Katie joined McGaven.
“What do you think?” she said.
“She’s evasive and telling partial truths. She seemed hesitant with questions that were more routine and averted her eyes when she explained what happened.”
“You think she’s hiding something?”
“Yes, but it’s something that she doesn’t want us to know. My guess, it’s something personal.”
Katie glanced at a few people passing by. “I think she tried too hard to put suspicion on the neighbor.”
Katie received a text message from John. It said: No prints or evidence at the Trenton house.
“What’s up?” he said.
“John couldn’t find any fingerprints at Jeanine Trenton’s house.” She was disappointed. Although it would be too easy.
“Too bad. Just means we need to keep digging.”
They briskly walked back to the sedan and got inside to get out of the cold.
Katie drove out of the parking lot, heading to the Community Health Alliance where Jeanine had worked, to see what they could find out.
“So,” said McGaven. “We have the best friend who can’t commit to the exact time that she came over, tried to make it seem like when her best friend dated her boyfriend it wasn’t any big deal, and tried to divert suspicion to the neighbor. That about right?”
“Just about.” Katie rolled what Mandy Davis had to say through her mind and found herself unconvinced that she was telling them everything.
“We have our work cut out for us.”
McGaven received a text. “Looks like we have been given the green light to take a look at Jeanine Trenton’s personal belongings.”
“Well, let’s make that our first stop,” said Katie.
Chapter Seventeen
Friday 1305 hours
After Katie and McGaven picked up a key from Daniels & Smith, Attorneys at Law, they headed to the storage facility to have a look at Jeanine Trenton’s personal belongings. Her things were being held in probate until the state could sell everything, including the house. She had no immediate family, but the probate attorneys were doing their due diligence in case there was a family member not listed.
Katie and McGaven had received permission to look through Jeanine’s belongings as part of the murder investigation, and anything they took would be factored into the probate.
As McGaven drove to the storage unit, Katie remained quiet. She was thinking about the military K9 facility and wondered what experiences Jeanine Trenton had had there as a trainer. It was clear that Sergeant Serrano had feelings for her, but there was no mention of it to her best friend. Why?
“I wonder what secrets are going to tumble out?” said McGaven.
“We’ll see.”
“Why are you so quiet? That big detective brain of yours working overtime?”
She laughed. “Something like that.”
“I bet you’re trying to figure out the killer’s motives and why they are so screwed up.”
She shifted her weight and moved her attention from the window to her partner. “It’s really difficult to stay focused on this killer when there are three previous cases.”
McGaven didn’t respond, but it was clear he knew exactly how Katie felt. His face and jaw tightened.
“This may sound strange…”
“What?”
“Somehow this case—these cases—seem personal. It’s the K9 training. It’s a part of you—probably forever.”
“I never thought about it like that—but you’re right.”
“Yeah…” He took the turn into the storage facility and stopped at the entrance to key in the code. The black gate opened wide and McGaven drove in. “Sometimes I may just surprise you.”
Katie smiled. “Every day on the job you surprise me, Gav.”
McGaven eased around several buildings until he found “E.” He parked outside and they both exited the vehicle.
“We’re looking for E121,” he said.
The entrance on the bottom floor was a plain metal door. There was a simple sign above, reading “E110–E130.”
Katie pulled the utility door open and the fluorescent ceiling lights automatically lit up as they entered. The outside door shut behind them, making a distinct suction sound. They walked down a long hallway. As they passed through, the lights extinguished, leaving darkness behind them. The temperature was quite a bit cooler than the outside air and became stifling. Since there were no windows to indicate if it was light or dark outside, it had a creepy vibe.
“I think this is it,” Katie said and pointed to a medium-sized storage unit on the left. “E121.”
McGaven retrieved the key, unlocked the padlock and pulled up the roll-up door. “There it is.”
Looking inside the locker, they sighed. There were boxes stacked from floor to ceiling and it would take a bit of time.
“Well,” Katie said. “At least they are clearly marked, so let’s find the personal items and forget the rest. We don’t need to look at the dishes, pots, and pans.”
McGaven shed his jacket and began to pull out boxes of interest. Twenty minutes later, they had only a total of ten boxes to view.
“That’s not so bad,” she said, with her hands on her hips. “I’ll take five.”
McGaven sliced open the tops of the boxes with his pocketknife.
For the next fifteen to twenty minutes, Katie and McGaven carefully emptied boxes, examined the contents, and then repacked them.
Katie felt keenly aware of the intrusion by going through Jeanine’s private things as she viewed personal letters, birthday cards, and individual pieces of jewelry. “Anything?” she said, glancing to McGaven.
“Nope.”
