LITMIR.BIZ

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at the nature of the question.

      “By any chance, did you ever see Kenny Skinner or Malory Thomas as clients?”

      “No. And none of the other victims from as far back as 1996.”

      “So you have met with at least one of the suicides from the bridge?”

      “Yes, on one occasion. And with that one, I saw it coming. I did everything I could to convince the family that she needed help. But by the time I could even manage to get them to consider it, she jumped right off that bridge. You see…in this town, the Miller Moon Bridge is synonymous with suicide. And that’s why I’d really like for the county to tear it down.”

      “Because you feel that it basically calls to anyone with suicidal thoughts?”

      “Exactly.”

      Mackenzie sensed that the conversation was basically over. And that was fine with her. She could tell straightaway that Dr. Haggerty was not the type to exaggerate something just to make sure her voice was heard. Although she had tried to downplay it out of a fear of being wrong, Mackenzie was pretty sure Haggerty strongly believed that at least a few of the cases weren’t suicides.

      And that little bit of skepticism was all Mackenzie needed. If there was even the slightest chance that either of these last two bodies were murders and not suicides, she wanted to know for certain before heading back to DC.

      She finished off her coffee, thanked Dr. Haggerty for her time, and then headed back outside. On the way to her car, she looked out to the forest that bordered most of Kingsville. She looked to the west, where the Miller Moon Bridge sat tucked away down a series of back roads and one gravel road that seemed to indicate all travelers were coming to the end of something.

      As she thought about those bloodstained rocks at the bottom of the bridge, the comparison sent a small shiver through Mackenzie’s heart.

      She pushed it away, starting the engine and pulling out her cell phone. If she was going to get a definitive answer on any of this, she needed to treat it as if it was murder case. And with that mindset, she supposed she needed to start speaking to the family members of the recently deceased.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      Before visiting the family of Kenny Skinner, Mackenzie called to get explicit permission from McGrath. His response had been short, clear, and to the point: I don’t care if you have to talk to someone on the fucking Little League baseball team, just get it figured out.

      That confirmation pushed her toward the residence of Pam and Vincent Skinner. The way McGrath explained it, Pam Skinner was formerly Pam Wilmoth. An older sister to Deputy Director Wilmoth, she worked from home as a proposal specialist for an environmental agency. As for Vincent Skinner, he just happened to be the owner of Kingsville Tire and Tractor Supply, having provided a job for his son since Kenny was fifteen.

      When Mackenzie knocked on the door, neither of the Skinners greeted her. Instead, it was the pastor of Kingsville Presbyterian Church. When Mackenzie showed him her ID and told him why she was there, he let her in and asked her to wait in the foyer. The Skinner family lived in a nice house on a corner lot in what she assumed would be considered Kingsville’s downtown area. She smelled something cooking, wafting down from a long hallway. Elsewhere in the house, she could hear the ringing of a cell phone. She also heard the muffled voice of the pastor, letting Pam and Vincent Skinner know that there was a lady from the FBI there to ask a few questions about Kenny.

      It took a few minutes but Pam Skinner eventually came to meet her. The woman was red-faced from crying and looked as if she had not slept a wink the night before. “Are you Agent White?” she asked.

      “I am.”

      “Thanks for coming,” Pam said. “My brother told me you’d be coming by at some point.”

      “If it’s too soon, I can – ”

      “No, no, I want to get it out now,” she said.

      “Is your husband at home?”

      “He’s elected to stay in the living room with our pastor. Vincent took this incredibly hard. He fainted twice last night and goes through these little moments where he just refuses to believe it’s happened and – ”

      As if out of nowhere, a huge sob escaped Pam’s throat and she leaned against the wall. She hitched her breath and swallowed down what Mackenzie was sure was grief that needed to come out.

      “Mrs. Skinner…I can come back later.”

      “No. Now, please. I’ve had to stay strong all night for Vincent. I can manage a few more minutes for you. Just…come on to the kitchen.”

      Mackenzie followed Pam Skinner down the hallway and toward the kitchen, where Mackenzie started to recognize the smell she’d noticed earlier. Apparently, Pam had put some cinnamon rolls in the oven, perhaps in an effort to continue putting off her sorrow for her husband. Pam checked on them half-heartedly as Mackenzie settled down at a stool by the kitchen bar.

      “I spoke with Dr. Haggerty this morning,” Mackenzie said. “She’s been lobbying to have the Miller Moon Bridge torn down. Your son’s name came up. She said she finds it very hard to believe that Kenny would have taken his own life.”

      Pan nodded emphatically. “She’s absolutely right. Kenny would have never killed himself. The idea is absolutely ridiculous.”

      “Do you have any strong and valid reasons to suspect that someone would want to harm your son?”

      Pam shook her head, just as furiously as she had nodded it moments before. “I thought about that all night. And it brought up some harsh truths about Kenny, sure. He had some guys that might not have cared too much for him because Kenny tended to steal women away from their boyfriends. But it never came to anything serious.”

      “And in the past few weeks, you hadn’t heard Kenny say anything or act in a certain way that might indicate that he was having thoughts about hurting himself?”

      “No. Nothing of the sort. Even when Kenny was in a bad mood, he managed to light up a room. He rarely even got angry about anything. He wasn’t a perfect child but by God, I don’t believe there was a single ounce of anger or hatred in him. I just find it absolutely beyond comprehension that he would have killed himself.”

      Another sob escaped her throat between the words killed and himself.

      “Do you know if he had any sort of ties to that bridge?” Mackenzie asked.

      “No more than the other teens and young adults in town. I’m sure he likely did some drinking or some flirting down there, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

      Mackenzie could sense the dam about to break within Pam Skinner. Another minute or two and she was going to snap.

      “One more question, and please know that I have to ask it. But how certain are you that you knew your son well? Do you think there might have been some second life secrets he was keeping from you and your husband?”

      She thought for a moment as tears trailed down her eyes. Slowly, she said, “I suppose anything is possible. But if Kenny was hiding some sort of second life from us, he was doing it with the skill of a spy. And while he was a great kid, he was not very committed to things. For him to have to hide something like that…”

      “I follow you,” Mackenzie said. “I’m going to leave you to deal with this now. But please, if you think of anything else in the coming days, call me right away.”

      With that, Mackenzie got to her feet and placed her business card on the countertop. “I’m so very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Skinner.”

      Mackenzie left quickly but not in a rude way. She could feel the weight of the family’s loss until she was back outside, the door closed behind her. And even then, on the way to her car, she could hear the sounds of Pam Skinner finally letting out her grief. It was beyond haunting and it broke Mackenzie’s heart a little bit.

      Even when she was out of the driveway, the noise of Pam Skinner’s crying swept through her head like a fall breeze

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