They reached the front door and he opened it. “Dad,” he said loudly. “Dad, the detective is here.”
The house was neat, ragged and worn, but everything had its place. The living room had a small broken-down sofa with a folded blanket on one end, one large recliner, and a coffee table with neatly stacked books and magazines. Katie didn’t see a television or any type of electronic devices like a computer or cell phone. There was a cane leaning against the far wall.
A large man with a mostly bald head sat in the kitchen reading a magazine next to a small plate with the remains of a half-eaten sandwich on it. A small bottle of oxygen sat beside that, with tubes running up and into the old man’s nose. He appeared lost in his own world and didn’t immediately look up to see them.
“Dad!” said Cody raising his voice. “You need to wear your hearing aid!”
The man finally looked up, realized there was company and immediately put his hearing aid in place. “Sorry, lost track of time.” He released his oxygen connection and turned the canister off. He very slowly stood up and shuffled a couple of steps. “Please, we can talk in the living room,” he said with a winded voice.
Katie waited patiently as Teagen made himself comfortable in the recliner chair.
“Dad, do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Quit fussing over me.”
“Nice to meet you, Detective.” Cody smiled at Katie and left the house. She heard him call for the dog and there was a short yip and a scurry of claws on wood.
“I’m Detective Katie Scott and, as I told you on the phone, I’m heading up the cold case unit.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Detective Teagen, I just have a few questions about the Cynthia Andrews homicide.”
“Please, Detective, just call me Ken.”
Katie nodded. “Of course, Ken.”
“You must be Sheriff Scott’s niece.”
“Yes.”
“I seem to remember something about you going to the police academy and then army, was it?” he said.
“Yes, two tours as an army K9 handler.”
“Impressive. Thank you for your service.”
Katie nodded. “I appreciate that.” She couldn’t help but think that this poor man’s body had failed, but his mind was still sharp. It must’ve been difficult for him to be forced to retire before he was ready to. “I’m getting up to date on the Andrews homicide. Do you remember that case?”
“Yes, absolutely. It was a hard one to forget. In my entire career, it was the most senseless and grisly crime scene I had ever seen. I’m glad that you’re taking a look at it. It had always bothered me.”
“You visited the actual scene?”
“Yes, I couldn’t now, but we all trekked up there at the time. Your uncle and I, as well as the crime scene and morgue technicians.”
“I’ve seen the photos, but can you tell me what your first impression was?”
“Well, we received a call from State Parks with news that a body had been found. When we arrived, we had no idea exactly what we would find. That Andrews girl was strung up to a tree, body gutted. I had never seen wounds like that, not in all my years.”
“The medical examiner said the cuts were deep, no hesitation.”
“That’s right. I assumed it was someone crazed on drugs or something ritualistic, but the footprints we found told us that someone was stalking the poor girl before she was killed,” he said, catching his breath. “She didn’t have any defensive wounds, so it happened quickly, or she was already unconscious.”
Katie hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I have to ask this, but was there anything going on at the time at the department?”
“What do you mean, personally, or at the entire department?”
“In general, at the department. Were there pressures from the community or political issues, anything like that?”
Teagen took several breaths and with each inhale seemed like it would be his last. He finally said, “Nothing big like that. But…”
“But what?”
“You’re going to find out from your uncle unless you already know. He and I weren’t getting along at the time. He was so intent on running for sheriff and we were at odds on this case.”
Katie shook her head. “No, he hasn’t told me anything. He’s been focused on—” She stopped.
“It’s okay, Detective, I know all about the homicide. The entire town knows. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She rethought her next question. “This signature seems specific and not something that was a first time thing. Did you ever find any link to other cases?”
“See, that’s where your uncle and I differed. I wanted to spend more time on that angle—it was likely it was a serial killer or some satanic killer. But Scott wanted to concentrate on the family.”
Katie frowned.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but that’s how it was. Maybe today, we would think differently.” He fought with his breathing. “Could you bring me my oxygen?”
“Of course,” she said and went to the kitchen table. Reaching for the oxygen, she knocked off a magazine. Picking it up, she noticed a clipping from a college course sticking out of one of the pages: Introduction to Environmental Sciences, Dr. Brandon Wills as speaker—she then quickly grabbed the oxygen bottle. Going back to the living room, she gave the oxygen and apparatus to Teagen. “Shall I get your son?” she said.
“Oh no, I’m fine.”
“I have to admit this case is challenging. So let me get this straight. You thought it had the hallmarks for a serial killer and my uncle thought the family should be pressed more.”
“Yes.”
“What did he think was the motive for the family?” she asked, thinking of some of her own ideas.
“The usual: jealousy or revenge.”
“Jealousy for her accomplishments? She was achieving high grades and was working on this thesis. I don’t follow revenge so much.”
You see a lot of revenge in this business, Detective. More than there should be. Looking at it now, I guess we were both wrong. Something would have shown up by now.”
