Little Girls Sleeping: An absolutely gripping crime thriller

by Jennifer Chase

  “Well crap,” she muttered, irritated that she hadn’t been watching where she was going.

  She was lying in a flat spot resembling a nest on the side of the hill. Sitting up, pain radiated from her legs to her lower back. With a few more groans, she managed to stand, wobbly at first before the ground became solid and steady under her feet.

  “Cisco,” she said, sounding more like herself.

  His whines and low, guttural barks continued. Katie estimated from the sound that she had fallen a little more than twenty feet.

  “Cisco, good boy. Stay,” she ordered again.

  She readjusted her pack and her torn clothes then attempted to climb upward, only to slide right back to her original position. There was nothing to grab hold of and no visible footholds. She tried again, several times, but no matter what she did, she ended right back at her starting point. There was one relatively flat area, but she couldn’t get to it on her own. She needed a foothold to steady her weight until she could pull herself up.

  She contemplated her options, but she was exhausted and beginning to feel a panic attack creeping up. More dirt and sand spilled down the cliff, landing on her. This time Katie heard Cisco’s whines and grumbles getting louder, and she realized that he was trying to make his way down to her.

  Twelve

  A team of ten- and eleven-year-old kids were engaged in a group run to warm up before the soccer game. The brightly colored orange-and-blue uniforms buzzed across the field in small groups. The Pine Valley Wildcats were preparing to defend their undefeated title on their own turf. Their opponents, wearing burgundy and white, followed their example and raced across the grass.

  The bleachers were filled to capacity, more than usual for the co-ed game. The parking lot was jam-packed, some cars even parked precariously on the grassy areas, blocking other vehicles. People of all ages had come to watch the spectacle. A photographer was in attendance, taking photos for the local newspaper and website.

  Everyone was excited and focused on the game, which was why no one would notice someone who was more interested in watching children than in the score or which team won.

  There she was, and she was perfect.

  The man had a specific agenda, unknown to anyone. He wasn’t a stranger, but a part of the community. He nodded and smiled to a few people he knew, and no one thought it was strange that he was attending the game. It was a close-knit, supportive community and many of the residents participated in public events and spectator sports.

  His hand moved frequently to his pocket, where he had stashed his wallet. The impulse to pull it out was compulsive and hypnotic. It had been a couple of days since he had opened it. With little regard to anyone who might be watching him, he gave in to the urge and flipped it open. Tucked neatly inside was a piece of yellowish newspaper, the crisp corners still folded perfectly. The smiling face of a young girl stared out at him.

  Clouds moved frequently across the sky, casting shadows over the field. The game had begun and the ball was in play. The energy of both the spectators and the players was high, every person’s focus on the field.

  The man stared a moment longer at the face of the girl in the photo, then carefully folded the article before returning it to its hiding place.

  He focused on the field, where a dark-haired girl was yelling to her teammates to pass the ball. Her intense facial expression made her look older than her eleven years. Her smooth skin, expressive eyes, and obvious determination made her particularly special.

  She had caught the attention of the man more than two weeks ago. His due diligence had forced him to check her background in order to find out if she would indeed be the chosen one to be saved, protected forever from the evils that roamed the world, looking to destroy the innocent. Her name was Dena Matthews, and she lived with her parents and a younger brother, Brady, who would be five years old in four months and six days.

  Dena, I have found you.

  This girl was distinctive and irreplaceable. The man knew it the moment he began studying her family and found out that her parents were on the brink of divorce and two months behind on their mortgage. It was the precise résumé he wanted.

  It was so typical these days—irresponsible, selfish parenting—but that was what made the man’s opportunities so readily available. He had followed both of Dena’s parents to work and found out that her dad had intentions towards another woman, while her mother had difficulties with several of her co-workers, resulting in loud arguments. They were complacent, unhappy, and didn’t realize that their actions had thrust their daughter into a dangerous situation beyond anything they could imagine.

  The man continued to blend into the crowd as he studied Dena and how she handled herself on the field. She was a good player; not great, but her assertiveness and ability to push past the insecurities resulting from her home life made her especially interesting to him.

  He stayed and watched as the home team kept their undefeated record. Celebrations burst out among the parents and other students. As the players left the field, he waited with particular interest to see Dena up close again. She made her way past him, skipping and clapping, and he had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. He knew that it was almost time for the final preparations.

  It was almost time.

  Thirteen

  “Cisco, stay!” Katie yelled. Her mind flashed to all sorts of catastrophes and injuries that the dog could sustain in his eagerness to get to her.

  The dirt and sand kept raining down, covering her clothes and sprinkling onto her head and face. She couldn’t waste any more time.

  She used her hands to dig footholds about hip high, then plunged her feet into the hollows, letting out a sigh when they held her weight. More dirt, now infused with small rocks, tumbled down, slamming against her body. She feared a full-blown dirt avalanche, and being buried alive.

  She raised her hands and moved them around above her head to find a solid section to grip onto. Forced to keep her eyes closed against the dirt, she inched her fingertips side to side and slightly up and down, desperately searching for anything that would be stable enough to support her.

