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

by Jennifer Chase

  “You. You really don’t know how great you are. Do you? You have a gift and a sixth sense that goes way past a gut instinct.”

  “McGaven, I appreciate the compliment, but I need—”

  “You need to stay with this investigation and work through it your way—thorough and methodical.” He gestured to the preliminary profile. “This,” he emphasized, “is what is going to drive this investigation. I know you take everything to heart, too much at times, but you will get through this and we will find the killer.”

  Katie dropped her files on the desk, then went to the cabinets to search for something.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  She kept rifling through drawers and empty boxes until she found what she was looking for. “Aha,” she said, pulling out an empty coffee can that had been there quite some time, by the looks of it. Placing it down on the desk she spent a minute or so working at it with a piece of masking tape, large black marker, and a pair of scissors before presenting it to McGaven. Psych Outs it said along the masking tape, and there was a slot cut in the plastic lid.

  “I changed my mind. You’re just crazy,” he said.

  Katie reached into her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and dropped it in the can. “This, my friend, is when one of us needs a pep talk or is feeling like they aren’t doing the job. Now, who do you think is the crazy one?” She smiled and felt better. “Thanks, I needed that pep talk.”

  “So who gets the money when it’s full?” he asked.

  “I was thinking it could go for beers, something along those lines.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He dropped another couple of dollars in the can. “Just moving it along a little faster.”

  “Okay, back to the case.” She turned her attention to her working board. “I found out some interesting information from the county building and planning department.”

  “How long was I going to have to wait?”

  “The Basin Woods Development was originally called Woodland Pines Project and it was supposed to be an upper-middle-class type of neighborhood, but funds fell through. Seems like there was all types of corruption going on at all levels. But the Basin Woods Development was finally given the green light and built in 1990.”

  “Okay, what does this have to do with the investigation?”

  “The Magna Group was the first contract and the president was Kenneth Jamison, Sr.”

  “Whoa, related to Dr. Jamison?”

  “I need you to check it out, but I believe so.”

  “I’m going to say again. What does this have to do with the investigation?”

  “I’m not sure—yet.”

  “Fair enough.” McGaven sat down at his desk, taking notes.

  “But… it’s too coincidental.”

  McGaven got up from his desk and dropped a dollar bill into the Psych Out can.

  “What was that for?” Katie asked.

  “Words that never should be uttered during a police investigation—too coincidental.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” Katie laughed. “If that’s Dr. Jamison’s father and it was for a building project that now is in ruins… and his co-worker claimed to have been held captive there… Sounds a bit hinky. I can use the word hinky right?”

  “Borderline.”

  “Really, what are the odds? The researcher is sending over copies tomorrow of everything and a list of the last residents before it was deemed unlivable.”

  “Great, another list of people to run backgrounds.”

  “Fun, I know. But I think we’re getting somewhere—I just don’t know where yet.”

  “Okay,” said McGaven. “What now?”

  “It’s a bit distressing waiting for forensics. But that’s the way it is. What about the phone records?”

  “I should hear by tomorrow.”

  “Good,” she said, pacing in her small area.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “Jane Doe.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They moved her to the Cold Springs facility.”

  “And? You seem concerned.”

  “I think that she knows who she is and that she’s afraid that the person who kidnapped her is coming back to kill her—so claiming she doesn’t know who she is keeps her safe. I can’t let anything happen to her,” she said, deeply concerned.

  “Safety behind bars—creepy kind, but still…”

  “What now?”

  “Road trip.”

  “Road trip?”

  “For me, first thing tomorrow. And it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Darn.”

  “I want you to finish background checks, push the phone records for Emily Day’s house, and start looking at employees working at First Memorial Hospital, in particular employees working on Amanda’s floor.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “And push the search for video cameras near and around Emily Day’s house the night Amanda left. Focus about an hour before 10.30 p.m. for now, until we see the phone records.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Katie stared at her board and the map of the county. The hospital seemed to be in the middle of everything. “See what you can find out at the hospital. Use your charm with the nurses,” she instructed. “I can catch up with you after I finish what I have to do. I think at this point it makes more sense us splitting up for efficiency. But call or text me with any news.”

  McGaven wrote more notes down.

  “I think we need to do a backdoor approach to Dr. Jamison before confronting him head on. I want to make sure that Jamison senior from the building project is actually his dad so we can ask the right questions when we have him.”

  He nodded. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Denise is still gathering information on social media, so that could lend some interesting reading and maybe some new people of interest. If you like, you can check in with her.”

  “Where is the open road going to take you?”

  “I’m going to visit Jane Doe again and see if I can get more information, but I have something personal to take care of along the way.”

  “Do you think you can get more information about the kidnapper from this Jane Doe?”

  “I think Jane Doe is the key to this entire investigation.”

