“Family.”
Katie knew that he had been estranged from his family for quite some time. “Go on.”
“I have a brother, Jimmy, and well, I’ve lost touch with him. And it seems that no one knows where he is.”
“He moved away?” she asked.
“No, he just moved out of his apartment of ten years and never went back to work. See, he loved that job, so it just doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. But he was living in California, near here.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him?”
“I hate to admit it, but it was about six years ago.”
“Oh,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
“We had an argument, it is stupid now, and then time passed, and I didn’t know what to say… hardheaded and embarrassed… I guess…”
“It’s okay. You want me to look into it?”
He sat quiet for a moment. And then, “Yeah, I would. I know it’s hectic for you now, investigating a homicide, but after the explosion I just realized that life is short, that time is precious—you know? It hit me hard.”
“I know. Look, I’m going to be swamped for the next several days, but, leave me all the information and a photo if you have it, and I’ll see what I can do…” she said.
“Scotty, I knew I could count on you,” he said, taking her hand and gently squeezing it.
It made Katie feel good that he would trust her enough with something this important. She loved him. Nick was family and she would do anything for him.
Twenty-Six
Tuesday 0835 hours
Katie had a difficult time finding a parking place at the sheriff’s department. There were more cars parked than usual, but she managed to squeeze her Jeep in the last place farthest away. Jumping out, she ran across the lot to meet McGaven. She was already more than fifteen minutes late. With the unexpected visit from her sergeant last night, she barely got four hours of sleep and almost slept through her alarm.
She and Nick had talked for almost another hour as they waited for a friend of his, Bobby, to pick him up. He was going to stay with him for a while in Bramble, a town just on the outskirts of Pine Valley, waiting until Katie got in touch with news of his brother’s whereabouts.
Her boot heels clipped the pavement as she hurried toward the county morgue. She didn’t have much time to prepare her questions, but it was mostly regarding a preliminary report to see if they had some type of indication or new evidence. McGaven waited patiently near the entrance, glancing at his watch as she ran around the corner and practically knocked him down.
“Where’s the fire?” said McGaven partly smiling. “I’ve never seen you like this—basically late. You okay?”
Catching her breath, she finally said, “It isn’t pretty, is it?”
“It’s not about pretty. What’s going on with you?”
“Sorry I’m late.” She was still panting. “I had an old friend show up at my house last night and I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Oh, I get it,” he said sarcastically. “Good for you.”
“Do you ever think about anything else?”
“I thought you already had a boyfriend,” he said. “Do tell.”
“You know, McGaven…” she said, exasperated.
He smiled.
“Never mind. It’s not important now.” She straightened her jacket and checked her briefcase, trying to not look like she was rushed. “Let’s go.” They went inside the building.
Katie put her briefcase down on the floor, leaning it against the wall outside the examination room before entering. She hadn’t seen Dr. Dean in a while and wondered if he still dressed like he was ready to board a cruise ship. She remembered the first time she met him during the autopsy of little Chelsea Compton: His unusual casualness of vacation attire followed by his directness made him an interesting medical examiner. He always took Katie’s questions seriously as she learned her way around the process.
“My favorite detectives,” said Dr. Dean, almost in a musical tone. “Good to see you back officially as a detective, Ms. Scott—rather, Detective Scott.” He winked at her and then moved toward the last exam table where the sheet had been pulled all the way back.
“Thank you.” She smiled, never knowing whether to call him Jeff, doctor, or Dr. Dean. “Your email said for us to come and see you.”
“Yes, isn’t it more fun this way?” he said.
Katie didn’t know exactly how to respond to that and she glanced to McGaven who had a confused expression as well.
“Well, I don’t know about fun,” she said.
Dr. Dean looked up from the report and said, “Oh, no. I think you misunderstood my meaning. It’s nice to speak with the investigating officers in person. My staff is rather introverted, not a lot of conversation around here. And the only other people I see are the grieving family members. Not a fun group. So it’s nice to have a conversation.”
“We understand,” said Katie forcing a smile, still feeling the rushed adrenalin after running from her car.
“Okay then. Amanda Payton, thirty-one, good health, has several old minor bruises and abrasions, and also has fresh defensive wounds,” the medical examiner began as he lifted her left forearm to illustrate. “Cause and manner of death: Asphyxiation by strangulation, which I’m deeming a homicide, of course. Estimated time of death I put at around 2 a.m. Thursday, give or take a half hour.”
“Anything unusual? There was what looked like fibers under her nails,” Katie explained.
The doctor continued reading. “Oh yes, we did a full combing of her hair and scraping under her nails, which we sent to be tested.”
McGaven decided to speak up. “Do you see a lot of strangulation cases?”
Dr. Dean thought a moment, nodding as he replied, “Unfortunately, yes I do. Not all are declared homicides, some are suicides, and a few accidents from autoerotic behavior.”
