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Her Last Whisper: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Katie Scott Book 2)

Page 6

by Jennifer Chase


  Katie stepped back a little and studied the photograph from afar.

  “Fascinating, isn’t it?” said her uncle as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “It really is, depending on which way you look at it.”

  “I’ve read an article about a couple of these photographers and how they get their inspiration. It’s a great exhibit. Unfortunately, they’re only here for a couple of days.”

  “I’m glad we didn’t miss it.”

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “You know the rules. No shoptalk until I’ve seen everything and have a hamburger and chocolate shake in front of me.”

  “Of course,” said the sheriff. “C’mon, let’s start over here.” He guided Katie to the far end and they began to work their way around the gallery.

  “Okay, spill,” said the sheriff sitting across from his niece at their favorite diner.

  “That didn’t take you very long,” said Katie chuckling.

  “How was your first week?”

  “You read my report, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, but I’m asking you.”

  “You know, Uncle Wayne, there’s a thin line between asking and interrogating,” she said lightheartedly as the server dropped off a chocolate shake for her and a root beer float for her uncle. She savored the ice-cold drink for a moment before she began, waving a spoonful of whipped cream around to punctuate her point. “I’m beginning to see why no one wants to investigate cold cases.”

  “What makes you say that?” he asked.

  “There’s many directions you can go. The big question is where exactly to start.”

  “Now you see why they are cold cases.”

  “This case bothers me though.”

  “Which one?” he asked.

  “Amanda Payton’s abduction. There’s something unusual about it,” she said trying to overcome her ice cream headache.

  “Do you think she’s telling the truth or trying to cover something up?” The sheriff watched her closely, only taking his eyes off her to quickly glance around the room to make sure no one was listening.

  Katie leaned back, taking a break from her ice cream. She was amazed that her uncle was so on top of these old cases. “I’m in agreement with Deputy Windham. I think she’s absolutely telling the truth.”

  “I saw your formal request with the watch commander to have patrol drive by her residence on a regular basis. Good work. I agree with your decision.”

  She leaned forward and lowered her voice slightly. “I went to see her. She’s petrified he’s coming back for her. You can see it in her eyes and in her body language. It’s truly disturbing.”

  “Is there any possibility that she might be suffering from some sort of cognitive disturbance or illness? Schizophrenia?”

  The server with long dark hair braided down almost the full length of her back dropped off two large burgers and a giant basket of French fries. “Anything else?” she asked.

  “No, we’re good. Thank you,” said Katie.

  “Thank you,” her uncle said as the waitress left.

  Taking a big bite, Katie wrestled with her food before she answered her uncle. “No,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I believe that she experienced something terrible and her story is credible, but…”

  Finishing her sentence, he said, “But finding corroborating evidence is the problem.”

  Katie nodded. “I’m inching closer though.” She took another bite. “Are these burgers getting better, or what?”

  Swiping a French fry through a mound of catsup, he said, “It seems like it. I only eat here when I’m with you.” He smiled. “Maybe it’s the company?”

  “Uncle Wayne, are you buttering me up so I’ll tell you all my cold-case secrets?” She laughed.

  “I know how driven you can be. This placement is a little different than the other detective positions. You’re allowed some leeway and to oversee your own schedule.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t say this lightly. Please be mindful—and careful. Understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “I mean it.” He stared directly at her, eye to eye, to emphasize his concern.

  Katie softened. “I understand. There’s always going to be some risk, but I’m making the right choices. Thinking before I leap.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. You are so single-minded about solving these cases,” he said.

  “Isn’t that the point?” She ran her finger up the side of the cold glass. “You promoted me to this position for a reason—I’m not like other detectives.”

  “Don’t force me to make it a temporary position.” He suppressed a little laugh.

  “You would do that?” she said surprised.

  “All I’m saying is be a little bit more conservative and don’t jump in headfirst with everything.”

  “I know you’re right. There’s just a lot to digest right now and the suspect pool is too general and too large—which is frustrating.”

  “I did some checking to make sure that there wasn’t some rule against it.”

  “Against what?” she asked. Her curiosity piqued as she swallowed another bite.

  “I know that some of your field investigations can take you to places alone—sometimes after hours—and I think that it might be a good idea to bring Cisco with you during those times.”

  “Is it okay to bring him to my office?” Katie was intrigued by the idea, and she knew full well that Cisco would love being with her instead of at home alone.

  “No, but you can house him at the department’s kennel when you’re working, and then take him when you head out somewhere.”

  “I know Cisco would love being there, like he has a job again—even if it was just a kennel.”

  “He’s a great dog and I know you’ve been taking him to some of the K9 training.”

  “Yes, actually Sergeant Hardy asked me to join in whenever I like.”

  “Good. But I still need for you to include in your weekly reports the days that Cisco is with you and in what capacity. Understood?”

