“Have you…?” He trailed off.
“Have I what?”
“Have you ever thought about seeing someone—just to get some things straight and having someone to talk to on your terms? An unbiased person.”
“No—well yes, I have, but I’m fine the way things are right now.”
“You know, your dad and I used to try and scare each other as kids,” he said, recalling a fond memory.
“Dad never told me about that,” she said.
“Well one time I went too far and I had him believing that I was going to die. Stupid kid stuff and without any thought, just thinking it would be funny getting something over on my big brother. I guess I was pretty convincing.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“When I saw how scared he was at the thought of me dying, we made a pact that we would always be there for each other. We were less than two years apart, but we had a bond like we were twins. So from then on whenever either of us had a difficult decision or something serious was bothering us—we were there for each other.”
Listening to her uncle talk about her dad as she slowly ate made Katie sad but at the same time she loved to hear stories. It made it seem as if he was still here—in the room with them. She missed him dearly every single day. Her parents were killed in a car accident when they were coming home from vacation from the coast. It stung deep every time she thought about it. They never got to see her graduate from college or the police academy. There were many times that she needed her mom to talk to and those opportunities were now lost.
“Katie?” he asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking.”
“I know, I think about them a lot too,” he said as if he had heard her thoughts. “So you have to understand why I take it so personally and why I’m protective of you. I don’t want every case of yours be a life or death incident like the Chelsea Compton case.”
“I know.”
“Just do me a favor. Don’t take on too much. Don’t think I don’t know about your army sergeant visiting you.”
“He’s staying with a friend in Watkins and he’s doing fine—in case you wanted to know. I’m helping him find his brother—that’s the only family he has.”
“You can’t help everyone,” he said.
“No, but I can help family. Nick is like a brother to me.”
The sheriff hesitated as he understood her point. “Just be careful with your workload.”
“Wow, am I under a twenty-four hour watch now?” she said playfully.
“I mean it, Katie.”
“I know. Even though my parents are gone, I’m still the luckiest girl in the world to have you,” she said, and squeezed his arm.
Thirty-Nine
Wednesday 2330 hours
“Hello?” answered a very sleepy voice.
“Hey, McGaven, you weren’t in bed, were you?” said Katie. She couldn’t fall asleep right away still thinking about the case and her uncle’s visit.
“Katie?”
“You sound surprised. Sorry it’s so late. Got home a while ago and my uncle was here. I’ve found out some stuff. It’s been interesting to say the least.”
“Some of us do have lives, you know.”
“I have so much to tell you, but that can wait until the morning. I’ve been thinking…” she began.
“Oh no, here it comes,” he said, sounding more like his usual chipper self.
Katie adjusted her cell phone’s speaker. “So I want you to pull up everything about Dr. Kenneth Jamison that you can find—everything. Get anything from Denise that she has from social media.”
“Couldn’t you have waited until morning to ask me to do that?” he said. There was a soft giggle in the background.
“Oh.” Katie realized that he wasn’t alone. “Sorry, you’re with your girlfriend. Please apologize to her. Hopefully, she won’t hate me too much before I get a chance to meet her.”
McGaven laughed. “She knows all about you and she still wants to meet you.”
“I guess it can wait until tomorrow,” she said slowly.
“Go ahead, finish your thought—otherwise it will bug the crap out of you.”
“Well, you seem to have more to share with me from today.”
“Don’t change the focus to me. What do you have?”
“Jane Doe has been put on lockdown—no visitors—and there’s no indication of when she will have them.”
“Interesting.”
“I’m worried for her safety. She must be terrified. I don’t want—”
“Don’t psyche yourself out thinking that what happened to Amanda will happen to Jane Doe.”
“I guess things can wait until tomorrow.”
“Well, I’ve found video footage of Amanda getting into a high-end car with an unknown man.”
“What? Are you kidding? What time?”
“A little bit after 11 p.m. the night before she was found at Whispering Pines. You can’t identify the man or even get a good description of him; the video is too far away and very low resolution. It’s beginning to look like Amanda hadn’t been entirely truthful.”
“Could still be a doctor?” she said.
“You think the man in the video was the kidnapper too?”
“Maybe, but I think he fits into this somewhere or he has information we need. And I want to see who this guy is, study him without him knowing it.”
“How are we going to do that?” he asked now with more enthusiasm in his voice.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Dammit, Katie. Why do you do that? Now I’m not going to be able to sleep.”
“Go back to your girlfriend, and don’t forget to wear something nice tomorrow. Maybe a change of shirt too.”
“Katie, what the hell are—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Hey, Katie, lay off the heavy caffeine at this time of night. Otherwise, you’re going to be paying more for psyche fees.”
“Will do.” She ended the call.
