackenzie killed the call and did her best to give Harrison his moment of grief. He was no longer weeping, but was clearly having to make an effort to keep it together.

“Thanks,” Harrison said, wiping a stray tear away from his face.

“For what?” Mackenzie asked.

He shrugged. “Calling McGrath and the airport. Sorry this is such a pain in the midst of the case.”

“It’s not,” she said. “Harrison, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

After that, the car fell into silence and whether she liked it or not, Mackenzie’s mind slipped back into work mode. There was a killer somewhere out there, apparently with some odd vengeance to enact upon happy couples. And he might be awaiting her this very second.

Mackenzie could barely wait to meet him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dropping Harrison off at the motel was bittersweet. She wished she could do more for him or, at the very least, offer some more comforting words. In the end, though, she only gave him a half-hearted wave as he went into his room to pack his things and call a cab to take him to the airport.

Once his door had closed behind him, Mackenzie pasted the address Dagney had sent her into her GPS. Lipton Auto Garage was exactly seventeen minutes from the motel, a distance she started to cover right away.

Being alone in the car felt strange but she again distracted herself with the Miami scenery. It was different from any other beach-oriented city she had ever been in. Where smaller towns situated by the beach seemed a little sandy and almost faded, everything in Miami seemed to shine and sparkle despite the nearby sand and salt spray from the ocean. Here and there she would see a building that seemed out of place, neglected and forlorn – a reminder that everything had its blemishes.

She arrived at the garage sooner than she expected, having been distracted by taking in the sights of the city. She parked in a lot that was overcrowded with broken down cars and trucks that were obviously being pillaged for spare parts. It looked like the sort of operation that was forever in a state of almost going bankrupt.

Before walking into the place, she did a quick once-over of the place. There was a run-down front office that was currently unattended. The attached garage held three bays, only one of which contained a car; it was up on risers but did not look to be having any work done on it. In the garage, one man was rummaging through a shelf-shaped toolbox. Another was in the very back of the garage, standing on a small ladder and rifling through a series of old cardboard boxes.

Mackenzie walked over to the man closest to her, the one looking through the toolbox. He looked to be nearing forty, with long greasy hair that hung down to his shoulders. The stubble on his face was not quite a beard. When he looked up at her as she approached, he smiled brightly.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said with a bit of a Southern accent. “What can I help you with today?”

Mackenzie flashed her badge. “You can stop calling me darling first of all. Then you can tell me if you happen to be Mike Nell.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said. He was staring at her ID with something like fear. He then looked back at her face, as if trying to decide if he was part of some prank.

“Mr. Nell, I’d like for you to – ”

He wheeled around quickly and shoved her. Hard. She stumbled backward and her feet struck a tire that was lying on the ground. As she lost her footing and went falling to her backside, she caught a glimpse of Nell running away. He was leaving the garage, running and looking over his shoulder.

That escalated quickly, she thought. He’d sure as hell guilty of something.

Her instincts wanted to go for her gun. But that would cause a scene. So she got up and gave chase. Yet, as she pushed herself up, her hand fell on something else that had been left on the floor. It was a lug wrench – possibly the one that had taken off the tire she had fallen over.

She picked it up and quickly got to her feet. She dashed to the front of the garage and saw Nell at the sidewalk, about to cross the street. Mackenzie quickly looked both ways, saw that there were no cars within a few feet, and drew her arm back.

She launched the lug wrench through the air with as much force as she could. It sailed over the fifteen feet or so that separated her and Nell, striking him squarely in the back. He let out a yelp of surprise and pain before staggering forward and falling to his knees, nearly face planting on the side of the street.

She ran after him, driving a knee into his back before he could even think about trying to get back to his feet.

She pinned his arms behind him and pushed down. He tried squirming but then realized that trying to get away only caused more pain as his shoulders were stretched back. With a quickness that she had been practicing for months now, she pulled the set of handcuffs from her belt and slapped them around Nell’s wrist.

“That was stupid,” Mackenzie said. “I only wanted to ask some questions…and you gave me the answer I was looking for.”

Nell said nothing but he did finally accept that he could not get away from her. As cars passed by, the other man from the garage came rushing over.

“What the hell is this?” he asked.

“Mr. Nell just attacked an FBI agent,” Mackenzie said. “I’m afraid he won’t be able to finish out the day for you.”

***

Mackenzie observed Mike Nell from behind the double-mirror of the observation room. He looked aggravated and embarrassed – a scowl that had remained on his face ever since Mackenzie had hauled him to his feet, handcuffed in front of his employer. He chewed nervously at his lip, an indication that he was probably itching for a cigarette or a drink.

Mackenzie looked away from him to study the file in her hands. It told the brief but troubled story of Mike Nell, a teenage runaway at the age of sixteen, busted for petty theft and aggravated assault for the first time at eighteen. The last twelve years of his life painted the portrait of a troubled loser – assault, theft, breaking and entering, a few stints in prison.

Beside Mackenzie, Dagney and Chief Rodriguez looked out at Nell with something like contempt.

“I take it you’ve seen a lot of him in the past?” Mackenzie asked.

“We have,” Rodriguez said. “And somehow, the courts keep just slapping him on the wrist and that’s it. The longest sentence he served was the one he just got paroled from, and that was for a sentence of one year. If it turns out this jackass is responsible for these murders, the courts are going to be tucking their tail between their legs.”

Mackenzie handed the report to Dagney and stepped toward the door. “Well then, let’s see what he has to say,” she said.

She exited the room and stood in the hallway for a moment before heading in to interrogate Mike Nell. She took out her phone, looking to see if she had received a text from Harrison. She assumed he’d be at the airport by now, maybe having spoken to other family members to get a better idea of what was going on back home.. She genuinely felt sorry for him and even though she did not know him all that well, she wished there was something she could do for him.

Setting her emotions aside for the moment, she pocketed her phone and entered the interrogation room. Mike Nell looked up at her and didn’t bother hiding the look of contempt. But now there was something else, too. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was checking her out, his eyes lingering especially longer than necessary on her hips.

“See something you like, Mr. Nell?” she asked as she took a seat.

Clearly perplexed by the question, Nell chuckled nervously and said, “I guess.”

“I suppose you know that you’re in trouble for putting your hands on an FBI agent, even if it was just a push.”

“What about your little lug wrench stunt?” he asked.

“Would you have preferred my gun? A shot right through the calf or shoulder to slow you down?”

Nell had nothing to say to that.