  “C’mon,” she encouraged herself. “C’mon…”

  Her heart raced, pounding in her chest. The tendons and muscles in her ankles and knees tensed with a torturous pain, and her fingers were numb, making it difficult to feel the terrain with any accuracy.

  She heard Cisco bark again.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” she whispered, more to herself than the dog.

  Her phone rang. It seemed surreal under the circumstances, as if she was waiting for the director of the movie to yell, “Cut!”

  “Jeez, can’t really come to the phone right now…” she mumbled, trying to release some of the anxious tension.

  The ringing stopped, and she realized that Cisco had fallen quiet and the crumbling hillside had subsided.

  “Cisco?”

  There was no indication that he was above her anymore. He was trained to get help, but any first-responder assistance was miles away.

  “Cisco?” she said again.

  Determined to get out of her predicament, she managed another foothold a couple of feet above the previous one. She kept working until progress was made, but now she was exhausted to the point of collapse.

  When she next looked up, she could see a paw a couple of feet above her. Cisco barked and began to climb down to her.

  “Stop!”

  The dog dug his front paws downward, causing more dirt to rain down on Katie.

  Racking her brain trying to figure out the best way to get back to the trail, a thought occurred to her. It was a crazy idea that just might work.

  Leaning against the hillside with her cheek pressed to the dirt, she carefully took her right hand away from the cliff and began to untie her hoodie. Once it was free, she grasped the end of a sleeve, arched her arm and swung the sweatshirt upwards. It didn’t make it far and slid back down to her.

 
Breathing heavily, and with dwindling energy, she pitched the hoodie once again. This time it stayed above her.

  “C’mon, Cisco, get it, get it,” she ordered.

  After a few grumbles and whines, the dog managed to lower himself toward the sweatshirt.

  More dirt slithered down the hillside.

  “C’mon, get it,” Katie urged.

  Her burning biceps ignited into an inferno that wouldn’t subside. She tried to adjust her position to relieve the pain.

  That was when she felt it: a tug, light at first, and then harder.

  “Pull!” she yelled, sounding like a banshee in the wilderness. “Pull!”

  Cisco tugged hard in short bursts, jerking her upward. She managed to find a more stable area where she could use her left arm to pull herself up. At one point she lost her footing, kicking and striking the hillside until she saw Cisco’s face. The dog’s teeth held firm to the sweatshirt.

  Katie let out a sigh that was part moan, realizing that she was almost at the top.

  Only a little bit further.

  “Pull!”

  With one final effort, Cisco pulled Katie onto her belly before letting go. She rolled onto her back and he ran to her, dropping down next to her and licking her face in frantic bursts.

  “I’m okay, I’m okay…”

  She lay where she was for a few minutes, gathering her energy. She looked at the sky, which had now become overcast, watching the buzzards fly around her in formation. It made her shudder to think about being a carcass for them.

  Finally she sat up, aware of every scrape, cut, and bruise plaguing her body. Grabbing a water bottle from her backpack that luckily hadn’t burst during her fall, she drank with enthusiasm. It was the best beverage she could ever remember. Turning to Cisco, who was now sitting next to her staring out across the horizon in watch mode, she offered him some of the water. He wasn’t as interested in drinking as she’d thought he would be, but she remembered that in Afghanistan he knew how to ration his water intake when they were on a mission.

  Rolling slightly to her right, she pushed herself upright and stood up. Although she was wavering a bit, she steadied herself and made her way to the trail, Cisco following. With each small step, there was a new pain radiating in her body, but she pushed past the discomfort and kept walking—something that she had become accustomed to both in the army and at the police department.

  The sun had completely disappeared and the air turned cooler with a brisk whipping breeze. Katie realized that she hadn’t had anything substantial to eat for hours and was starving. They kept walking, and finally she saw the beginning of the trails and the area where she had parked her Jeep.

  Her cell phone rang. She had completely forgotten to check who had called her after her fall.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Where have you been?” demanded her uncle with some authority to his voice.

  “I’m not one of your suspects in interrogation,” she replied smartly.

  “Cute.”

  “I’ve been hiking with Cisco. Just needed some quiet time on my day off.” She tried to sound upbeat.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

  Katie just wanted to take a long, hot bath, nurse her wounds, and figure out what to do about the Chelsea case.

  “Um, nothing really,” she replied.

  “Good. Be at my house around 1900 hours; no later than 1930.”

  “Well…” Katie stammered.

  “We’ll see you then. Dress nice. Bye.”

  The call disconnected.

  “Great,” said Katie as she returned the cell phone to her pocket. She had a few hours to get home, shower, and make herself look presentable.

  She opened the driver’s door to the Jeep. Cisco obediently jumped in, circling a few times before making himself comfortable in the passenger’s seat.

  Katie felt defeated as she slung her backpack into the car and took off her holstered gun. She looked around at the vast area one last time and wondered if she would ever find out what had happened to the little girl.

