She read off some of the headlines from the first stack of clippings. “‘Teenager’s Body Found in Woods.’ ‘Student Declared Missing.’ ‘Mother Pleads with Police to Search for Missing Daughter.’”
She thumbed through the other stacks. More of the same, all in reverse order so they started with a body being found and ended up with a woman who hadn’t shown up for work, class or a family dinner. Someone else had collected these stories for Nesbitt. There were no newspapers in prison. The articles must have been mailed to him. And since they were actual newsprint articles, she assumed a mother or elderly relative had done the honors.
Faith checked the dates above the bylines. The Grant County clippings were from eight years ago. The others spanned the years in between. “These stories aren’t exactly current.”
“My research is limited by my circumstances.” Nesbitt indicated the two more recent cases. “This one, she went missing three months ago. Her body was found last month. This one was found yesterday morning. Yesterday morning!”
His voice had screeched up on the last sentence. Faith let a few seconds pass before she answered, making it clear that yelling would not be tolerated. “How’d you hear about a body being found when you’ve been in lockdown since the riot?”
Nesbitt’s lips smacked open, then quickly shut. He must’ve had access to a smartphone. “The woman’s name is Alexandra McAllister. Her body was found by two hikers.”
Faith wanted to check on Will. She looked over her shoulder, telling him the name of the city where the body had been found, “Sautee Nacoochee.”
He nodded, but his attention was zeroed in on Nesbitt’s face. Will was good at spotting liars. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t looking at one.
Faith scanned the eight-day-old article on Alexandra McAllister’s initial disappearance. The woman had gone for a hike and hadn’t returned. The search had been called because of inclement weather. Sautee was in White County, which meant the sheriff’s department was handling the investigation. Faith had watched a news story about the woman’s body being found in the woods. The reporter had said foul play was not suspected.
She asked Nesbitt, “Who sent you these?”
“A friend, but that doesn’t matter. I have valuable information to trade.” Nesbitt clasped his hands together. His nails were rimmed with black like mold around a shower tile. “I know who killed Jesus Vasquez.”
“We’ll probably know who killed him by the end of the day,” Faith bluffed, but not by much. She was pretty sure from scanning the jackets on the eighteen inmates that they were close to nailing their guys. “Get out of jail free cards are very expensive.”
“I can save you the time. All I’m asking for is a fair shake.”
He was holding back something. Obviously. Cons held back the happy when they called their mother on her birthday.
“Look into these.” Nesbitt indicated the articles again. “You could be the cop who arrests a serial killer. All of these women got snatched after I was convicted. That’s the guy you want. Not me. I’m innocent.”
“That sets you apart from every other inmate inside these walls.”
“You’re not listening to me, dammit.” Nesbitt’s voice was loud enough to echo in the cramped room. He gritted his teeth, biting back an explosion of words. He had been institutionalized long enough to learn that anger would not get him what he wanted. But he had also been institutionalized, which meant self-control was probably not one of his strengths.
He said, “Look, I don’t belong in this facility. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Local law enforcement jammed me up because a young, white college student was killed and they had to pin it on somebody. It was blatant profiling.”
Faith said, “Statistically, white women are more likely to be murdered by white men.”
“That’s not the kind of profiling I’m talking about!” Nesbitt’s temper finally broke through. “Why aren’t you listening to me, you stupid fucking bitch?”
Faith felt Will coil behind her like a rattlesnake.
Nick had pushed away from the wall.
Nesbitt was surrounded, but his hands were still clenched. His ass was barely in the seat. Faith thought of all the places he could punch her before Will and Nick stopped him. Then she banished those thoughts, because she had a job to do. She’d told Will that inmates were like toddlers. If there was anything Faith knew, it was how to handle a bratty kid.
“Time out.” Faith T’d her hands to call it. “Nesbitt, if we’re going to keep talking, you’re going to have to do something for me.”
Nesbitt continued to stew in his chair, but he was listening.
Faith said, “Take in a deep breath, then slowly let it go.”
He looked confused, which was the point.
“Five times. I’ll do it with you.” Faith sucked in a deep breath to get him started. “In and out.”
Nesbitt finally relented, his chest rising and falling once, then twice, then eventually, the fury started to drain from his eyes.
Faith shushed out the fifth breath, feeling her own heart rate start to slow. “Okay, lay out your case for me. Why did you bring this to agent Shelton instead of the warden?”
“The warden’s a limp-dicked piece of shit. I know the law. The GBI is in charge of investigating corrupt law enforcement officers.” Nesbitt had spat out the words, but now he visibly worked to force some calm into his tone. “I am a victim of police corruption. I was profiled because I’m poor. Because I had a record. Because I spent too much time with girls.”
Girls.
Faith asked, “How old were these young ladies?”
“That’s not the point. Christ.” Nesbitt’s fist hovered over the table. He caught himself before banging it down. Unprompted, he took another deep breath, then hissed it out between his teeth. His breath was foul. She noticed that his skin was clammy.
Faith glanced over Nesbitt’s shoulder. Nick had put on his glasses so he could read about the Grant County side of things. Eight years felt like a lifetime. The newspaper clipping
