Page 15

I follow Samantha’s instructions to find the conference room where I am meeting with the members of the Student Action Committee. There are already a few of them there when I step into the room.

“I’m Agent Griffin,” I introduce myself.

“I’m Lindsey,” one says.

“Peter.”

“Hope.”

“Curt.”

“Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming to talk to me. I’m going to get started, and if anyone else shows up, they can just jump in.” I close the door. “I’m not sure how much Samantha Clark told you, but I’m an FBI agent investigating a case involving the Tracy Ellis Ministry.”

The people sitting in front of me draw in breaths and exchange glances.

“You’re investigating that murder,” Peter says. “The security guard who was killed in his apartment.”

“Yes,” I tell him. “That’s part of it. What else have you heard about that case?”

“That people working for her have been getting threats,” Hope tells me. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“Have you ever heard her speak?” she asks.

“I have.”

“Then you know all she does is spew judgment and hate. After a while, people get tired of that. She can’t get away with just hiding behind her screwed-up version of religion and damaging people like that,” she says.

“I’m guessing that all of you were present at the protest that happened when Tracy Ellis spoke here,” I say.

They all nod.

“Us and some others,” Curt says. “That was one event where it wasn’t hard to get people willing to be involved.”

“Wait…,” Lindsey says, looking around at the others again and then meeting my eyes. “Do you think we had something to do with that guy getting killed?”

“He was one of the security guards who were here during the protest. I’m investigating as many leads as I can get, and it’s no secret how against her your group is. I’m just trying to find out as much as I can,” I say.

“We didn’t have anything to do with that,” Peter says. “That’s not what we do. Where about civil unrest and making our voices heard.”

“It’s difficult to call it ‘civil unrest’ when a situation gets as violent as that protest did,” I point out. “People were seriously injured. The police had to get involved.”

“That wasn’t the intention,” Hope says. “We just wanted to speak out against what she was saying and make sure the administration knew exactly how we felt about having her on campus. That’s the focus of our organization. What happens here in our community.”

“Tracy Ellis is a disgusting person, and the things that her so-called ministry teaches are abhorrent,” Lindsey says. “But we’re not about arbitrary shows of violence. We don’t send threats to people.”

“It would be pointless to do something like that,” Peter points out. “We’re about action—taking actual, tangible steps to make a difference in our community. It doesn’t do any good to slink around in shadows when you’re trying to make a point.”

“And ultimately, our focus is on what the campus and the college can accomplish,” says Curt. “There’s only so much a student organization can do when it comes to the wider world. We just didn’t want her here. What she and her group get up to elsewhere isn’t really our concern. We have more relevant things to worry about.”

I leave the meeting convinced that the students have nothing to do with what is unfolding within the ministry. They obviously have serious qualms against Tracy Ellis and her teachings, but they seem genuinely focused on making changes on the campus and within their own community. Going after the employees of the ministry and killing a security guard because he was present at a protest wouldn’t align with that. They want to make an impact and be recognized, not send anonymous notes and commit murder with only his employment as a motive.

I get back in my car and pull out into the street. Almost immediately, I notice a car come up behind me. They pull up close to my back bumper and follow right behind me as I turn to drive away from the academic buildings of the campus and into the surrounding city. The street is more congested away from the main campus, and I keep glancing into my rearview mirror to check the car that seems to be staying far too close to my car. I turn, and it turns with me, inching closer until I’m not even able to see the front of the car.

The driver appears to be a man wearing big sunglasses and a baseball cap. I turn again, and he’s right behind me. As we approach a line of cars behind a stoplight, I see he isn’t making any moves to slow down. I stop, and he rams into the back of my car, sending me into the car in front of me and making my airbag deploy, hitting me in the face and cutting my lip.

Slightly disoriented, I sit up and see that the man has appeared beside my door. He’s glaring at me through the window, and now I recognize him. Marcus Kelsey. Taking off my seat belt, I climb out of the car to confront him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.

“I know who you are,” he says. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What I’m doing is taking your ass down while we wait for the police to get here,” I say.

I reach out and grab for him, but he swats my hand away, bouncing on his toes slightly as he backs up away from me. A few quick moves have him down on the ground and my hand clamping his wrists into place.

In the distance, I can already hear sirens.

“I’m going to ask you again. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snarl.

“Tracy Ellis deserves to be punished,” he says. “Everyone around her deserves to be punished. You’re on the wrong side.”

“I’m on the side of a man who was murdered in his own home,” I tell him. “But you’ve just made me even more interested in having a chat with you down at the police station.”

The emergency vehicles arrive, and I release Marcus into the custody of the police, introducing myself and letting them know that I’ll be at the station to talk to him. Then I go to the vehicle in front of me to make sure the person inside is all right. The young woman looks upset, and she’s holding her head where she apparently hit it on the steering wheel, but there are no signs of any serious injury.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. She nods. “I’m sorry. He hit me from behind.”

She nods again. “I know.”

The paramedics come up to the car, and I step aside so they can help her out.