  Where are you, Chelsea?

  Fourteen

  Katie stood in front of her full-length mirror with a white towel wrapped around her body. She carefully dabbed more antibacterial ointment on the scrapes on her arms, sides, and neck, then appraised her appearance. It was as good as it was going to get.

  She decided to wear her hair down and around her shoulders, slightly curled, to hide some of the scratches. The evening lighting should help to disguise them further. However, her muscles had seized up as the afternoon progressed, so that even getting up out of a chair made her groan. It would take a couple of days for her body to heal and get back to normal. In the meantime, she kept moving.

  It took her another fifteen minutes to choose a simple navy dress and lightweight lace jacket. She had lost some weight while she was away, but the dress still fit. Slipping into low- heeled shoes, she was ready to go.

  As she walked to the door, Cisco cut in front of her with eager eyes and a wagging tail.

  “Sorry, Cisco, I’m flying solo on this one.” She leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I won’t be gone long,” she reassured him.

  As she drove to her uncle’s house, her thoughts weren’t on the dinner party, but rather on Chelsea—as usual. She couldn’t seem to think about anything else. She was aware that she didn’t want to become downright obsessed with the case, but it didn’t stop her mulling over all the theories of what might have happened and who was responsible.

  She knew, though, that her time, thoughts, and searching wouldn’t mean anything unless she found a major piece of evidence—or the body.

  She rounded a sharp curve on the familiar winding road and drove a ways further until she came to a driveway with an ornate black wrought-iron gate that was conveniently open. A pretty design of twisted vines and flowers adorned the top of the gateway. The beautiful property was situated on ten sprawling acres: a large Tudor-style home with a Californian architecture influence. As she drove slowly up the long, paved driveway, she saw more than a dozen parked cars and realized too late that it was a welcome-home party for her.

  She definitely wasn’t in the mood, but there was no turning back now.

  A huge banner took up most of the front entrance, with red, white, and blue decorations, including balloons and glittery gold stars, softly swinging in the wind. It stated boldly: Welcome Home Katie. The evening had all the hallmarks of her Aunt Claire’s event-planning skills. She rejoiced in the opportunity to throw parties and make people feel special.

  Katie parked in an available space at the side of the property, then took a deep breath and headed to the open front door, trying to keep a relaxed and positive attitude. Breathing deeply and relaxing her aching neck helped temporarily as she crossed the threshold into the beautiful house.

  “Hello, Katie dear,” said Aunt Claire, taking her arm and squeezing it affectionately. “You look lovely.” She was dressed elegantly in a beige dress and spiked strappy sandals.

  “Thank you,” Katie replied, feeling self-conscious as her aunt proceeded to parade her around the room.

  “Everyone, our beautiful guest of honor has arrived,” Claire announced.

  The other guests proceeded to clap and cheer, and Katie felt her face flush and her pulse race as she greeted them all. Some were people she had never met before; others were old friends or people from the sheriff’s office. To her surprise, she saw Chad standing in the corner drinking beer from a bottle. He had a genuine smile on his face as he watched her.

  Sheriff Scott entered the grand room and moved toward Katie, giving her a hug. “Glad you could make it,” he said in low tone.

  “Did I have a choice?” Katie whispered back.

  “C’mon, I’ll get you some wine and you’ll feel better. Then you can tell me why you have scratches on your arms and cheek,” he said, steering Katie to the beverage area.

  “What?” Katie said with alarm.

&n
bsp; “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. For now.” He laughed and moved back into the crowd to mingle with the guests.

  Katie had always known she couldn’t keep secrets from her uncle. He had been the youngest officer in the county’s history to become a detective, and his solve rates were higher than those of any other officer in the department, a record that still held today. But he hadn’t been content with that; he’d aspired to become sheriff and he didn’t stop until he had achieved that goal.

  No one else commented on her scratches, even if they noticed, and that was fine with Katie. It made her evening that much more enjoyable. A few people asked about her experiences in Afghanistan, but it was on a superficial level, and no one tried to dig at her dark secrets or the horrors of the battlefield.

  It was fun catching up with friends and meeting new people. Katie usually preferred simple gatherings with just a few guests, but tonight she enjoyed the company of a diverse group of friendly faces. Even so, she found herself having to step outside for a moment to decompress and get some fresh air.

  The evening was cool and the temperature relieved the stinging pain from her injuries. The yard was lusher than she had ever seen it before. The ground cover and vines seemed to contain every green on the color wheel, while small white blooms reflected the moonlight, giving the appearance of an enchanted garden.

  She closed her eyes and let the gentle breeze caress her face, followed by the wafting scent of jasmine. She heard laughing voices and multiple conversations in the house behind her. The simple act of breathing deeply automatically released relaxation endorphins, making her calm and focused. It was a technique she used quite often when she had down time after a stressful day in the field.

  When she opened her eyes again, she saw Chad standing a few feet away from her, gazing out at the garden area. She didn’t startle at the sight of him, though she was surprised he had got out there without making any sound. It was as though he had materialized supernaturally.