  “Got it,” she said. “Don’t worry, I promise I will be careful out there.”

  Twelve

  Thursday 0845 hours

  Katie stood in her office staring at her whiteboard. It helped her to recap all the information she had first thing in the morning, to walk around her office and take it all in; not something she’d be free to do upstairs in the detective division.

  She sighed, realizing how lucky she was to have such free rein working cold cases; but she was also frustrated at herself for not producing results fast enough. She knew that there would be the occasional stumbling blocks, and leads that would go nowhere, but this case was extra-complicated because she was dealing with the incident in the past and the ongoing threat in the present. She needed to come up with a strategy that would keep everything on track.

  As she thought about all her options, the phone on her desk rang, startling her. Tentatively she picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. “Detective Scott.”

  “There’s been a homicide. I need you out there,” stated her uncle.

  “Me?” Katie was momentarily confused why she was being informed.

  “It’s Amanda Payton. Someone found her body early this morning.”

  Katie’s heart pounded against her ribcage. “Where?” she said, trying to sound calm and professional.

  “A young couple out running this morning found her body at a vacant lot near Whispering Pines,” he said.

  “There’s been an ID already?”

  “Her purse was found nearby with her driver’s license and her identification from the First Memorial Hospital.”

  “I see,” said Katie, her mind whirring. “Who’s running the case?” she asked.

  “Detective Bryan Hamilton.”

  “I don’t know him,” she said, trying to put a face with the name.

  “He’s new to the department, a transplant from Stockton PD.”
>
  “I guess my cold case just got hot,” she said.

  “That’s why I need you.”

  “I can get all the information that I’ve been accumulating on Hamilton’s desk before he makes it back to the station.”

  “No, you do not understand, Katie. I need you to go to the crime scene and work the area with Detective Hamilton. I’ve already spoken to him and he’s waiting for you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Did you hear what I said? He’s waiting for you right now.” Her uncle’s voice was commanding.

  “I’m on my way,” she said, already halfway out the door.

  Thirteen

  Thursday 0945 hours

  Katie drove as fast as she could to the empty site near Whispering Pines that was destined to be the town’s new shopping mall. It was a pristine area that really represented the beauty of Pine Valley, with trails that bypassed around the vicinity and accommodated a large section of California pine trees. It wasn’t really called Whispering Pines. That was what most people called it because of the sound that the trees made when the wind blew—the sound of someone whispering.

  Katie tried to focus as she readied herself for what she had to do next. It pained her so much that Amanda’s fears had been realized, that she couldn’t help her, but for now she had to think only of the task in hand.

  Slowing her vehicle as she neared the area, Katie could see the first responders and crime scene unit were already there, which made parking tight. She had no choice but to park farther away and then walk, which gave her a little time to try and compose herself before working her first official homicide crime scene with a detective she had never met before.

  Standing with the driver’s door open, she clutched the side of the car to steady herself as the breeze chased up the dust from the larger vehicles ahead of her, dredging up a long-buried memory.

  The heavy dust mixed with scorching heat was something that was always difficult to deal with, but you had to forge ahead no matter what. It was forever in your eyes, mouth, and lungs. All of us were exhausted—even Cisco seemed tired as he kept the grueling pace towards a small village that had been known to be on our side. We passed a little girl and her mother preparing food in a big metal pot outside their house. It smelt delicious and I smiled as the little girl pointed at Cisco as we passed.

  My eyes locked with the mother and I felt her gratitude spur me on. But something made me look back before we turned the corner. Then came the explosion. In an instant, mother and daughter were gone…

  Katie blinked in shock, gulping back the memory she had packed away so neatly in her past. Her boots felt like they were filled with lead, but she forced herself to reach for her small field notebook and a pair of latex-free gloves; she had a job to do.

  Weaving around several vehicles, she finally reached the small number of deputies that had assisted in securing the scene, and now were busy keeping bystanders away from the area. Katie recognized Deputy Windham among them, and when their eyes met, he made his way over to her.

  “Detective,” he said with a serious expression.

  “Is it really her?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  He looked somber. “I’m afraid so.”

  “I’m here to assist Detective Hamilton.”

  “Oh course, he’s over there.” The deputy pointed in the direction past the morgue van.

  “Thank you,” she answered in a voice calmer than she felt.

  As Katie neared the crime scene, she was shocked to see that the body was still in its original position. She had expected it to be already loaded into the van. She swallowed hard, knowing she would have to see Amanda Payton’s body up close. The reality of the situation knotted her gut as she remembered reassuring Amanda that she would have patrol drive by her home to keep her safe.

  Katie focused on the tall man with dark wavy receding hair talking to one of the deputies. He was in his mid-forties, she guessed, and was dressed better than most of the detectives. He looked in her direction. His expression was somber as he watched her approach.

