Cisco watched her every move as she inched toward where the sound originated, across the dusty road.
Slowly at first, and then gaining momentum, the sights and sounds of approaching enemy territory flashed through her mind. Her mouth turned dry. The normal sounds around her had a funny tinny noise. Her pulse raced, pounding in her chest. She was catapulted from the present moment into an earlier time with her entire team behind her, relying on her skills.
She stopped in her tracks.
Blinking several times, she managed to regroup into the present moment. It frightened her that she could recall with such clarity everything that had been around her back then.
She re-evaluated her current situation and realized that she was in a non-hostile place. Her perspective changed, and she inched stealthily toward where the sound had originated.
A slight breeze blew through the trees, carrying the unmistakable aroma of pine. It was a scent that could conjure up past memories of camping and hiking. The branches and leaves made a musical harmony rivaling most orchestras.
She inched closer, and then even closer. When she was about a foot away, a startled juvenile deer popped his head up and then bounded away into the forest.
Lowering her weapon, Katie sighed. She was angry that she’d almost fired off a round at an innocent and harmless animal. Her battlefield-induced stress was worse than she had originally thought.
There was something strange, even a little unsettling, about the area she was now preparing to search. It wasn’t a feeling that was easily described, but there was an unforeseen force or energy that made her jumpy. Being alone wasn’t the issue. Katie had been in all types of situations and found that the solitary ones were usually quite comfortable for her.
She walked back to the Jeep and saw Cisco sitting in the driver’s seat, steaming up the window with his heavy panting and escalating apprehension about the situation.
She glanced at her watch: 11.47 a.m., early enough in the day to consider another area of search. She could still see Jenny’s ghostly face asking for help in last night’s dream; it was almost as if the little girl was shadowing her searches.
The investigation felt like a wild-goose chase, or wishful thinking on her part, but she still didn’t want to give up on it too soon. There just had to be something she could do for Chelsea. But she could only do what she could do. Maybe the little girl’s body would never be found.
As she stood at the car, she almost gave in and drove home. A gust of wind whooshed by her, scattering leaves and dust along the road. She waited for a few more minutes, fighting with her conscience, then she grabbed her pack, called to Cisco, and secured the vehicle before moving out.
She focused on the path to the right. It was wide enough for the Jeep, but the walk would settle her anxious energy and she loved to hear the whispering pines all around her. The wind continued to blow through the area and press against her face.
There were no trails off the path, and it appeared to be a dead end, narrowing a little before reaching a high ridge. It was a lookout, but it didn’t appear to have been used much, with overgrown trees and bushes camouflaging it.
Katie moved closer until she could see the vast area below: mostly treetops, but with sporadic areas of land peeking through. She surveyed ahead and could see rolling hills and valleys. It would be ridiculously impossible to find anything out here. Perhaps it was time to call it a day.
“Well, Cisco,” she said, moving carefully through the overgrown brush.
The dog was nowhere to be seen.
“Cisco!”
Nothing.
Her heart skipped a beat as she began to frantically search around for her dog. “Cisco!” she yelled again.
She heard two barks coming from inside a group of trees.
“Cisco?”
He began barking again and burst through the trees, trotting in large circles, tail wagging.
“What’s up?”
Katie approached the area from where the dog had appeared. The branches formed a tough natural barrier that couldn’t be penetrated. She ran her fingers up and down them, and a broken branch caught her hand. Leaning closer, she saw that there was a small rope that looked as if it marked some type of entrance.
Cisco joined her and whined at her side.
“How did you get in there?” she said, not expecting an answer.
With a little bit of muscle, she pulled a branch up and immediately saw what appeared to be a man-made tunnel. There was no way an animal could have made it—the branches were intricately woven together.
Dropping her backpack to the ground, she searched for her small flashlight. She flipped it on and crept into the tunnel with Cisco close behind. Everything appeared to be sturdy; it wouldn’t cave in, leaving her buried alive underneath the massive branches. It surprised her that the tunnel didn’t have the same pine aroma as the rest of the forest. It indicated that it had been here for some time and any new growth had been trimmed back.
She kept moving forward until she came to a sharp right turn. Hesitating for a moment to get her bearings, she carried on, going from dark to daylight as she emerged onto a narrow landing with a similar view to the one she had just experienced. Carved steps led downward. Anticipation mixed with an eerie intuition made Katie’s legs tremble. Taking the steps one at a time, she descended onto another landing. This one was quite large and stable, and she examined it closely. To the left, there was a small yellow flag affixed to a pole about a foot high.
She gasped, and stopped short.
Part of the landing had clearly been disturbed, the earth fresh as if it had been dug up and laid again. The outline of the area was the perfect shape and size for a grave.
Seventeen
Although military training and police work have made an indelible impact on my life—my own personal defining moments—they still haven’t prepared me for the evil that lurks within the mind of a serial killer.
