The Killing League

33.

Mack

Mack opened the front door before Ellen Reznor had a chance to knock.

“Are we on high alert or something?” she said as she gave him a hug.

“Nah, but Adelia’s gone until tomorrow so I’m on full-time duty.”

They went up to the kitchen and Mack poured them both a cup of coffee.

“How’s your Mom?” Mack asked. Reznor’s mother lived in a managed care facility an hour north of Estero. When she made it down for a visit, which was occurring with greater frequency as her mother’s health declined, Reznor always stopped by and saw Mack.

“A little worse than the time before,” she said. “She still recognizes me, though, so we can have a conversation at least. The doctors tell me that may not last much longer.” Reznor’s mother had many health issues, but the onset of Alzheimer’s was perhaps the most immediate.

Reznor took a sip of coffee. “How are you?”

He smiled. “Better now that I’m done with that f*cking presentation. I hate doing those lectures.”

“Can you believe Whidby showed up?” she said. “The guy apparently has nothing better to do than drive down to Quantico just to act like an a*shole.”

Mack set his cup down. “I still don’t know why he hates me with such a passion. I mean, I get that he doesn’t like me, we certainly butted heads quite a bit. But why is he so emotionally invested in it?”

Reznor smiled. “Everyone hates you, Mack. Even my ex did. He thought we were having an affair. What a dick.”

“Whatever happened to him? Good old Lance.” Mack thought back to the advice he’d given Reznor regarding Lance Gilmore. Don’t marry him, was the sum of it, as he recalled. But Reznor was still in her bad-boy phase. The more who told her he was a loser, the more she wanted him.

She nodded. “He left the country, last I heard. Typical. Most guys who leave their wives leave the city, this guy had to leave the country. He’s probably sworn off women, too. Probably living in some Caribbean island chasing the local men around.”

As much as they both tried to avoid it, Mack was always surprised at how often they spoke of that time of their lives. It all peaked around the same time as the Jeffrey Kostner case. His involvement, obsession really, with catching the sadistic killer. Then the aftermath of his involvement with Nicole Candela. Reznor’s marriage ended. And Janice, already deep into the worst kind of alcoholism, fell in love with another drunk and they locked themselves up in a shitty apartment for months on end, drinking their brains to oatmeal.

And Whidby became the sworn enemy of Wallace Mack, eventually pushing him out of the Bureau. Which Mack was only too happy to let happen.

Plus, he needed to take care of Janice.

“So what are you working on?” Reznor said.

Mack sat back down with fresh coffee for both of them. “I re-sent a request to the Georgia Tri-State Trucking Commission that manages driver information for Florida, Georgia and Alabama. I got no response the first time.”

“Typical,” Reznor said.

“And I also sent another request to the Charleston Municipal Hospital for detailed personnel records.”

Reznor looked over the edge of her cup at him. “Charleston?”

“They’ve had some suspicious deaths the last couple years. Recently, a young girl died for no reason. They did an autopsy but couldn’t find anything conclusive. Just the trace presence of some medication that shouldn’t have been there.”

“Want me to lean on them?” Reznor said. Since she was still active duty FBI, she could make a more authoritative request than Mack.

“I think I’ll get a response soon from both of them. If I don’t, maybe then I’ll bring out my Secret Weapon.”

She smiled at the compliment.

“So how’s Janice?” she said.

Mack sighed. “She’s good. It’s just that she keeps saying that someone is watching her.”

“Is it the memory thing?”

“I think so,” Mack said. “People with this illness create memories to take the place of those that have been lost. But she usually doesn’t repeat the same fantasy. Other than her old boyfriend Shelby. The one she holed up with and drank her brain away. She used to see him regularly, but this latest one is someone new.

“What does she say?” Reznor said.

Mack looked out at the river.

“That a man is watching her. And that he gave her this.” Mack retrieved the card from the kitchen counter and slid it across the table to Reznor.

“KL,” she said. “What is it?”

Mack shrugged. “I haven’t been able to find anything that matches. No local companies. No follow-up phone calls for landscaping services. It just appeared like that.”

She set it back down on the table.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Probably just a catering service or something. Some kind of weird promotion.”

Mack turned back to face her.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” But even to him, his voice sounded hollow.