“Thanks, we’ll make sure we search that area thoroughly once the fire is out.”
“Okay,” Katie said, and turned to walk away.
“Katie,” he called after her.
“Yes?” She turned.
“I mean it. I’m glad you’re okay.” He turned away to meet up with his team.
Katie approached Deputy Sanders. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll take you through everything after we got out of the car.”
Thirty-Five
“I want to talk to everyone about what’s been happening,” began Sheriff Scott. He looked solemn as he addressed the department staff. “Not only do we have a potential serial killer on the loose, but we, as police officers, have been targeted. It’s nothing new, but now it has finally hit home.”
“It seems to be one person in particular being targeted,” said Templeton.
The sheriff glanced at the detective. “Ask Deputy McGaven about that.” He turned back to the group. “Let me make this crystal clear in case some of you don’t understand. When one officer is targeted, it means we are all targets.” He paused and looked around the room, catching every eye.
Katie sat quietly next to McGaven. She wanted to stand up and yell at Templeton, but she kept her opinions to herself. She was concerned not only for her own safety, but for that of the entire department. There was someone out there willing to kill police officers because of this case. The suspect pool was still too large to focus on anyone yet. It was overwhelming on so many levels.
“I want every officer, whether on patrol or on an investigation, to be extra cautious and stay in frequent contact with dispatch. I’ve decided to double up deputies on patrol for certain beat areas that are more isolated than others. Be sure to check with your sergeants to find out your arrangements. I will also have one or two K9 units on each shift,” the sheriff explained.
One of the deputies asked, “What’s the status of the car bomb?”
“We were able to gather a significant amount of evidence that gives the perpetrator’s signature. The sheriff’s office is working with ATF and Homeland Security. There is no evidence at this point that the bombing is connected to the Compton and Myers homicides. However, that status may change at any time.”
Katie thought differently, but it was true that there was no evidence connecting the two crimes yet. She glanced at McGaven, who appeared to have the same opinion. He looked away from the sheriff and shifted his body uncomfortably.
The watch commander entered the briefing room and walked up to Sheriff Scott, leaning in and whispering something to him that the rest of the room wasn’t privy to.
“Everyone get out on patrol except Templeton, Scott and McGaven,” the sheriff ordered.
The staff hurried to their duties. Low voices chattered as they left the building.
Katie waited for whatever her uncle was going to share, but she knew it wasn’t good news.
The sheriff spoke in a quieter tone than he had been, “A little girl went missing yesterday. Dena Matthews; she was on her way to school. No one saw anything.”
Katie’s blood ran cold as her breath caught in her throat.
He continued, “I’ve just received word that they’ve found a young girl’s body on Back County Road. There hasn’t been an official identification yet and there’s no other information at this time. Just that the girl was on top of the ground in a grove area. I would suggest that you get out there to assist immediately.”
Katie and McGaven turned to leave.
“Report back to me,” the sheriff ordered.
Everyone nodded their understanding and left the building.
* * *
There wasn’t another available unmarked police car, so Katie was forced to use a black SUV that had been confiscated from a drug operation. It would be going up for auction, so she would only be borrowing it temporarily. It wasn’t furnished with the usual police equipment; her cell phone would have to suffice for now. With McGaven in the passenger seat next to her, she drove away from the sheriff’s department as fast as she could, hoping to arrive ahead of Templeton and his team.
“What are you thinking?” asked McGaven, looking at Katie pointedly. “Do you think this little girl is connected to the others?”
She frowned. “Don’t know yet. But my gut tells me there’s possible linkage.”
She pressed the accelerator harder and the big engine responded. She was surprised by the vehicle’s easy handling. There was barely twenty thousand miles on the odometer, and she caught a hint of new-car smell from the interior.
McGaven remained quiet, eyes fixed on the road. His attitude had done a one-eighty since the first time he and Katie had rolled out together. He was definitely on track with the investigation and he had Katie’s back no matter what they found themselves in the middle of.
The SUV sped down a long road that seemed to split from the freeway. Katie slowed the vehicle and looked for an indication that they were going the right way. They crossed a one-lane country bridge, tires hitting the boards with a strumming sound, and straight away she saw the sign indicating that they were on Back Country Road.
“Here we go,” she said.
First-responder vehicles were parked precariously along the roadway with a set of rolling police lights. Traffic was minimal on the road. Katie decided to drive by first and select the best place to park. As she did so, she saw the crew gathered around what appeared to be a body. It was as if it were a silent vigil rather than a homicide.
She didn’t realize that she had sucked in a breath until she exhaled loudly. Even though the scene was drastically different from the previous gravesite, she still suspected that the same person had committed all three crimes. She hated jumping to conclusions, but her intuition told her that the body was the missing girl. It was now looking as if a serial killer was stalking the town’s children.
Giving the emergency vehicles some space, she parked a little ways from the crime scene, noting that the CSI van was already at the location. Then she and McGaven exited the SUV and headed to the area of interest.
