“I know what you’re telling me is correct, but it doesn’t feel that way,” said Katie, feeling suddenly exhausted and wanting the day to be over.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Let the feelings come, and we can address them together, and then finally let them go. You will begin to feel better—I promise.”
“You make it sound easy.” Katie nervously laughed. “One, two, and three…”
“It isn’t,” the doctor said flatly. “But, I know you’re strong and I know you’ll get through this and move forward with a healthy attitude.”
Katie nodded. She knew that the doctor was using a recent situation as a gateway into the more deep-rooted and traumatic experiences that truly haunted her. Start small and then move to the bigger obstacles. She’d do the same in Dr. Carver’s position.
Let the feelings come…
Move forward with a healthy attitude…
Eight
Tuesday 0730 hours
Katie and McGaven sat alone in the patrol briefing room waiting for Sheriff Scott to make an appearance. They had been summoned early to meet with him. The room was set up like a classroom with chairs and desks in neat rows in front of a podium, computer screen and large blackboard. The soft buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights was the only thing keeping them company. It cast a yellowish hue, making everything seem ugly.
It was unusual to meet in the large room instead of in the sheriff’s personal office. Katie tried to figure out what her uncle had in mind. It obviously had to do with the Candace Harlan cold case and the fact that the latest homicide victim wasn’t her. She tapped her foot trying to combat the anxious energy charging through her and pushed away any early signs of her silent enemy.
She glanced to McGaven. He sat at attention, spine straight, with his eyes forward; always ready and waiting for whatever came next. Katie was about to say something to him, but decided to stay quiet.
The main door opened and Sheriff Scott seemed to hesitate before entering the room. Katie heard low voices in the corridor. Finally, the sheriff opened the door wide and was followed by a tall, striking blonde woman, in her forties, wearing a dark suit. Next came Detective Hamilton, John Blackburn from forensics, Lieutenant Commander Reyes, Lieutenant Sanders from the detective division, and the head of internal affairs. It was quite the ensemble.
Katie felt her pulse kick up another gear as the group filed in and took their places near the podium—this wasn’t going to be pleasant.
The door opened again and several deputies and a few other detectives filed in quietly and took available seats in the audience around Katie and McGaven.
The tension was palpable as Sheriff Scott moved behind the podium to begin. Katie noted that her uncle looked strong. His tanned face, chiseled features, and greyish cropped hair made him handsome, but his demeanor today really made the crowd sit up and pay attention. It had taken him a while to move through the grieving process after his wife’s murder, but it made Katie happy to see that he was beginning to thrive once again as the department’s respected leader.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’m sorry it was last minute, but rather than leaving messages, I wanted to do this in person. This department has been through a lot of changes as well as challenges of late. I wanted to talk to you in person to thank you all for the overwhelming support I have received during my most difficult time…”
Katie watched intently as her uncle addressed the room. Her arms tingled, a sign of a big change coming.
“And for that I want to thank you—each of you,” he said. He then turned and gestured to the woman in the suit standing closest to him. “This is Dorothy Sullivan, our new undersheriff. She will be taking the place of Samuel Martinez, who has recently resigned.”
Katie watched Sullivan with curiosity. Expensive outfit, perfect coifed blonde hair, three-inch heels, studded stone earrings, and a diamond ring worn on her right hand. She looked professional, but Katie had a difficult time imagining her doing the rounds in a police officer’s uniform or engaging in a shootout.
The sheriff continued, “She comes to us from the Fresno Police Department with an amazing resumé where she implemented new patrol and detective protocols to help ensure safety for our officers while increasing patrol for the neighborhoods. Her background in police and community proactive safety and Neighborhood Watch has been receiving positive results in many other jurisdictions as well. She’s been a patrol officer, homicide detective, and SWAT officer. She will oversee some of the patrol and detective operations here.” He moved out of the way and allowed Sullivan to approach the podium to say a few words.
“Thank you, Sheriff Scott. I won’t bore everyone and take up your time, but I want to say that I’m looking forward to meeting and working with each one of you. I’ve met with Sheriff Scott on several occasions and we have the same vision for the department. I cannot wait to get started and we can work together to make Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department one of the best in the state of California. Thank you.”
Katie looked at McGaven who seemed just as surprised as she was at the sudden announcement.
“Okay, patrol, you are dismissed,” the sheriff stated.
As the group began to filter out of the room, Katie and McGaven stood up to leave as well.
“Scott and McGaven, not you two,” Sheriff Scott stated. There was no inflection in his voice except business, which made it difficult to know if he had good or bad news for them.
They moved to the front line of desks and took a seat to wait and hear what their fate was at the department—and more importantly what was going to happen to the cold-case unit.