Forty
Thursday 0745 hours
Katie drove to work early, eager to get back to the investigation. She felt surprisingly rested and alert after a long day yesterday; perhaps it was the pep talk from her uncle. She fully understood where he was coming from, but sometimes you just had to let baby birds fly on their own. She would give serious thought to speaking with a counselor—but for now she forged ahead.
She pulled into the parking lot at the sheriff’s office and drove around the building to her usual parking area. There was some kind of commotion going on. As she slowed to take a closer look, she saw the familiar crime scene tape cordoned off a section with John dusting for prints—from her Jeep.
“What the hell is going on?” she said to herself.
Pulling over, she was out of the car in seconds and by John’s side as he dusted print powder along the rear windows of her car. “What the hell is going on, John?”
He looked up from his work and said with a smile, “I was leaving late last night and caught a guy scoping out your Jeep. I called him out and he ran before I could catch him.”
“He touched my car?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t keep anything in there besides some training stuff for Cisco. What was he looking for? You think he was just a thief?”
“Don’t know. It was hard to tell.”
“What did he look like?”
“That’s the thing, I couldn’t see his face clearly.”
Katie frowned—it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She thought of the person leaving her messages and wondered if it was the same person here last night.
“Sorry, that’s just how it goes sometimes,” he said, concentrating back on his work.
“So he actually touched the Jeep?”
“You already asked me that. We’re checking cameras too.”
“I’m just trying to figure out why he would want to do that.”
“I only saw him for a moment. I’
m hoping that I’ll get a good set of prints and we can find out who he is so you can ask him what he was doing.”
“I hope so.”
“It may be nothing, but I’ll be thorough.” John tried to reassure her.
“Yeah, it could be nothing,” Katie said, but she wasn’t so sure. “Could you…?”
“I’ll let you know immediately if the prints get a hit,” he said, still concentrating on his task.
Katie smiled. She knew that John was methodical at his job. “Thanks, John.”
Back in her office, it was clear McGaven had been busy. On the board, he had written:
“You’re on the right track”: Left on car at psychiatric hospital
“You’re closer, red hot now”: Left at abandoned house
“Don’t spend too much time there”: Left inside briefcase—at morgue or apartment?
McGaven looked up from his work as Katie put down her things. “You thinking what I’m thinking? That the guy messing with your car last night was the same one leaving you notes?”
Katie sat down in her chair still looking at the messages. “I cannot worry about it right now; if John gets a hit then we’ll see if it fits into the investigation. Otherwise, it’s just on the back burner.”
“I agree.”
“I read your overview report from yesterday while I had breakfast,” she said. “Very interesting. I’ll watch the video from the hospital later if need be, but I trust your assessment.”
“I think we should really take a look at these messages you’ve been receiving.”
“I thought we were going to leave it on the back burner?” she said.
“I’m looking at them and I’m thinking…”
“Obviously, someone is trying to tell me, guide me, or throw me off track on this investigation,” she said.
“The killer?”
“I don’t think so. The statements are too straightforward, not playing games, not dramatic enough, and it seems like they are really trying to help me. A concerned person? Maybe someone who knows the killer?”
“It’s strange like…” McGaven said as he reread the messages. “It reads like a…”
“Story? Or a list of instructions?” Katie added.
“Exactly.”
Katie let out a sigh. “What bothers me is that the person got close enough to slip the note into my briefcase.”
“Did you notice anyone following you yesterday? Someone staring at you or making notes?”
“I’ve had some weird experiences, that’s for sure, but no, I haven’t seen anyone watching me.”
McGaven looked concerned.
“Don’t worry about me. My uncle has already played that card. I’m fine. Really,” she stressed her point. “I’m not a kindergarten teacher; I’m an army vet, and a police officer.”
He laughed. “You’re right.”
“What’s so funny?”
“I could just imagine you as the drill sergeant for a bunch of four-year-olds.”
“Is that how you see me?”
“Sure,” he said still laughing. “Well, not quite.”
“I think you should put five bucks in that coffee can.”
“Hey,” McGaven said, back to his serious mode looking at the computer. “Have you checked your email?”
“Not this morning yet.”
“John has some preliminary stuff for us. There’s a match for a carpet fiber found under Amanda’s nail.”
Katie had risen from her chair and peered over McGaven’s shoulder, reading the reports on the computer screen. “The fiber was from inside a high-end vehicle.”
McGaven read the report. “It states there’s a high probability it was from a Mercedes, Lexus, or possibly some of the BMW models. But the company that supplied these carpets, Trevvo, is no longer in business. Now all three of these makes of car use a new company, Brenalin Works.” He moved to his notes and took a CD and inserted it into a laptop. “Check this out.” He smiled.
