LITMIR.BIZ

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the wide open spaces the state had to offer. Even though she was not one for sentiment, she could not ignore the draw to go back by her old station—the station where she started her career as a detective almost six years ago.

      After grabbing breakfast, she did just that. It was an hour and a half drive from her hotel in Lincoln. Her plane did not leave for DC for another seven hours, so she had plenty of time. She honestly didn’t even know why she was going. She had not cared much for her supervisor and, as ashamed as she was to admit it to herself, she could barely remember anyone she worked with. She did, of course, remember Officer Walter Porter. He had served as her partner for a small stretch of time and had been by her side during the Scarecrow Killer case—the case that had eventually attracted the attention of the FBI and their pursuit of her.

      All of the memories came trickling back as she parked her car across the street from the station. It looked so much smaller now, but in a way that made her proud to know it. More than nostalgia, it was a heartwarming familiarity.

      She crossed the street and stepped inside, unable to stop the smile from touching the corner of her lips. The small entryway led to a receptionist-type desk, which was paneled in with a sliding glass. Behind the woman sitting at the desk, a small bullpen of sorts was set up and looked exactly the same as it had when Mackenzie had last stepped foot in the building. She approached the glass, delighted to find a familiar face, albeit one she had not thought of in a very long time, sitting behind the glass.

      Nancy Yule looked as if she had not aged a bit. She still had the pictures of her kids perched at her desk, and the same little plaque by her phone, reciting a bit of scripture that Mackenzie could not remember.

      Nancy looked up and it took her a few seconds to realize who had just walked in the door. “Oh my God,” Nancy said, getting to her feet and rushing to the door on the far side of the paneled wall. The door came open and Nancy came rushing out, capturing Mackenzie in a hug.

      “Nancy, how are you?” Mackenzie said in the grip of the hug.

      “Same old, same old,” Nancy said. “How are you? You look fantastic!”

      “Thanks. I’m good. I just came out to visit my mother and thought I’d stop by to see my old haunts before I headed back home.”

      “Is home still in DC?”

      “It is.”

      “Still with the bureau?”

      “I am. Sort of living the dream, I don’t mind saying. Got married, had a child.”

      “I’m so happy for you,” Nancy said, and Mackenzie didn’t doubt she meant it. A little flicker of sadness came to her face, though, when she added: “Though, I’m not so sure your visit here is going to be prove very happy. Just about everything around here has changed.”

      “Like what?”

      “Well, Chief Nelson retired last year. Sergeant Berryhill stepped up and filled in his place. Do you remember him?”

      Mackenzie shook her head. “No, I can’t say that I do. Hey, would you happen to have an address or phone number for Walter Porter? I have a number for him but it hasn’t worked in quite some time.”

      “Oh, sweetie, I forgot you were his partner there for a while. I….well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Walter died about eight months ago. He had a pretty massive heart attack.”

      “Oh,” was all that Mackenzie could think to say. She also wondered if she was a terrible person for not being too terribly saddened by the news. Honestly, though, he seemed like nothing more than a passing acquaintance at best.

      “That’s terrible,” she said. She glanced back through the glass, into the bullpen and the hallways beyond where she had spent nearly five years of her life. This was the epicenter of where she had made her first arrest, solved her first case, pissed off her first male supervisor numerous times.

      They were all fond memories, but they felt like nothing more than faded photographs.

      “There might be a few officers out on patrol that you once worked with,” Nancy commented. “Sauer, Baker, Hudson…”

      “I don’t want to interrupt anyone’s day,” Mackenzie said. “I was really just taking a walk down memory lane and—”

      The buzzing of her cell phone from her pocket interrupted her. She grabbed for it instantly, assuming it would be Ellington with a story about something cute Kevin had done—or some medical issue. Their baby boy had been healthy for his entire three and a half months of life and they were just waiting for that first doctor’s visit.

      But the name she saw on her display was absolutely not one she had been expecting while on her little sabbatical out to Nebraska. The display read McGrath.

      “Excuse me, Nancy. I need to take this.”

      Nancy gave a little nod and stepped back through the doorway toward her desk as Mackenzie took the call.

      “This is Agent White.”

      “Based on how you’re answering the phone, can I assume you’re going to stay with us?” McGrath said. There was no humor in his voice. If anything, it almost sounded as if he were trying to convince her.

      “Sorry. Habit. I still don’t know yet.”

      “Well, maybe I can help. Listen…I respect what you’re going through and appreciate the honesty you showed in my office the other day. But I’m calling to ask you something of a favor. Not a favor, really, because it’s technically part of a job you still have. But I got a call about a case an hour or so ago. It’s in Wyoming, so it’s out your way. And since you just happen to be out there, I thought I’d give you first crack at it. Seems like an easy one. You may not have to do much more than show up, check out a crime scene, and question a few people.”

      “I thought you said you respected the conversation we had in your office.”

      “I do. Which is why I’m offering you the case first. You’re already out that way, it looks to be simple…and I figure it could be a good test to see if your heart is still in it. You’ve also recently worked another case that was sort of similar from the looks of it. If you say no, that’s perfectly fine. I can get someone out there as soon as tomorrow morning.”

      The feeling of her life coming full circle washed over her again. Here she was, standing in the station she had started out in as a hopeful officer with ambitions of being a detective—ambitions that she achieved in a very short time. And now here she was, speaking to a director with the FBI not even seven years later.

      She looked to the other side of the glass, to the desks and offices and hallways. It was easy to see that space and recall the sense of purpose she’d had back then. She still felt it, but it was quite different as a cop just starting out, a woman on a force that was primarily men, wanting to make a difference in the world.

      “How simple are we talking?” she asked.

      “There’s suspicions that someone is pushing people to their deaths off of popular climbing sites. The latest one was in Grand Teton National Park. So far, there are believed to be two victims.”

      “How do we know these aren’t just typical rock-climbing accidents?”

      “There’s evidence of violence before the falls.”

      Already, Mackenzie’s thoughts were sorting themselves out, trying to come up with answers even at this early stage. And because of that, she knew what her answer for McGrath would be. It had been nearly eight whole months since she had last done anything considered active in regards to her job; the amount of excitement that quickly overtook her as she gave her answer was welcome, but unexpected.

      “Send me the case details and trip itinerary. But I want to be back home within two or three days.”

      “Of course. I don’t see that being a problem. Thanks, Agent White. I’ll send everything I have to your e-mail.”

      Mackenzie ended the call and felt as if she were standing in the middle of a very surreal dream for a moment. Here she

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