  Thirty-Two

  Wednesday 0745 hours

  Katie made sure that she had packed the police sedan with some extra essentials: a change of clothes, snacks, and plenty of water. Cold Springs was a good hour of a scenic drive from Pine Valley. It would have been nice to have McGaven riding along but they would cover more ground going their separate ways.

  She had almost let too many emotions slip out when talking with McGaven yesterday, but the truth was something in her had resurfaced after seeing Nick again. It felt too soon to have her new life as a detective intersect with her time in the army. How could she possibly balance these two huge parts of her life at once?

  Her cell phone rang. Glancing down, she saw it was Chad and decided to ignore the call until later. The last thing she needed right now was more complications. She accelerated and sped along the main roads for almost half an hour until she took the cutoff towards Cold Springs.

  Pressing the button to lower her window, she took in the magnificent fragrance of the California pines. It was such a picturesque area with trees and intermittent open meadows and slightly sloping valleys. Taking a deep breath she felt herself relax.

  Katie had a gap of time before visiting hours to see Jane Doe, so she decided to make the most out of her trip. Her mind continued to run through her perp and victim lists. She desperately wanted to zero in on a suspect soon. Things were moving along, but not fast enough.

  In less than forty minutes, Katie turned onto a freeway leading to Cold Springs only five miles ahead. Glancing at her notebook, she’d written down a street called Chanticleer, which was the last known address for Nick’s missing brother, James Haines. Nick had given her a photo t
aken about ten years ago of a handsome man, clean-shaven, brown hair, and a crooked smile; just like Nick, but younger.

  The area of town was old and run-down with junked cars parked in front of most houses and barns. She saw two men sitting in old beach chairs drinking beer and playing cards and slowed the sedan until she saw a dilapidated mailbox leaning to one side that read 545.

  The thought never occurred to Katie that she might be entering into a hostile environment, but she was confident that she wasn’t going to assume anything without proof first. She pulled to the side of the road and parked—it was the best place she could leave her vehicle and the easiest location to make a quick departure.

  She opened the driver’s door and was immediately hit with the heavy smell of marijuana, legal in the state of California, but nauseating. Everything would smell like pot smoke by the time she left and that annoyed her. She sighed, but exited her car anyway and quickly shut the door. It appeared to be an area where they grew the large plant harvests. That changed a few things a bit; it might make some of the locals around the area suspicious by her presence—even make her visit seem a bit dicey.

  Katie made sure that her weapon was concealed properly and she had her cell phone tucked securely in her pocket and walked up to the cabin. The front area was entirely dirt with a few rocks tossed to the side. Large trees grew behind the cabin with looming branches draped over the rooftop. The chimney puffed ringlets of smoke into the tree branches.

  Katie walked up the two steps to a small lopsided porch and knocked on the door. There was no answer and no sound of any movement inside. She knocked again—this time more assertively. Still no one answered.

  She stepped down from the broken porch and walked around the cabin. There were all types of tools and wood, some organized, while other pieces were strewn all over. She heard the sound of someone chopping wood.

  Thud… clack… bump…

  The repetition was distinct and rhythmic, but made her cautious. She was stepping onto someone’s private property, without an invitation, trying to locate someone’s lost brother. Not the best idea, but there was no other way.

  Thud… clack… bump…

  Katie moved slowly and kept her balance as well as her wits. Rounding the corner of the house, she saw a large, bear-like man swinging an oversized ax splitting wood. He slowly reset another log. He was dressed in a heavy lumberjack shirt and dark blue jeans tucked into waterproof boots. He grunted now as he wielded the ax and slammed down onto the log. She stood for a moment, not entirely sure how to alert the man to her presence. Should she introduce herself as a police officer, or just a woman looking for a friend’s brother?

  The man continued to work through his routine, each time getting a little bit slower as exhaustion began to take over.

  Thud… clack… bump….

  Katie decided it was now or never.

  “Hello? I was looking for James Haines. Does he still live here?” she said in her most casual voice.

  The burly man stopped what he was doing and froze, not looking up.

  “James Haines? Does he live here?” she repeated and walked toward the man.

  The man slowly looked up and then straightened—even taller than Katie had anticipated. He lifted the ax and seemed he was about to attack.

  “Stop!” Katie yelled and drew her weapon in one swift action. “Stay right there! Now, drop your weapon.”

  The man didn’t move, the ax still above his head.

  “Take it easy. I’m just looking for James Haines. He’s not in trouble. I’m a friend of his brother.”

  “Who are you?” he said.

  “I’m Detective Katie Scott with the PV Sheriff’s Department. Now, please put the ax down.”

  A few tense seconds passed.

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” she said, holding firm and inching closer to the man.

  In one awkward moment, the man dropped the axe, turned and ran in the opposite direction.