Katie ran at full speed to her Jeep as a million scenarios ran through her mind—some terrible, some horrendously grisly. What she had found might be nothing, or it might be an actual buried body. Whether it was Chelsea would be determined at a later time, by the medical examiner.
Out of breath and anxious, her hands shaking slightly, she drove as far up the narrow road to the tree tunnel as she could without catapulting off the ledge. Cisco sat next to her, panting heavily in anticipation of what would happen next in the adventure.
Making sure she parked in an area where the ground was solid and no accidental passerby would see her, she exited the Jeep, lowering the windows four inches and leaving the dog behind. If there were any evidence left behind on the route to the grave, she wanted to make sure it wasn’t contaminated. High-pitched whines filled the silence of the forest. Cisco never wanted to be left out of the game.
Opening the Jeep’s back door, she retrieved a crowbar, a small shovel, and her cell phone. Her firearm remained snug in the holster on her side. She was taking nothing for granted, especially in an area that a killer might have used as his secret dumping ground.
As she shut the back door, Cisco was still whining in a desperate plea to join her.
“Sorry, Cisco,” she apologized.
Walking back through the tree tunnel, she retraced her steps exactly. She knew it was highly unlikely that there was anything worth processing, but she treated the scene as if everything mattered. It was difficult to ascertain whether anyone had visited the area recently, though there were moderately visible boot prints layered on top of each other. The person had walked around several times, making the prints impossible to identify.
Katie took out her cell phone and decided to document the area just as she had found it, taking photos in a sweeping motion. She didn’t want to call her uncle until she knew exactly what or who was buried. It might yet be the family dog, or some bizarre garbage ritual.
She took three careful steps and stopped before the outline of the grave. A prickly shudder took hold of
her body as she realized that it was possible the killer had prepared his victim exactly where she stood now. She shook it off. Only one thing mattered.
Using her crowbar, she dug down in a small area until she hit something hard; she guessed it was some sort of box—wooden perhaps. The solid mass appeared to be buried eight inches deep. Rather shallow for a body. Her anticipation began to dwindle.
As she gently brushed away some of the dirt, she saw the box clearly. From the type of stain and the well-finished edges, it looked as if it were hand-crafted. She carefully began to pry away the nails that closed it.
One…
Two…
Three…
They were rather small, like the nails for hanging pictures. There was also a seal around the box, and from what she could see, it was airtight.
Strange.
She continued to pry out the nails, trying not to damage the box, making sure that she documented each step with photos. After about fifteen minutes, they were all out. She kneeled close, pressing her shins against the dirt, and paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she gripped the lip area tightly and slowly raised the lid. There was no squeak or resistance. It came easily, smoothly, until it was finally open wide.
A familiar stench permeated the immediate air around her; a stench that could only be described as death.
It wasn’t just any box; it was a carefully hand-crafted coffin with a silk lining that looked hand-stitched. The contents mesmerized her, so that she couldn’t look at anything else; time slowed down and she forgot that she was sitting on a ledge in a forest. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the cute brown teddy bear with yellowish-brown glass eyes, or the bright-green ribbon that was tied perfectly around his neck.
Anywhere but here, the stuffed animal would represent happiness and safety.
Katie’s eyes grew wider and her mind began to process what she saw. The little girl was clutching the teddy bear tightly. She wore a pretty blue dress, perfectly ironed, hair brushed and smooth, and most of her dead skin was still attached to the bones. The decomposition was still in its early stages, which didn’t make any sense. From Katie’s calculations, the child must have been dead for four years, but she looked as if she had died only a few months ago.
Even though the body had decayed to some extent, it was obvious who the little girl was. Eyes closed, expression relaxed, with a slightly downward-turned mouth, she looked peaceful, like she was sleeping.
Katie flopped back on the ground in a sitting position and let out a breath. She couldn’t believe what she’d found. Barely able to tear her eyes away from the frozen girl’s face, she finally took a photograph to send to her uncle.
As she began to compose a text message, something colorful caught her eye: a piece of yellow ribbon partially buried in the loose dirt next to the casket. She gently picked at the area and realized with horror that there was another box next to the little girl’s coffin. Her curiosity urged her on, and she dug faster until she revealed a second coffin.
She sat back, trying to catch her breath, still staring at the graves.
Glancing at her cell phone screen, she saw that she had a weak signal. She pressed a recall button and waited. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her left hand. She was mad at herself for becoming emotional; she felt slightly unhinged. The gravity of what she had found weighed heavy upon her; she felt the raw emotion of loss and grief but mixed with relief. Together with her own painful memories, it left her exposed and vulnerable. She hated that feeling.
“Hello?” Her uncle answered after the third ring.
“Uncle Wayne?” Katie’s voice was barely audible.
“Katie, what’s wrong?”
“I… I found her. She’s right here.”
“Who? Who did you find?”
“It’s like she’s just sleeping.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Katie looked back at the face in the open casket. “I found Chelsea Compton,” she said.
