Page 34 of The Lost Bones
“Prison.”
TWENTY
APRIL 16
Mackenzie felt the shift in the air that morning when she arrived at the station. It was electric. She parked her car and climbed out, immediately despising the balmy air that formed a thick paste on her skin. As she crossed the lot, she spotted a throng of reporters and camera crews outside the entrance to the building.
“Shit.” She slowed down and tucked her chin inside the collar of her light jacket.
“Debbie Arnold went missing two nights ago…”
“Her partner, Noor Khan, has alleged that the Lakemore PD isn’t doing enough…”
“Sources have confirmed that there hasn’t been a ransom demand yet…”
Mackenzie heard only tidbits before she went to the rear of the building and entered through the back door. Chaos was slowly mounting, and they were no closer to figuring out where Debbie was.
When she reached her floor, her feet stopped. A group of people including Rivera were engrossed in the television. On the screen, a man and a woman were in animated discussion.
“The disappearance of Debbie is an attack on free speech in this town,” the man declared.
“Why would you say that, Bob?” The woman was scandalized.
“Debbie is the only person in this town who has the balls to criticize the big shots. She called out the police when they were being incompetent and corrupt. Last year, when the mayor was lazy and too focused on re-election, she was the one with the sensitivity to suggest dedicating a bench to those kids who were killed.”
“But the free speech argument is a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Don’t you think the police will have bias against this victim? Don’t you think things are easier for them now that the person who criticized them on a daily basis has mysteriously vanished?”
The woman laughed nervously. “What exactly are you suggesting? That Debbie’s disappearance is part of some conspiracy?”
“The police won’t say anything, will they?” he scoffed. “But I can guarantee you that anyone who speaks up against them isn’t safe.”
Rivera switched off the television and spun on her heel. “Show’s over! Back to work!”
They all dispersed in different directions. Rivera was left standing in the middle of the room, quaking in anger.
“We should tell them.” Mackenzie approached her.
“Tell them what?” Rivera sounded annoyed.
“That Debbie’s disappearance is related to the two other homicides. Otherwise they’ll crucify us. Did you see the reporters downstairs?”
Rivera crossed her arms and squared her shoulders. “I won’t be bullied by unprofessional news anchors and reporters. We will treat this case like we treat any other. I’d rather focus on finding Ms. Arnold alive than worry about what to tell the media.”
A seed of insecurity planted itself inside Mackenzie. Rivera’s reaction was the one she herself should have had. But she hadn’t. Was this case actually getting to her?
“Keep your head in the game, Detective Price,” Rivera advised sternly. “The only way to get all this to stop is to focus only on one thing. The bastard behind it all. The rest is just noise.”
Mackenzie nodded curtly. Rivera clapped her arm and left the room.
Nick showed up and handed her a cup of iced tea. “We got some updates. Clint tracked down the domain information from the website selling the muskrat jacket. Peterson reached out, but the email address now belongs to someone else.”
“A dead end?” Her shoulders dropped.
He pressed his lips in a thin line. “Unfortunately. He’s working hard to redeem himself and figure out where that wristband came from. Noor doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Did we find out anything about Sophie’s sister?” she asked.
