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Bennett unfolded her arms, but her stiff posture radiated stress and strain. “We announced the identification of Tobi’s remains this morning.”
“But you didn’t connect Tobi’s murder to the rapes?” Macy asked.
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. If the perpetrator believes we haven’t linked the cases, he might show his hand,” Macy said.
“And if the killer is watching the press conference?” Bennett asked.
“I’m planning on it,” Macy said. “This guy is organized and careful. We’ll rattle his cage and make him realize he’s not invincible.” Macy drew a solid line under her last notation. “What can you tell me about Tobi Turner?”
Bennett reached for a thick folder and set it in front of Macy. “Tobi was seventeen at the time she vanished. She was an honor roll student, and she played the flute in the band. She attended all the football games, debating events, and dances.”
“The kid kept her nose clean,” Macy said. “But somewhere along the way, she trusted the wrong person.” Her own adoptive mother had infused her with a healthy dose of skepticism that had kept her safe and cynical while growing up.
“Sheriff Hank Greene did quite a bit of work himself on this case, and he worked closely with the state police and FBI,” Bennett said carefully. “This file is packed with witness statements, which is the bulk of the information this office had until now.”
“Tobi’s disappearance received a lot of attention,” Macy said. “Makes me think the killer realized he would be captured if he continued.”
“Or he simply hunted elsewhere,” Nevada said.
“People notice when a girl goes missing,” Bennett said. “I searched multiple databases yesterday, and there were no missing persons reports on girls fitting this criteria.”
Macy softened her tone, knowing she could sound harsh. “And you may be right, Deputy Bennett. He may have found a coping mechanism. Perhaps he never intended to kill Tobi, and it freaked him out.”
“Do you believe that?” Nevada asked.
“No,” Macy said.
“Announcing the linked rapes on the heels of our press release about the discovery of Tobi’s remains might set him off. The public won’t know the cases are linked, but he does. Are we kicking a hornet’s nest?” Bennett challenged.
“It’s an acceptable risk,” Macy said. “If you remain silent, then other women who have a story to tell might not ever come forward and possibly identify him.”
“Fifteen years might be enough time for a victim to feel safe enough to open up to the police,” Nevada said.
“Fifteen years is also a long time to keep a secret,” Bennett said.
“High time to talk about it, then,” Macy said.
“You make it sound easy.”
“It’s never going to be easy.”
“Would a press conference expedite this investigation?” Bennett asked.
“It could. Seeing and hearing a sheriff’s appeal for more information can make a powerful impression. However, it can trigger a flood of calls that lead nowhere,” Macy said.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks, right?” Bennett quipped in a tight voice.
“Set it up,” Macy said. “In the meantime, I want to talk to the rape victims and Tobi Turner’s father.”
“The first rape victim, Susan Oswald, is working today but agreed to speak to you later. The second will be coming by today to talk to you, Agent Crow,” Bennett said.
Macy glanced at her notes. “That would be Ellis Carter.”
Nevada’s jaw clenched and his lips compressed. “That’s correct.”
“Is there a problem with Ms. Carter I should be aware of?” Macy asked. “You stiffened when I mentioned her name.”
“She’s my first cousin,” Nevada said.
Sullivan knocked on the door and poked his head in the conference room. “Deputy, your son is on line one. He said he needs a permission slip signed, but your mother forgot.”
Tugging her ear, Bennett nodded. “I’ll get working on that press conference. Excuse me.”
As Macy watched Bennett leave, she was struck by the anxiety rippling through the deputy’s body. Her demeanor could be explained as a case of nerves. Many local officers mistrusted FBI until they proved their worth. But it was more than that with Bennett. Whatever was chewing on her ran deep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday, November 18, 2:30 p.m.
As Bennett’s determined footsteps drifted down the hallway, Macy felt Nevada’s scrutiny shift from the case to her. An insect under a microscope would have felt less noticed.
“You’ve shifted in your seat several times. Are you in pain?” he asked.
“The leg always aches. One of the many odd souvenirs I collected in Texas.”
“What other keepsakes did you bring back?” he asked.
“An identical twin sister.”
“Seems surreal to know there’s another you running around.”
Nevada’s description didn’t begin to encompass the insanity of her life. The only thing that really made sense these days was work. “Tell me about it.”
“How are you processing what you discovered in Texas?” he asked.
“You mean, how am I squaring with the fact that I’m half-monster?”
Nevada met her gaze head-on. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Bitterness saturated her tone. “Ramsey asked me the same question, but in a different way.”
“I know it has to be a lot to process.”
Pressure built in her chest as it always did when she discussed Texas. “I won’t lie. It’s hard to wrap my head around it at times.”
“Just for the record, the planet’s a better place for having you in it,” Nevada said.
That prompted a sour smile. “A girl made a terrible sacrifice so that I could exist. I owe her the scalps of as many of these bastards as I can collect.”
“Scalps won’t bring her back.”
“They’ll make me feel better.”
Nevada looked skeptical. “Will they?”
“I’ll let you know when I catch this one.” She resented the sadness tiptoeing around her words. She uncrossed her legs and rubbed her hand over her thigh. “Why are you in Deep Run? I’d have bet a few paychecks you’d never end up here.”
He shifted his weight slightly. “I like the slower pace.”
She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I know you. Communing with nature in solitude was never your thing. There’s more perking behind those steely eyes.”
He tapped a finger on the conference table. “What can I say? Living out of a suitcase got real old.”
She wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t press. They both were better off not knowing. “You said Ellis Carter is a cousin.”
“She’s my first cousin. Her mother and my mother were sisters. We grew up together. When I found out about the untested kits and launched my bid for sheriff, she confessed she was one of the victims.”
“You never knew?”
“She made Greene and her mother keep it a secret.”
That piece connected several portions of the puzzle. If anything, Nevada was loyal. “You must have been pissed.”
“An understatement. I visited with Sheriff Greene about the kits. He blamed it on a lack of budget. I offered to get federal funding, and he basically blew me off.”
“How high did your stack blow?” she asked.
“Through the roof. I left his office and went directly to the courthouse and filed my intention to run for office.”
Nevada had never been the kind of guy to walk away. “How’s Ms. Carter doing?”
“She’s doing well. She said counseling helped a lot, and she’s moved on with her life.”
“But she won’t really until this guy is caught.”
His hand closed slowly into a fist. “She thinks he called her about five years ago.”
She jotted a note on her legal pad. “What did he say?”
/> “He said, ‘I remember you.’”
“And she’s sure it’s him?”
“She’s not positive.”
Macy rubbed her hands together. “If he did call her, it tells me he feeds off fear.”
“I know.” Pain and anger vibrated around him.
“You want this as much as I do.”
He dropped his gaze for only a moment, telling her the on-point assessment struck a nerve. “Yes,” he said quietly.
Bennett appeared in the doorway. “Ellis Carter is here,” she said.
They both rose. Macy tugged the sleeves of her blazer down. Nevada shifted his stance and forced himself to relax his shoulders.
Macy’s work with human trafficking victims had driven home many lessons. The first was simple. Time didn’t heal all wounds. Counseling certainly helped glue the broken pieces back together, but mended cracks remained vulnerable forever.
However, Ellis Carter appeared to have no weaknesses. At thirty, she was slim and fit with dark hair as black as Nevada’s. She wore no makeup to accentuate her clear, tanned skin, but frankly she didn’t need it. She made faded jeans, a red pullover sweatshirt, and well-worn hiking boots look fashionable.
Ellis smiled at Nevada and hugged him. “Mike. How goes the renovation?”