“First,” the sheriff began, “we want to commend you both for your exceptional work in solving cold cases for the department and the community, especially in such a short period of time. Your efficiency and creativeness have been exemplary. But…”
Here it comes…
“It has come to our attention that certain protocols have recently been taken without the proper channel of authority’s authorization. Detective Scott, even though the department commends you on your hard work and unfailing dedication, we cannot overlook some actions on your part…”
Oh crap…
“Taking an investigation into your own hands by trapping a killer and putting your partner and forensic supervisor in the line of fire is never acceptable. All without proper protocol and chain of command. Your personnel file will reflect these lapses in judgment, but it will in no way demote or change your current position. The reason why we have such chains of command is for your safety. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is for a law enforcement officer to follow the rules and get the proper authority to go through the proper channels. If we don’t follow simple rules, then we will be faced with chaos and potential loss of life.”
Katie fidgeted in her seat, but never averted her gaze from her uncle. She didn’t dare look at anyone else but she knew all eyes were on her.
“Now, on to the real business at hand,” the sheriff said.
What the…
“Since the latest homicide victim hasn’t been identified yet, but is not Candace Harlan the missing girl we first assumed her to be, this puts us in an unusual situation. We have decided, after careful consideration, due to the information available and the work already done on the Candace Harlan’s missing persons case, it should be headed up by the cold-case unit. If they deem additional help necessary, it would be proper to provide it.”
Katie let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She tried to wrap her brain around the fact that she was reprimanded and a permanent record of her conduct in trying to find her aunt’s killer would be lodged in her file, but she was still being given a recent homicide to investigate.
“Is there any problem with taking the case?” the sheriff asked.
Katie blinked and said, “No, not at all.”
“Good. Of course, John and Detective Hamilton will be available to you as well.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, much appreciated.” Katie finally made eye contact with the rest of the group. John cracked a slight smile although Detective Hamilton’s serious expression was hard to read.
The sheriff went on to explain that they had to continue writing daily reports and submitting them to him and internal affairs. Katie’s mind went numb, still trying to work out what was going on. When the sheriff had finished, he excused her and McGaven and began talking with the other members.
Katie tapped McGaven on the shoulder and they just were heading out of the room when Undersheriff Sullivan stopped her.
“Detective Scott?” she said, her voice low and direct.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to tell you in person. I’ve read your file and the cases that you’ve closed. And I’m impressed—really impressed,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“And I really would like to chat with you sometime about profiling and victimology.”
“Yes, of course. I would like that,” said Katie, not really meaning it, but wanting to be polite nonetheless.
“Good. We’ll meet up soon.” She left.
In a whisper, McGaven said, “New friend?”
“Looks like it.”
Katie and McGaven hurried through the door and down the hallway.
“I’m sorry about the reprimand,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“C’mon, I think you’d be a little bit bummed.”
“No.”
“Yes you are.”
“Okay, maybe a little. But I would do what I did again in a heartbeat.”
Nine
Tuesday 0845 hours
Back in her office, Katie plunged herself into the investigation with renewed energy, filling out the lists of what they knew—even though the murder investigation had already started with an unexpected twist. Once she was finished scribbling on the big whiteboard, she stood back to take it all in from afar.
“I’m struggling too,” said McGaven, reading her mind. “Trying to get my wits around everything so far, especially after that meeting.”
His voice startled Katie, who had been concentrating so hard she’d forgotten he was in the room. “Our murder victim is our main objective,” she said. “But everything we know up to this point about Candace Harlan is also important. They are connected—somehow.” Her voice trailed off. She was stumped for the time being.
“What are the odds that a murder victim dumped at Elm Hill Mansion would so resemble Candace Harlan’s profile?”
“Well,” said Katie. “We need to start at the beginning.”
“Meaning?”
“The missing persons report and the crime-scene location.”
“Candace Harlan and Elm Hill Mansion.” He nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” she said as she flipped open the missing persons file and studied her notes. “We don’t have much from the missing persons report and the crime scene creates more questions than answers.”
“Isn’t that the way every investigation begins?” he said, trying to sound optimistic.
“Okay, wise guy. Have you found anything more on the house yet?”
“It looks like it was built in 1895, but that’s all, so far.”
“I could visit my friend Shane Kendall, the archivist at the county building, to search for anything about the house and property.”
“Sounds solid,” he said, typing something, hitting the “enter” button and sitting back to wait for the search engine to churn. “Oh.”
“Oh? What does that mean?” she said.
“The house manager, a Mrs. Shelly McDonald, maiden name Shelly Deville, is serving five years for burglary. Most likely be out in two.”
“Great. She might give us information in return for a good word to her parole officer. Her relationship status?”
“Looks like she was married to a Douglas McDonald and divorced ten years ago. No information regarding any contact after that.”