Katie did her best to look at Amanda’s corpse directly—recalling sitting in her living room just days ago. The thought made her swallow hard. This part was never going to be easy so she had better learn to let certain things go.
Suck it up, Detective Scott.
The medical examiner continued, “However, there are a couple of things that might interest you.”
That statement caught Katie’s immediate attention. “Such as?”
“Would you say Ms. Payton was wealthy or had a rich boyfriend?”
Katie wasn’t sure how to answer that, but nothing directed her to believe that Amanda was wealthy. “No, unless she had some great investments somewhere.”
“The reason why I’m saying this is because of the contents of her stomach.”
Both Katie and McGaven hung on every word.
“I’ve been doing this job for twenty-four years and I’ve seen a lot of stomach contents,” he said. “Ms. Payton had, what I would say, the palate of a rich person.”
“Like? Heavy French sauces and braised truffles?” chimed McGaven.
“Close,” he said. “Her last meal, which I would estimate was no more than two hours before she was killed, consisted of escargot, some type of veal with saffron, and chocolate dessert.”
“Okay,” Katie said.
“And where in town can you order that?” McGaven countered.
“I can’t think of any right off hand. You’d have to go to another town or all the way to a larger city like Sacramento,” Katie said, still trying to figure out where she ate that meal. “Unless she ate at a private residence?”
“Sounds plausible,” stated the medical examiner. He moved closer to Amanda, rolled her torso slightly to the right. “We’ve taken photos of this wound on her side and I’ve sent it to John to see what they could come up with, but preliminary examination,” he said, “appears to be an imprint from a car door.”
Katie joined him and turned her head slightly, trying to wrap her own brain around the assessment. “Oh, I see, it’s the end of the interior part of the car door.
” Squinting her eyes a bit, she said, “You can see the distinct outline. It seems like possibly a smaller car and not an SUV.” Katie looked up and refocused her eyes and then examined the imprint on the skin again. “Aren’t most car doors taller? This seems too low.”
“Expensive dinner and ride in a sports car,” the doctor said. “You have your work cut out for you, Detective.”
“Has the toxicology report come back?” asked Katie.
“Let me see,” he said and flipped through a file. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“There were traces of fluoxetine and sertraline. Nothing serious. They are anxiety and depression drugs that can be prescribed by any doctor.”
“You mean like Prozac?” she said, remembering the prescription bottles on the end table at Emily Day’s apartment.
“Yes, Prozac and Zoloft, to be exact. Quite common.”
“Thank you, Dr. Dean,” Katie said.
“Jeff,” he reminded.
“Yes of course, Jeff, thank you.”
Katie and McGaven left the exam room, and she retrieved her briefcase, still reeling over the new information about Amanda Payton’s last hours alive.
Twenty-Seven
Tuesday 0935 hours
“So you’re still not going to tell me what happened last night,” said McGaven with a huge Cheshire cat grin.
Katie had just ended the call with Emily Day and was still thinking about that imprint on Amanda’s back and side as she drove towards Emily’s house.
“Hello? Earth to Detective Scott?” he said.
“I’m not talking to you until you drop the whole ‘last night’ thing.”
“Fine.” He gave a dramatic sigh, still smiling.
Katie eased the unmarked patrol sedan into a parking place in front of the apartments where Amanda had been staying with her friend Emily Day. She cut the engine and retrieved the key. The air conditioning stopped, leaving the interior almost immediately stuffy and confining.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Looking at the landscaping and black wrought-iron fencing, McGaven said, “Nice place.”
“This was the only time I could get to talk to Emily away from work.”
Both detectives left the vehicle parked on the street and entered through the garden to ascend the stairs to apartment #10.
Katie knocked on the door. They waited only a minute before it opened and a tall blonde stared at them. Her long hair slightly curled around her shoulders and she was dressed in casual yoga clothes.
“Emily Day?” asked Katie.
“Yes,” she replied, her blue eyes wide with amazement that two police officers stood at the door.
“I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven. We spoke on the phone. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“Please come in.”
The detectives entered the small apartment. Everything looked the same as before, but Katie noted that the blanket was missing from the couch as well as the prescription bottles from the end table. Overall, the apartment was tidy and smelled of a flowery air freshener.
“I don’t know what I can help you with, but please ask away.”
Katie made herself comfortable on the couch; Emily sat in the chair across from her, while McGaven casually wandered around the living room.
Katie flipped open her small notebook and then focused on Emily. The woman appeared nervous. She kept rubbing her hands together and then wiping them down her thighs.
“Ms. Day, we’re trying to retrace Amanda’s last hours. Are you feeling up to it?”
Emily kept her focus on Katie and nodded.
“Amanda’s body was found early Thursday morning at Whispering Pines, and the medical examiner puts her time of death at 2 a.m.”
Emily looked confused. “She was here.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was here on Wednesday night—well, she was here every night. I know because I was working at the hospital from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m.”