Eighteen
It took Sheriff Scott two hours to coordinate and dispatch CSI, morgue technicians, deputies, and the medical examiner at the remote crime scene.
Katie waited beside her Jeep, impatiently pacing back and forth. Her mind still spun in circles with how the killer was able to get the coffin into place.
Did he have a partner?
Were there more girls?
Was this just the beginning?
The longer she waited, the more anxious she became; difficulty catching her breath, blurred vision, and an incessant hammering in her chest were just a few of the symptoms that plagued her.
Everything around her was quiet. She was still alone. No birds sang. The wind suddenly dropped. Katie kept remembering the sight of Chelsea’s face. She knew she would see it in her nightmares, and that the eyes would open with a questioning expression, asking her, “Why?”
At last she heard several vehicles in the distance, creeping up the road at a snail’s pace. She walked down to the main roadway and watched them approach. Heavy dust swirled in the air as the four-wheel-drive vehicles made their way in a procession. From her quick assessment, there were three sheriff SUVs, two patrol cars, a forensics van, and a white van from the morgue.
Two forensic technicians were the first to arrive. Their stone faces were difficult to read as she led them to the area where she had found the girls. Once they had deduced what they would need, they returned to their vehicle.
She calmly watched as they secured various areas in the tunnel as well as the final resting spot. They were preparing to document the coffins, which would later be transported to the morgue. One of the technicians took photographs consisting of an overview of the crime scene, a middle-distance shot with a one-hundred-eighty-degree view, and of course close-up pictures to record all the details.
Katie felt nauseated, exhausted, and in desperate need of sleep to banish the horror. In the deep recesses of her mind, she really hadn’t thought she would actually find the body—much less two.
“Katie,” greeted her uncle. He approached her quickly and hugged her tight. “You alright?”
She glanced around. The scene unfolding in the forest looked like a rehearsal of a strange stage play. She sighed. “I will be.”
He turned and began organizing the area, barking orders. “Only the absolutely necessary personnel are to excavate those coffins. Keep everything as is and don’t move or touch anything inside yet.” He turned toward Katie, who was at his heels. “Tell me everything you saw when you got here. What made you pick this area?”
“I mapped some of the more remote locations that hadn’t been searched four years ago. I hiked over toward the northeastern area yesterday,” she explained.
“Okay,” said the sheriff. It was difficult to tell if he was slightly annoyed or full-blown angry.
“I wasn’t going to even come up here today, but then I just wanted to be thorough.”
“How convenient,” said Detective Templeton as he approached. “Are you sure you didn’t receive information from some other means?”
Katie’s anger rose up; she gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to scream at him. There had been several instances where she had been challenged by those in charge, and it felt to her like someone had just lit that familiar fuse. “Excuse me?” she said. “I actually took the time and read over your report, which was quite frankly unprofessionally incomplete. Unlike you, I didn’t dismiss the idea that Chelsea was possibly dumped or buried somewhere in the local area, and what do you know, I found her. Tell me again, what have you done for this case?”
The detective moved close to her as if accepting her challenge. “I don’t believe in coincidences, or even luck for that matter. You should be a person of interest in this case and—”
“Enough,” barked the sheriff. “They’re beginning to exhume the coffins, so why don’t you take notes and make sure they don’t inadvertently contaminate any evidence.”
&nbs
p; Templeton hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more, but then turned and followed the police crew to the gravesite.
“Making friends, I see,” said Uncle Wayne with a faint smile. “Katie, I know exactly how tenacious and driven you are, but let’s just lighten up and get through this. Okay?”
Katie let out a breath, feeling her nerves and ruffled feathers calm down. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
“It’s going to take a while to get those coffins excavated, so why don’t you just take a break,” he said, showing his caring uncle side.
“Okay. But…” She hesitated. “I think I know the identity of the other body.”
“What makes you say that?” He eyed her closely.
“I did a bit of searching for any missing girls with similarities to Chelsea’s disappearance, and I think it’s quite possible that it’s Tammie Myers.”
“Okay. I’m going to need the entire story of how your search got you here. Understand?”
“Of course.”
“Go take a break now,” he said. It wasn’t a request, but an order.
As her uncle followed Templeton to the gravesite, Katie decided to walk Cisco down the road to clear her head and give the dog a break. She opened the driver’s door and ordered, “Come, Cisco.” He obeyed and trotted alongside her.
The entire area appeared completely different now with all the emergency vehicles parked haphazardly. The familiar static sounds of police radios rose at varying levels, and everyone hustled to their duties. A few of the deputies glanced at Katie with quizzical expressions, as if to say, “How did you find her?” and “What made you pick this exact place?” She assumed that several of them had been involved in the initial search for Chelsea; they must have found it strange that it was an outsider who’d discovered the dumping ground. Hearing Templeton’s accusations wouldn’t have helped any. She knew there would be idle gossip around the department by tomorrow.
Little Girls Sleeping: An absolutely gripping crime thriller Page 9