  Crap.

  Katie took off after him. “Stop!” she yelled.

  His weighty footfalls and labored breathing echoed in the forest making it easy to follow him. Gaining distance, jumping over low-lying logs and pivoting around branches, she ran with swift speed. Taking a lower path, she managed to easily pass the large man and doubled back.

  At the last second, she jumped out in front of him and yelled, “Stop!”

  He stopped and dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath, face red, and chest heaving. Weakly, he raised his hands, giving up in defeat.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, still training her gun on his torso.

  “Bear,” he gasped.

  “Bear?”

  He nodded.

  “Bear what?”

  “Ham… Hamlin.”

  “Okay, Bear Hamlin. Get up.”

  It took him a moment and then he managed to stand up and face her. Even though he was a big man, he looked sheepishly at her and seemed to be ashamed of what he had done.

  “Why did you run?”

  “I thought you were them.”

  “Them who?”

  “Those guys who were looking for Jimmy.”

  “Are you talking about James Haines?” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Does he live here?”

  “He moved out a couple of months ago.”

  “Why were those guys looking for him?” She relaxed her gun and lowered it by her side, but still prepared to use it.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Guess.”

  “He owed some people money. I know he gambled and mixed with certain kinds of people that don’t like it if you don’t pay them back.”

  “I see. Do you know where he moved to?”

  Bear shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Again, take a guess.”

  “He liked this girl.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. What’s her name?”

  “Gaby or Nady, I think.”

  “Last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did he visit her when he was living here?”

  “Yeah. Somewhere in town.”

  “If I put this away are you going to behave like a gentleman?” she asked, drawing attention to her gun.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she said and holstered her Glock. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  Katie walked back to the cabin with Bear and neither spoke until they were back at the wood chopping area.

  “Mr. Hamlin, thank you for your time,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Ms?”

  “Detective,” she corrected.

  “Detective, when you find him let him know that he was a great roommate and it’s not the same around here.”

  Katie smiled. “Will do. And sorry about the misunderstanding. Please take my card. Call me anytime if Mr. Haines contacts you or comes back.”

  Bear smiled, took her card, and shyly turned away from her.

  Katie hurried back to her car and didn’t waste time in case there were more misunderstandings with locals with an ax to grind against the cops.

  Quickly maneuvering her vehicle around and away from the cabin, Katie retraced her route and made it back to the freeway. There was still time before the visiting window at the psychiatric ward. She headed toward James Haines’s last known job in the special effects department at the California Studios and Amusement Park.

  Thirty-Three

  Wednesday 0840 hours

  After he got off the phone with Katie and they had confirmed the duties for the day, McGaven decided that he would take a few moments to find out who worked at the First Memorial Hospital before barging in and asking questions. There was always information about any work employees on social media, through team sports, and the hospital roster.

  He didn’t have to search the Internet long. There was a social media page that high
lighted several hospital employees and first responders that had league baseball teams. McGaven looked up at the closed office door and realized that it was extremely quiet. He sighed just to hear a noise.

  At first, hearing about the new cold-case office in the forensic basement, it sounded like the best thing ever, but in reality, it was isolating and lonely. He wasn’t sure if he could work case after case in solitude—even though it was probably just a one-case assignment. At least in the detective division there were other detectives coming and going, phones ringing, and people coming in for interviews and polygraph testing. There was something going on at all times—it made it seem like you were part of a team.

  He looked around the large space, still amazed at how Katie was so at ease and able to put together comprehensive lists and observant deductions from such a difficult case file. Not wanting to admit it to anyone, but the first day they had met, which was under unusual, if not stressful conditions, he liked Katie right away. He may not have shown it, but he respected her tenacity and being able to stand up to people. She was the kind of partner that every police officer hoped for.

  McGaven was able to find out a couple of the nurses’ names, Abigail Sorenson and Lisa Lambert, who both worked on the same floor as Amanda. There was a longstanding security officer by the name of Randy Drake who seemed most likely to have a good overview of all the staff. All of them were on social media, so he decided to memorize some of their interests before leaving.

  As McGaven entered the hospital main entrance and made his way to the elevator, he realized that this was his first official assignment as a detective. He was proud that the sheriff thought enough of his abilities to assign him to the Payton homicide case with Katie.

  The elevator doors closed and it climbed to the next floor. When the doors opened an orderly wheeled a gurney inside with a semi-conscious man on it. Usually people gave him a once-over due to his height, but so many things happen at a hospital that no one cared that there was an armed six-foot-six plain-clothes cop standing next them.

  The doors opened again and the gurney was wheeled out and they disappeared down the hallway. McGaven stepped out and looked in both directions, not quite sure where to go, but he decided to take his time and walk down the hallway, bypassing the nurses’ station.