Katie stood up; her muscles were tight and a numbing headache pushed against her sinuses as she tried to see a way through all this partial information. “We need to have Denise run a report for those requests for police assistance at the house, and… can you find out the social worker, or social workers, who placed girls at that home?”
“On it.”
“If you can, we also need to find out who worked at Elm Hill Mansion. There had to be a cook, maid, groundskeeper, or someone besides the manager. They could be listed as county employees.”
“I’ll get on this right away, but it might be a bit of a waiting game for responses.”
“Maybe Denise can help?” she suggested.
“Denise is awesome,” he said as he sent an email to request information.
Katie turned to him and smiled. “She definitely is…”
“I ran background on Candace Harlan, but there’s nothing after the time she stayed at Elm Hill.”
Katie frowned, looking at her notepad. “Well, let’s go see what Crossroads Plaza Dental has to say.”
Looking up, he said, “Road trip?”
“You bet, let’s go.”
Katie drove with McGaven straight to the local dentist, not bothering to call ahead of time. She knew that Candace Harlan was a patient there from the x-rays forwarded to the medical examiner’s office, and she wanted to acquire as much information as she could on Candace’s last known whereabouts while she waited on other leads.
Pulling into the Crossroads Plaza shopping area, Katie easily found a parking place. There were three cars around back, probably employees, and two customer cars in front.
The building was large, square, one-story, and had many windows. It was a pretty structure with low-lying shrubs and a few late-blooming flowers hanging in baskets near the entrance. Two benches faced each other where patients could wait, and stenciled on gold strips by the door were the names Dr. Thomas Elgin, DDS and Dr. Francis E. McAlister, DDS.
“Dr. Elgin is Candace’s dentist,” she said and opened the wide glass door.
Inside, the air conditioner was on full force, which seemed strange since it was fall and the weather wasn’t at all hot. She caught the immediate smell of a disinfectant and other chemicals. The large waiting room had several couches with big pillows and a dozen chairs in rows. There was one man sitting in the corner waiting. He looked up from his magazine and gave Katie a once-over—it wasn’t clear if it was because she was a woman, or the fact that she had her badge and gun visible.
Behind a plexiglass barrier was a young woman with short brown hair, oversized glasses, and a neat blue uniform. Pinned to her top was a smiling bear face with the name Cara beneath.
The woman looked up and saw Katie and McGaven. “Hi… Can I help you?” she said, forcing a smile though her eyes were glued to McGaven’s gun.
“Hi,” McGaven said, taking the lead and looking at her name tag, “Cara.”
She smiled.
“I’m Deputy McGaven and this is my partner Detective Scott. We’re from the Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department. We’re here following up on an investigation. I wonder if you could help us?” he said with a smile.
“Sure,” she replied enthusiastically.
“Is Dr. Elgin here?”
“Yes, he is, but he’s in surgery at the moment.”
“I see. Well, I’m sure you can help us.”
“I’ll try,” she said and nervously laughed, glancing at Katie for the first time.
McGaven leaned against the counter like he was going to tell her a secret. “Our medical examiner just requested some x-rays for a Candace Harlan. And we need a little more information. Can you do that for us?”
“Well… I don’t know…” she stammered.
“We can get a warrant, but who wants to go through all that?” he said. “We just want to know when her last visit here was.”
“Well… okay…” she said and keyed up the computer. “You said Candace Harlan?”
“Yes.”
Cara
clicked through several screens until she found what she was looking for. “Okay, yes, I see where her dental records were requested for ID.” She gasped. “Is she…?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we need more information. You are really helping us by doing this.”
Katie hoped that McGaven wasn’t laying the charm on too thick.
The doors opened and a woman with two little girls entered. They found a place to sit down and wait after finding some toys in a basket in the corner.
The receptionist left the desk and went to the files.
One of the little girls approached Katie. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?” she said, bending down to the little girl’s level.
“Are you a policeman?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Where’s your uniform?”
“I’m actually a detective. We don’t wear uniforms like the police officers on the streets.”
“Oh,” she said. “Is it scary?” She watched Katie with large blue eyes and an innocent expression.
“Well, sometimes. But that’s why I have a partner. We take care of each other.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you,” she said and then skipped back over to her mom and sister.
Katie smiled and moved her focus back to McGaven and the receptionist.
“Okay, here’s her file,” she said, opening it. “Ms. Harlan was here at the beginning of the year in February. She had a crown fixed and complained of teeth sensitivity.”
“I see,” said McGaven. “Do you remember her?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. She came in on a Thursday and that’s my day off.”
“What’s her address? We need to double check that we have the right one,” he said and smiled.
“Oh, uh, it looks like 1457 Green Street.”
Last Girls Alive: A totally addictive crime thriller and mystery novel (Detective Katie Scott Book 4) Page 5