The air was extremely cool in the shroud of dense trees. It was a place where the sun rarely penetrated, leaving the surrounding area smelling of moss and wet earth. Katie couldn’t detect any unusual sounds, or even the familiar birds that usually nested in the area.
She stepped to the side to allow the CSI technicians space to perform documentation. Jamie and Don worked seamlessly, as one located the evidence and the other photographed it. For now, the evidence and the body were to remain undisturbed until the investigating detectives had a chance to view everything in place. Generally, one detective identified what they saw and another wrote it down, then they would change roles. Katie knew that Templeton wasn’t going to involve her, but that was okay. She would train McGaven in the procedure.
The CSI team retreated, allowing the detectives to move in with the least amount of cross-contamination possible.
McGaven moved forward, but Katie caught his sleeve. “Let them investigate first,” she whispered. She meant Templeton’s team. “It’s okay. Once they’re gone, it’ll be easier for us without it getting combative and disruptive.”
McGaven nodded, but he was restless, having difficulty standing still.
Katie decided to take a longer-range view of the crime scene as she waited. She moved deeper into the forest, followed by a curious McGaven. She wanted to evaluate the scene with her senses first. It was a technique she had used in the field during her searches with Cisco. Honing her hearing and sense of smell gave her valuable survival skills, and made her more in tune with the surroundings.
She closed her eyes. At first she heard the conversations from the CSI team, and Templeton’s distinctive voice. Taking deep, even breaths, she began to relax and become intertwined in the moment, and the voices grew distant, becoming a nonsensical buzz.
When they’d arrived, she had thought there was no wind, but now she could hear a slight breeze moving through the trees
, cooling the area a degree or two. It was a place of almost complete solitude.
Interesting choice of location.
It occurred to Katie that the location had been picked by someone who knew the area well—just as with the gravesite. The perpetrator wouldn’t be easily seen, but the body would be found quickly. It confirmed the reason for this exact location.
Why on top of the ground instead of buried in a coffin?
“Do you think the killer needed to dispose of the body quickly and didn’t have time to make a coffin?” asked McGaven, as if he had heard Katie’s thoughts.
“No,” she said. “He’s toying with us. Letting us know that he’s in charge by changing up his M.O. He’s trying to run us around.”
“How do you know?”
“By the location and timing. He wants to keep us concentrating on the latest murder and not the previous ones,” she explained.
McGaven didn’t say anything, but it was clear that he was pondering everything she told him, and perhaps adding a few opinions of his own.
As Katie walked a little distance into the trees, she discovered a small dirt-and-gravel parking lot for hikers. It wasn’t large, but it would accommodate three to four cars. She turned and walked slowly back toward the crime scene, careful to notice anything out of the ordinary that the killer might have dropped.
“Wait,” she announced, looking down. She put out her right arm to stop McGaven from going any further. “Hey, I’ve found something over here!” she yelled.
Everyone looked in her direction.
Katie saw Blackburn approaching carrying official evidence bags, both plastic and paper.
“Over there,” she said. “It looks like a kitchen towel, and I don’t think it’s been there long.”
Blackburn quickly took a photograph of the location, and then a close-up, before gathering the evidence. Turning back to his team, he ordered, “Jamie, search this area. Let’s give it an extra circumference, double it up.” He smiled and nodded at Katie.
Katie returned to where the body was.
“So what do you think, Detective Scott?” asked Templeton. There was a hiss in his words.
“Specifically?” she countered.
“What do you see?” he inquired with mild interest.
Katie kneeled down and took her first proper look at the body. She had been purposely avoiding it because she wanted her objectivity to be untainted and to have a clear initial impression.
The little girl was lying on her back, clothed in a green-and-blue spring dress, perfectly washed and ironed. There was no immediate indication of trauma to the body. No blood, bruising, or visible injuries. Her long chestnut-colored hair was braided and lay evenly past her shoulders, tied with a yellow ribbon. The bow loops were almost identical in length. Her arms were wrapped around a brown teddy bear with a thicker yellow ribbon tied neatly around its neck. It was difficult to tell at first glance that the child was indeed dead—she could’ve been sleeping.
“Well?” asked Templeton.
“The posing, taking great care with appearance and clothes, appears to be the signature of the killer.”
“Anything else?”
“He also took meticulous care to pose her at this precise location. He knew she would be found quickly. He’s toying with us. Showing us that he’s the one in charge, and that we shouldn’t try to profile him because he can change his behavior and signature at any time.” Katie paused. “Also… did you notice…”
“What?” replied the detective.
“This little girl isn’t Dena Matthews. Wrong hair color, and this girl is a couple of years older.”
The detective raised his eyebrows and nodded. For once, he had shut his mouth and listened to what Katie was saying. “We won’t know how she died without an autopsy or unless there’s any trace evidence,” he said.
“Most likely she was smothered.” Katie leaned in close to the child’s face and breathed deeply. “There’s a light, sweet stench, and saliva dried around her mouth. That dish rag back there probably held some type of chloroform to render her unconscious. The killer then placed her the way he wanted and carefully smothered her by pinching her nose and mouth closed. It would leave the least amount of evidence behind,” she explained, and stood up.