The video played showing Amanda walking toward the convenience store and the entire interplay with the unknown man.
“Can’t quite see the type of vehicle. BMW maybe?” she said. “Hand it over to John and see what he says.”
“Done.”
“Okay, we have a carpet fiber from a high-end car; Amanda was seen getting into a high-end car with an unknown man at 11 p.m. on the evening before her body was found. Time of death was 2 a.m. within a half hour. So between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. Amanda ate a rich dinner and then was killed, driven to Whispering Pines and her body dumped.” She sat back. “It’s beginning to tell a story,” she said. “But why would Amanda not tell me that she was seeing someone?”
“Maybe she wasn’t seeing that person?” McGaven suggested. “And maybe the killer was taking extra precautions?”
Katie browsed her lists and tried to zero in more specifically, but they just didn’t have enough information. Her thoughts returned to Jane Doe.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” said McGaven.
“I keep going back to Amanda and her original story about being kidnapped, why I couldn’t find anything to prove she had been held, but her description of how to get to the house seemed accurate—and the deputies didn’t find anything either. Something isn’t right, and I just can’t see it—yet.” She let out a frustrated sigh.
“Maybe she just lied.”
“It’s possible—but we have to keep running down more evidence before settling on a definitive fact.”
“Yeah well, someone is trying to give you some intel,” he said and gestured to the notes. “And they’ve gotten really close to you in order to leave those messages. Seems pretty risky.”
“You’re starting to sound like my uncle.”
“Well, great minds do think alike,” he said, smiling. “Seriously, please be careful.”
“Noted,” Katie said. She tried not to sound like it bothered her, but in truth, it made her a little uneasy.
There was a sudden knock at the office door. Katie and McGaven looked at each other. It was strange to have visitors to their office.
“Come in,” Katie said.
The door opened; it was Sissy the upstairs receptionist. She carried a large bundle and put it on Katie’s desk. “Hi, this just came for you, Detective Scott, special courier from the county.”
“Oh great,” Katie said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the receptionist said as she hurried out of the office.
“Gifts,” McGaven said.
Katie was already unrolling it. “This is great.”
“Great, more paperwork,” he said with a low tone.
“No, here’s all the information for the housing project—architectural drawings—and a list of residents before they were given notices to vacate.” She began sorting through the papers, separating them into piles. “I love this guy.”
“Who?”
“Oh, this researcher, Shane, at the county. He knows how to find anything.”
“Sounds like you’re smitten with him.”
“It’s not like that… I think he will be very helpful in future investigations.” Katie took her attention away from the new paperwork and asked McGaven, “First impression—what do you think of the notes—friend, killer, or someone else.”
“My first thought, honestly, it’s someone who’s trying to help us but doesn’t want their identity known—maybe they have a record or maybe they are related to the killer.”
Katie thought about that and said, “Maybe someone who has a reputation or a job to lose?”
“Like a doctor? Someone like Dr. Jamison?” he said.
“It would make some sense, Amanda’s supervisor. Maybe she was having an affair with him?” Katie speculated. “But we’re talking about two different things—the notes and the killer.”
“I bet the doc has a high-end vehicle and likes expensive dinners.”
“I bet most doctors at the hospital would fit that description too.” Katie thoug
ht that Dr. Jamison had some information they needed, but he was most likely not the killer. “The hours they keep. How would he have the time to hold someone hostage, plan out the ambush, and dispose of the body?”
“More questions than answers,” he said. “Should we bring in Dr. Jamison to find out? We can also ask him about his dad and the original Basin Woods Project.”
Katie reread her preliminary profile of the killer. “I’ve called the hospital, Dr. Jamison’s voicemail, his personal cell phone, and left messages. Nothing. He’s busy, I’ll give him that. The hospital told me that he’s working back-to-back surgeries—but they also told me that he promised to call me back, but hasn’t made any attempt.”
“Do we bring him in or go to the hospital?”
“No.”
“No?” he said surprised.
“No. I want to go on a little field trip first before we bring him in,” she said. “I don’t want to spook him if he’s hiding more than infidelities, or anything else for that matter. Once we bring him in then he’ll be prepared and there’s a chance he’ll request a lawyer. I want to see him in his comfort zone first. Find out what makes him tick.”
“Great, another field trip,” he said disappointed.
“What?” she asked.
“You get all the fun.”
“Don’t worry. You’re coming too.” She smiled. The more she thought about it, the more she thought it might shed some light on things. It was a little unorthodox for a criminal investigation, but she wasn’t breaking any rules or doing anything compromising to the case. “Hope you’re ready for this…”
McGaven gave her a silly thumbs up sign. “I’m ready.”
Her Last Whisper: An absolutely unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Katie Scott Book 2) Page 17