Katie made a note just to double-check her story.
“She must’ve left, or maybe someone came by to visit.”
Still shaking her head, Emily said, “No. No way. Amanda was terrified to go out at night. She would have never left.”
“When was the last time you spoke with her?” This was the first time Katie had seen some emotion from Emily. Her voice cracked as she held back the tears.
“It was on my dinner break around 10.30 p.m. on Wednesday. She sounded fine and said that she was going to go to bed early and that I would see her in the morning. When I came home after my shift, I saw she wasn’t sleeping on the couch, but I assumed that she had gone running. That was the only time she would ever leave the house, either to go running or to the grocery store.”
“You’re sure about that time?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“Did you call her cell phone?”
“Amanda didn’t have a cell phone. She got rid of hers after the… incident.”
“I see. Did you notice anything different about Amanda?”
“No, she was scared but she seemed like everything was the same.”
“Who else did Amanda talk to?”
“I… I really don’t know,” she said and looked away.
“Emily, if you know something you have to tell us.”
“I don’t know…”
Katie sensed her dishonesty, but she wasn’t going to push. “Was she dating anyone or interested in anyone? It didn’t have to be a formal date, but someone else she talked to.”
Emily remained quiet. It was obvious that she was struggling with something. “I think she might have been talking to someone. I don’t know who it was, but I got the feeling that it was someone from the hospital.”
“What makes you say that?”
“She made a reference about doctors. That’s all I know.” Emily stood up now, clearly distraught. “Amanda was my best friend and I can’t even help in her investigation…” She began to cry and pace back and forth.
Katie paused. “It’s okay, Emily. We’re done for now. But, if you remember anything, even if it doesn’t seem important, call me, okay? Emily, okay?”
She nodded as she tried hard not to cry anymore.
The detectives walked to the door.
“Oh, one more question,” said Katie.
Emily waited. “Yes?”
“Did Amanda cook dinner here on Wednesday night? Something fancy? A roast?”
Emily looked confused. “No, she was mostly vegetarian and only sometimes ate meat.”
“Okay, thank you.”
They left the apartment.
Katie waited until she heard the door close before she turned to McGaven. “Check the phone records to check her story. I think she’s telling the truth, but I want to make sure she isn’t covering for someone.”
“Will do. Sounds like I have some desk time,” he said.
“Emily Day isn’t off the radar yet.”
When they reached the car Katie pulled out her cell phone and dialed as McGaven climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hello,” said Denise, sounding chipper as usual.
“Hi, it’s me. You busy?”
“Always, but never for some real investigative work.”
“Good,” she laughed. “I have something for you to check out, basically some background stuff—hope I’m not piling on too much.”
“Not at all—go ahead.”
“First, this is unrelated to the homicide case we’re working on. Is that okay?”
“I’m intrigued.”
“It’s a missing person case for a very special friend of mine. I promised that I would check it out. It’s probably going to be an easy case where we find out he’s at a new job or residence.”
“No problem, Katie. I’ve got your back, no need to explain.”
Katie almost let out a loud sigh of relief. “Okay, the name is James Samuel Haines. That’s spelled H a i n e s.”
“Got
it.”
“His brother is Army Sergeant Nick Haines. And… Wait, I need to get the rest of the info from my briefcase. Can you hang on or do you want me to call you back?”
“I’ll hang on… I’m running reports, so no problem.”
Katie quickly opened the vehicle and pulled out her briefcase, setting it on the hood. She had slid out several files and her notebook, when a white piece of paper dropped to the ground.
Staring at the familiar fold of paper, she slowly said, “Denise, I’m going to have to call you back. I’ll text you all the information I have.”
“Katie? Everything okay?”
She picked up the piece of paper, carefully holding to the edges. “I’m fine,” she managed to say.
“Katie?” Denise said again.
“I’ll call you later,” she said slowly and ended the call.
Unfolding the paper, which was written in the same cursive blue handwriting, she read:
Don’t spend too much time there.
“What? What is that?” said McGaven.
Katie instinctively looked around the car for anyone suspicious or watching her. There was no doubt someone was tailing her, shadowing her, and watching her moves before they left this note.
McGaven was at her side. “Another one?”
Her cell phone chimed with a text message from John. The sound made her twitch, adding to the uneasiness she already felt.
Linkage between Payton and Jane Doe cases—tan carpet fibers match 87%.
Twenty-Eight
Tuesday 1145 hours
The smell of diesel and exhaust fumes filled her senses and Tess woke with a dry cough, the stinging pain from her wrists and ankles a devastating reminder of where she was and everything that had happened to her.
She turned her head slightly from side to side, the tape over her eyes tugging on her hair and the skin near her ears. There it was again, the familiar smell she had recognized before—jasmine. Sweet and pungent. It was lighter than before, so she knew that the person who had been in the room with her was now gone.
Her Last Whisper: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Katie Scott Book 2) Page 12