No one spoke. The only sound was the wind whipping through the pine trees.
Katie began to walk away. McGaven hesitated and then prepared to follow her back to the car.
“Detective Scott,” Templeton said.
Katie turned to face him, ready for some type of attack or insult.
“I’m not completely convinced this is the work of the same killer,” he said.
“That’s your opinion,” she replied. “It’s really down to what the evidence tell us.”
“Why do you think he didn’t have her in a coffin?”
“He’s pissed off we found his private graveyard. He’s going to do whatever it takes to fulfill his fantasy of his perfect little girls… and to make us pay.”
“He’s not going to stop, is he?”
Katie looked at the detective for a couple of moments. Something was different about him; his demeanor appeared defeated. His shoulders were rounded and it looked as if he had aged since they had arrived at the crime scene.
The van from the morgue arrived and parked.
She took a breath. “No, this killer, the Toymaker, isn’t going to stop until we find him,” she said softly.
Her words hung in the air.
She continued to walk to the black SUV.
“Is that it?” asked McGaven. He sounded disappointed.
“For now. There’s nothing more we can do here until everything is transported to the morgue and forensics.” She looked at the deputy. “I think it’s time to go over everything we have so far.”
He nodded. He seemed to still be processing the crime scene in his mind.
“I have everything organized at my house,” she said. “Some things are beginning to make more sense.”
Thirty-Six
Katie eased the borrowed black SUV into her driveway and cut the engine. It was twilight and the sun was almost hidden behind the trees, giving a Halloween glow.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I know my uncle wants me watched at all times, but there’s nothing to worry about. Really,” she stressed.
“I know,” said McGaven. “I just wanted to visit with Cisco.” He smiled. “Oh, and take a look at your secret office.”
“You like him?” she said.
“Of course. I assume you’re talking about Cisco.” He hesitated. “I’ve put in for K9. I heard that one of the guys is going to retire soon, and I’ve always wanted to work with the unit.”
“Really?” she said, smiling. “Didn’t see that one coming.”
“And you call yourself a detective?” McGaven laughed. The slight creasing around his eyes showed his sincerity.
Katie opened the driver’s door and jumped out of the vehicle. McGaven followed, and they both walked toward the house and climbed the steps to the porch.
At the front door, Katie stopped suddenly and froze.
“What? What’s wrong?” McGaven asked, his posture stiffened.
She took a step away from the door, pressing her back against the siding of the house. She didn’t say anything, just nodded toward the handle.
McGaven immediately saw what she meant: the lock and doorknob were broken and the door was slightly ajar.
Katie’s heart dropped. “Cisco,” she whispered. The dog should have been barking or at the window to greet her. Instead there was just a deafening silence she couldn’t let her mind run away with. She fought back the tears and prepared for the worst as she retrieved her weapon.
McGaven followed suit. “We need to call for backup,” he urged in a quiet voice.
Katie shook her head adamantly. “I’m going in now.” Something was terribly wrong and she wasn’t going to hang around for police cars and wailing sirens. If Cisco needed help,
she wouldn’t wait another second.
McGaven gave her the stare—it was a police officer gaze that meant “I have your back, no matter what.”
Katie nodded and took the point position. She decided not to go in yelling with guns blazing. Instead, she gently pushed the door. It opened slowly without a sound.
The living room had been turned upside down. Sofa cushions were torn open, with stuffing scattered around the room. Two lamps and some of her knickknacks were shattered into pieces on the floor. Black spray paint marred the walls, covering some of her artwork in long sweeps.
Katie’s first thought was vandals or kids, but there was a more devious element to the trashing of her house. It wasn’t by chance; the term coincidence wasn’t in any soldier’s or police officer’s vocabulary. Everything had a reason and nothing was happenstance.
They moved cautiously through the living room and into the kitchen in a two-man formation. Katie led, gun targeted in front of her as she cleared areas to the right and McGaven cleared areas to the left just a couple of steps behind her.
She stopped for a moment, straining to hear anything unusual—anything at all. An unnerving quiet greeted her, but she knew it could turn chaotic in an instant. Both of them waited another few seconds before moving on.
Two of the kitchen’s cabinet doors were open, but nothing was tossed or broken. Everything on the counter, including the dishes in the sink, had been left untouched.
Katie eased into the hallway. McGaven worked the rooms on the left and she took the right. Everything was as she had left it. When she came to her old bedroom—her investigation room—she stopped. Her head became light, hands clammy, and she couldn’t speak.
McGaven must have sensed the change, because he quickly moved next to her and stopped.
The warning read: YOU WILL NEVER FIND ME, in the same black spray paint as in the living room. The words were scrawled across parts of her organized investigation but didn’t completely obliterate the lists. The large angular lettering suggested a disturbed individual rather than kids or vandalism. It was personal. It was definite. And it was going to change everything.
Little Girls Sleeping: An absolutely gripping crime thriller Page 18