One of them looks at me. “Let’s get that lip looked at,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

“Probably, but I’d rather clean it up for you while we’re here.”

I relent and go over to the ambulance with him. He cleans the cut and gives me an ice pack to hold against my mouth while I give the police my statement about what happened.

“You say that you’ve been in contact with him before?” the officer asks when I try to explain the series of events leading up to this situation.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’m an FBI agent. I’m investigating a case, and his name came up as someone I should look into. I tried to get in contact with him, but he didn’t answer his phone and wasn’t at his house when I went there. He obviously heard about what I was doing and decided this was the way to make his message known. But now I am even more interested in having a talk with him about the case.”

“I’m sure you are,” the officer says. “You’ll need your car towed to the shop for repairs. But I can give you a ride to the station if you want.”

“That would be great, thanks. Just let me get my things out of the car.”

I get everything I need from the car and call for a tow truck. They tell me what shop they’ll bring it to, and I make a note of the address before climbing into the officer’s car. On the way to the station, I call Bellamy.

“Can you come out here and pick me up at the police station?” I ask her.

“What did you get yourself into now?” she asks.

“Thank you for your support. I’m glad to know my best friend is so concerned about my well-being,” I counter.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I have a cut lip, and I’m pissed off, but I’ll be fine,” I say.

“All right. Then what did you get yourself into now?” she asks.

“Remember I told you about that Marcus Kelsey guy, the one whom the quitting employee told me I should look into because of the strange way he left the company? The way that no one seems to know about?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Well, he decided that instead of just giving me a callback, he’d somehow track me down and ram into the back of my car at a stoplight,” I tell her. “He got out of his car and started ranting about how Tracy Ellis and everyone around her deserved to be punished. So he’s on his way to the station, and I’m on my way to talk to him. But my car is not going to be able to accompany me.”

“Got it,” she says. “I’ll head out there in a bit to give you some time.”

“Thanks.”

We arrive at the station, and the officer leads me to a small interrogation room where Marcus Kelsey is sitting in handcuffs with a detective. The detective stands up and shakes my hand as I walk into the room.

“Detective Reese,” he says.

“Good to meet you. Agent Griffin.”

He nods. “I know who you are. What’s going on here? All I heard was, there was a minor car collision at a stoplight. Hardly seems reason to haul someone in and get them questioned by the FBI.”

“That’s not exactly the whole story,” I tell him. I look at Kelsey. “Is it?”

“You shouldn’t be helping her,” he says through gritted teeth. “Do you even know who she is? Do you know the types of things she’s capable of?”

“I’m not helping Tracy Ellis,” I say. “I’m investigating the murder of Gideon Bell and the series of threats that have been received by the people who work for her. One of whom, I might add, brought your name up specifically as someone I should talk to about what’s happening.”

“I didn’t kill anybody,” he hisses at me. “But if they work for Tracy, then they had it coming, and you shouldn’t be trying to stop the person giving them the punishment they deserve.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“She hurts people,” Marcus says. “She knows what she’s doing. She pretends that she’s all about love and making the world a better place, but she’s not. She doesn’t care whom she steps on along the way or how much damage she causes, as long as she gets all the attention and can feel like she’s better than everyone around her.”

“I know that you were fired from the ministry. What led up to that?” I ask.

“Tracy used me up and tossed me aside. Just like she does with anyone else who crosses her path,” he huffs.

“I need to know what you were doing the night Gideon Bell was murdered,” I say.

A smile crosses Marcus’s face, and he sits back. “I was spending some quality time with these fine gentlemen.”

“You were in custody?” I ask.

He nods. “I got in a fight at a bar, and the little bitch decided he needed to press charges. So I had a lovely sleepover behind bars. And at no point did they let me out long enough to go kill someone.”

I get confirmation that Marcus Kelsey was in custody at the time of Gideon’s death and leave the station frustrated after making sure he’ll get slapped with extra charges for running into me. Bellamy calls me as I’m walking out of the station, and I turn the corner to see her car with another right behind it. Eric climbs out of the second car and waves.

“We decided you were going to need to be able to get around, so we rented you this,” he says. “How bad is the damage to your car?”

“Not too bad,” I tell him. “The front and back ends are a little messed up and the airbags deployed. I haven’t had a chance to talk to the body shop yet, so I’m not sure how long it will take them to get it fixed. I can’t imagine it will be too long though.”

Eric tosses me the keys to the sedan they rented for me and climbs into the passenger seat beside Bellamy.

“Thanks,” I say, holding up the keys.

“You headed back to the house?” he asks.

“Yep,” I tell him.

“All right. See you later.”

They drive off, undoubtedly to bring Eric back to work, and I start for their house. I’m not far from the police station when I get a call from Detective Fuller.

“Hey, Agent Griffin,” he says. “I wanted to let you know that we got all the information you requested about Gideon Bell. His phone records and everything.”

“Great. I’ll be there to get them soon,” I tell him.

I drive away from one police station and head for the other, hoping something in the records will get me on the right path.