“I don’t necessarily think so. People kill for many different reasons. I’m beginning to see why you both had a difficult time working this case.”
“There was very little physical evidence—the slashed up tent and unusual marking from a hooked knife. Evidence, but it wasn’t anything we were successful in tracking down. The only thing that stood out was the location and the signature of the killer. That’s what we had to work with.”
“Well I think that’s about it. May I call you for your opinion if I have a follow-up question?” she asked.
“Of course, anything, Detective.”
Katie stood up. “Thank you, Ken, for seeing me today.”
* * *
Katie took the scenic way back to the department even though it was well past 5 p.m. She called McGaven on speakerphone:
“McGaven,” he answered.
“Hey, it’s me. Just finished talking with Detective Teagen.”
“Anything?”
“Not really. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Can’t wait. I have a few things shaking out with the family.”
“Good.”
“What’s up? You sound tired.”
“Hey, it’s late in the day. I’m going to head home,” she said.
“Stealing a cop car, I see,” he chuckled.
“I know… I’ll add buying a new car to my to-do list.”
“Could be fun.”
“I guess.”
“Take Denise with you—she lives for that kind of stuff.”
“Noted.”
“Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry I vented on you earlier. But I want you to take care of yourself. Go home, support our sheriff, and get some rest.”
“Okay. I’ll write our reports.”
“Good. I have my two pat
rol shifts Sunday and Monday, third watch.”
“So I won’t see you until Tuesday?”
“Yep. I’ve left you the evidence boxes locked in the room across the hall, and my background notes on the family on your desk. I saw your notes.”
“What notes?”
“For linkage. Searching other jurisdictions and counties about any victims with the same type of signature? I pulled up some articles that might interest you, but I haven’t been able to contact the departments yet for details.”
“Thanks, McGaven. What would I do without you?”
“With luck, you’ll never have to know. See you Tuesday.”
McGaven ended the call. Katie listened to the dead tone before her end hung up.
It was the end of the day on Thursday, but her real work was just beginning.
Twenty-Nine
Saturday 0805 hours
Katie woke to an eighty pound dog on her chest. Halfway rolled on his back with his paws outstretched, Cisco wanted her up and ready to do something. She leaned over and saw it was early.
“Cisco, I need another half hour,” she whined.
The dog grumbled and spun around in a playful way, bouncing on the bed.
Katie moaned and turned her attention to the sunshine peeking between the shades. It was obviously a beautiful morning and she wanted to take advantage of it.
She got a whiff of bacon cooking. Her uncle must’ve made breakfast. She rose slowly, pulling on her sweats and robe to venture into the kitchen only to find it empty. Noticing the oven ajar, Katie opened the door and saw a plate with bacon and eggs sitting under the warmer.
Her uncle had to be close because his electronic ankle device would alert authorities if he ventured too far from the house.
“Uncle Wayne,” she called out.
Katie looked out the window and saw him sitting at the picnic table staring in the distance. Her heart broke. He looked older. His hair had grown out a bit and a heavy shadow of stubble weighed down his face. She had been so caught up in clearing his name, she’d hardly stopped to think about her uncle’s grief. Perhaps because she wasn’t willing to address her own.
Adjusting her robe and cinching the sash tighter, she went outside to speak to him. He turned to see her walking across the yard and smiled. It was genuine, but she could see the extreme hurt behind it—in his eyes, his posture. He had lost hope. Katie knew that she must find it for him.
“Morning, Katie,” he said forcing a relaxed smile.
“Thank you for the eggs and bacon,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
“It’s a nice morning. I thought I’d enjoy some of it.”
“You haven’t told me much about what the attorney has said or what you’re going to do.”
“Not much to tell,” he said never looking directly at Katie. “Not yet anyway.”
“Are you prepared to fight?”
“It’s hard to fight when all the evidence seems to be against me.”
“I’ve never heard you sound fatalistic before.” She frowned as her concern for her uncle increased.
“Well, nothing is final yet.” He took another sip of his coffee, looking at his surroundings, obviously trying to focus his mind on something else. “This is such a great piece of property. Brings back so many memories.”
“Uncle Wayne, I’m worried.” Her voice choked up. She reminded herself to stay strong and not break down.
“Katie, I don’t want you to worry,” he said and took her hand. “You can’t take everyone’s burden as your own.”
“I’m worried about you,” she stressed. “I’m going to do everything I can. We’re family. You’re my family—I can’t lose…” She couldn’t finish the words. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t think about what could happen—the worst-case scenario.
“Katie, I’m still here. And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean?” she said.
“I’ve known you ever since you were a little girl—and I know you better than you think. Always trying to solve problems, taking on big things just because you could.” He laughed. “You were a serious little girl and you always knew what you wanted—and went after it.”