  “Detective Katie Scott?”

  “Yes. Detective Hamilton?” she replied.

  “Bryan.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. It was firm, the strong handshake of someone trying to assert their claim.

  “I know all about you,” he said, clearly not amused that he had to wait for a rookie detective to arrive to support his crime scene.

  “And what’s that?” Katie countered, wanting to get everything out in the open so that they could get on with the investigation.

  “You found those missing girls single-handedly. At least, that’s what the sheriff said,” he taunted.

  “Nice of you to say, but I certainly wasn’t alone.”

  “That’s not the way I heard it,” he mumbled.

  Katie changed the subject. “I hope that I’m not overstepping. I was told that I’d be assisting you on this case.” She tried to be diplomatic and keep her voice even.

  “The sheriff explained the situation,” he said and walked back to the body. “You knew her?”

  “I met with her just yesterday to talk about her kidnapping case and to see if I could get more information.” She tried to keep her voice steady as she followed him over to the edge of the scene and allowed herself to glance quickly at the body for the first time. Amanda was naked, her beautiful, lithe body facedown in the grass. Katie didn’t flinch, aware that everyone around was watching her closely.

  “She was definitely afraid that this… might happen,” Katie managed as the image of the smiling mother and child in Afghanistan flashed through her mind. She looked away from the crime scene and was relieved to see John on his knees organizing evidence containers, waiting for the go-ahead to begin processing the scene—waiting on her to do her job.

  “Well, let’s get started. I assume you’ve done this before?” Bryan asked.

  “What’s your procedure? I can tell you what I see and then we switch positions,” she said.

  “Be my guest.” He pulled a small wire-bound notebook from his inside jacket pocket to jot down notes. “After you…”

  “Okay,” she said, looking back down at the body, seeing it properly for the first time. There was no avoiding what she had to do next. Silence fell. No one spoke. Even the police radios had been turned down.

  Amanda’s head was turned to the right, exposing several rows of reddened marks across her pallid neck. Her dark hair partially obscured her face, arms bent close to her torso with palms down, pressing against the earth, and her legs straight close together. She looked more like a mannequin than the woman she had spoken with barely twenty-four hours ago.

  Katie pulled on her gloves, hoping that no one noticed her trembling hands. She needed to focus on the small details, the same way she had done in the army when she searched specific areas for tripwires and bomb devices. Keeping her focus narrowed and thorough would help her manage the full horror of the situation unfolding in front of her.

  Katie knelt close to Amanda and carefully pulled her wet hair away from her neck and face to reveal more of the marks on her throat. “It appears to be strangulation with these ligature marks on her neck—someone strangled her from behind. Whatever was used is consistent with the restraint marks you can see on her wrists and ankles. Rope or twine.” She gently picked up Amanda’s arm and studied the marks on her wrists, which were faint but distinct.

  Katie moved around the body, working in a clockwise rotation.

  She scrutinized Amanda’s entire body and couldn’t see any other wounds, only the pooling of blood at the bottom of her torso and the back of her legs as livor mortis set in and the slight stiffening of her arms and body indicating the early stages of rigor mortis. “Judging by the lividity, she was killed somewhere else and dumped here afterwards—this is the secondary crime scene. But what I’m not sure…” She looked at a strange mark on the side of the woman’s back, near her waistline; a long imprint with two l
ines going vertical.

  “What is that?” asked the other detective.

  “Not sure, but it could be something that she was forced up against when she was restrained. Like some type of furniture, outdoor railing, or maybe a car?”

  “Forensics will get photos,” he said.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but it appears that these restraint marks were post mortem. The medical examiner will be able to tell,” she said.

  “Why would he restrain her if she was already dead?” He took a couple of notes. “Why?”

  Katie studied the marks on the body and then noticed an almost imperceptible thread wedged under her middle fingernail. She turned and said to John, “We need to bag her hands before she gets put on the gurney. I can see some foreign fibers under her nails.”

  John nodded as he continued to wait until she was done with her initial scene examination.

  “Good eye, Detective,” said Hamilton, but his voice still wasn’t friendly.

  “Wait… there’s something else,” she said, taking her pen and cautiously prizing up Amanda’s pinky and ring finger to reveal a crumpled piece of paper curled into her fist.

  “What is that?” the detective asked.

  “I think it is…” she hesitated. “It looks like a business card.”

  “Whose?”

  Katie flattened the card and was taken aback. “Mine. I gave her my business card when I spoke with her.”

  “Why would the killer do that?”

  “I’m speculating, but whoever did this must know I was looking into her case. Maybe they want to send a warning?” Katie swallowed hard. Seeing her name clutched in Amanda’s lifeless hand sent chills down her spine. As if on cue, a gust of wind blew through the area causing the pines trees to sway and whisper around her.

 

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