“I can’t help it,” she said.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think. I’m more worried about you and whoever this person is that came after you than I am about being thrown behind bars. It’s obviously someone who is intent on making me pay by taking those I love away from me.”
“Do you think it’s the same guy?” she said, shuddering at the thought of the man shrouded by darkness and firing off four rounds into her Jeep like he was shooting fish in a barrel.
“I don’t know.”
“Speculation?”
He hesitated. “Of course, there’s a high probability that it is. But who is the question.”
“And why?” she said.
“It’s someone committed to hurting me at any cost. Their hatred is overflowing and they want me to pay. Instead of killing me, they are taking away everyone and everything important to me.” He turned to face Katie. “I won’t allow you to put yourself in danger.”
Katie sat quietly.
“You will keep me informed, right?” he pushed.
“Of course. I can handle myself—you know that,” she said. “And, you seem to forget that I led an entire army team through bomb-infested areas ten thousand miles away from home.” She tried to sound lighthearted, but she knew that she didn’t.
“You’ll understand someday when you have children. Even though I never had any, you were like my own. But, it’s difficult not to see our children as children anymore. You’re always going to be that spunky little girl running with boys, climbing trees, and riding motocross bikes.” He laughed in spite of himself.
“Uncle Wayne…” she said and hugged him tight as tears fell down her face.
“Now, Katie,” he said, wiping her cheeks, “just because there isn’t a quick fix to all of this, doesn’t mean there isn’t a solution. And we may not like the outcome. We have to stay strong.”
Katie nodded, keeping her breath easy. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you again about what all that was about with Detective Paul Patton at the party. I know what you said before, but…”
“Just like I told Detective Hamilton, Patton is still steaming over the past—he cannot seem to let it go. I had to take him off certain cases before he retired and he was angry—and now obviously bitter.”
“Do you think he’s capable of murder?” she asked.
Looking away, her uncle said, “I think everyone is capable of murder at some point in their life—but there’s a thin line that most will not cross.”
“Uncle Wayne, I’m not the press.” She hated pushing him on this matter. “Do you think he could be capable of murdering Claire?”
After a moment or so, Katie didn’t think he was going to answer her question, but he finally said, “Yes, I think he’s capable. But I don’t think he did it.”
Katie thought about what her uncle had told her and then she thought about the figure in the dark in the apple orchard and wondered if that could’ve been Patton.
“I get the feeling you wanted to ask me something else?” he asked now staring at her.
“I’m working on the Cynthia Andrews homicide case.”
Her uncle studied her and she could tell that he was unhappy, even bordering on angry. “Why did you pick that case? That wasn’t in my original selection.”
“Well, I…”
He stood up. “I know why you picked that case. You think that the same person who killed Andrews killed Claire.”
“Wait a minute. First, it was in the cold case file—just not the top priority cases. And two, it was one of your cases. I thought that if I could look at some of your old cases maybe something, anything, might pop up as to why someone would want to bring this much heartbreak into your life.”
“I see where you’re going but there’s no
proof that the signature is identical.”
“Actually, I spoke with Dr. Dean and he said he couldn’t say one hundred percent, but there are definite consistencies of the wounds in both crimes. There’s a chance it was committed by the same person. Tell me, how could you, or anyone, think it’s a coincidence?”
“Katie, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“I hope it leads us to the real killer. If this person killed Andrews twelve years ago, and has come after you by killing Claire… we’re dealing with an organized, violent psychopath who knows how to not get caught. There must be other cases, not just these two.”
He sat back down and chose his words before saying, “This is too dangerous.”
“I’m not ten anymore. I have McGaven working with me on the Andrews case.”
“Does he know why you picked that one?”
“I haven’t told him, but he knows I’m up to something, and believe me, he has already lectured me on it.”
Her uncle smiled. “I always liked him. I’m glad he’s worked out as a great partner.”
“The best,” she said. “I spoke with Detective Teagen yesterday.”
Her uncle didn’t immediately answer and she couldn’t read his expression.
“What did he say?” he asked flatly.
“He just talked about the case and how it was the worst crime scene he had seen on the job. Nothing more than I could obtain from the reports and statements.”
Her uncle listened.
“Uncle Wayne, he’s in really bad shape. He can barely get around, has to be on oxygen. Why do I get the feeling that he wasn’t being completely honest with me about you?”
“You picked that up? Yeah, well, sometimes you have to make tough decisions about people that doesn’t make you friends.”
“I didn’t get the feeling that he has a problem with you.”
“Oh he does, believe me. And it’ll never change.”
“Why?”
“We were never good friends, but we respected each other, as most do on the job. As his health began to go downhill with his heart condition, the sheriff at the time assigned me to work with him on his cases. You can just imagine how well that went over. Teagen thought I was his babysitter, overseeing every move he made.” He paused as if remembering specific conversations.
Flowers on Her Grave Page 17