Katie had been through three boxes already and was just about to pull the last item from the bottom of the fourth box. It was a navy-colored journal. With no picture or lettering, it was just a plain book. When she opened it, she viewed handwriting and some simple drawings. She noticed that the last entry was a week before Jeanine was murdered. “Gav.”
He was busily repacking one of the boxes.
“Gav,” she said again.
He looked up. “What do you have?” He moved closer to see the journal.
“I’m just skimming but she was very honest and detailed when she wrote her entries.”
McGaven read over her shoulder. “Let’s bring it with us.”
“Yep.”
A couple of photos dropped from the back of the journal. Katie bent down and picked them up. They were of Jeanine during her time in the military, pictured with some of the dogs. Bright-eyed, smiling, she appeared to be loving her job. “It looks like Jeanine was very happy training dogs in the military.”
“I wonder what happened? Why didn’t she stay?”
“I don’t know. Sergeant Serrano didn’t give any indication,” she said. She slid the photos back into the journal. “See if you can find any photographs or memory disks.” She thought she should have pressed him harder.
“On it.”
Katie and McGaven searched for anything that might prove useful, but didn’t find anything other than the journal.
After returning everything to the storage space and securing the lock, they left the facility.
Katie was now behind the wheel as McGaven skimmed through Jeanine’s journal.
“Listen to this,” he said and read out loud: “‘I love working at the CHA, but I don’t know how much longer I can take the hostile environment. No matter what I do, tackling them head-on or ignoring them, it’s always the same. Lately it’s been aggressive and I’m afraid that they might try to harass me at my house.’”
“That sounds serious,” she said.
“It does,” he agreed. “And her handwriting starts out neat and then gets messier as if she was struggling to write that particular entry.”
“Interesting. I’m glad that we’re on our way to the health center now.”
“Let’s see what shakes out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Friday 1530 hours
The Community Health Alliance building was in the older part of Pine Valley and it helped people who were on assistance and social security. It covered all areas of care, including health screenings, family planning, and child health services. The building had been occupied by many businesses until the health care facility took over eight years ago.
“Listen to this,” said McGaven as he read from Jeanine Trenton’s journal. “‘I can usually take the crap from some of my co-workers, but today was the last straw. I’ve decided to give my resignation first thing Monday to Angela Norton. I have a few prospects and I really need…’”
“Really need what?”
“That’s it. That’s the end of the entry. And it’s dated two days before her death.”
“She never got the chance to give her notice,” said Katie.
Katie drove into the area and was able to find a parking place. The parking lot was in desperate need of a fresh paving. Stubborn cracks and various potholes littered the area. It was a sterile building that needed some type of landscaping to soften the sharp lines of the construction and to help make it more inviting.
Katie cut the engine and remained seated, staring out.
“What?” said McGaven drinking a large iced tea. They had stopped for a quick bite before taking on the challenge of talking with employees at the facility.
“Not everyone still works here since Jeanine Trenton was murdered.”
“No problem. There’s many ways we can go. Track them down or just go by the previous interviews—unless of course something stands out. Then… we’ll take it from there.” He looked at his partner. “What’s really going on?”
“Do you actually think we’re going to find anything new? There’ve been so many investigators working on these cases.”
“We can always find out something new. And we’re going to do it our way. I think something will surface.”
“You’re right. That entire command center with Agent Campbell just makes me wonder.”
“You mean the command center or the agent?” He noisily finished his drink, sliding the empty cup into the holder.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughed.
“What?” she said.
“Katie, I’ve known you a while now. We’ve been through—well, let’s just say a lot.”
“And?”
“And you can be tough, incredibly intuitive, and dense at the same time.”
“Was that supposed to be a pep talk?”
“You’re missing the point. You are so in tune with everything about cold cases and people relating to the investigation, but you fail to see things that are on a more personal level.”
“Gav, what are you getting at?”
“You can be thick sometimes… you never seem to notice when men are intimidated by you—not just your smarts but your looks.”
“So you’re saying Agent Campbell was intimidated? Right. He’s arrogant and controlling. His job is probably at stake and that’s why he’s so desperate that he came here when the big FBI didn’t get anywhere with their own investigations.”
McGaven raised his eyebrows in a look that meant “See, I told you so.”
“Okay, I’ll admit it. If you call me out on it, I’ll deny it. He seemed to be interested in me—for the investigation. So? He’s a good-looking man—if you like that type.”
McGaven laughed again.
“I’m engaged,” she said and flashed her ring. “Why are you bringing all this up? Other than to embarrass me.”
“You need to take everything into consideration and make it work for you. Enjoy your life more.”
Katie opened the door. “I’m not entirely sure why we’re having this conversation, but it’s noted. Okay? I get your meaning, that I need to pay attention to personal things sometimes…”
“Good,” he said, smiling as he got out of the car.
The sun had managed to make its debut, peeking through the clouds and warming the air. Katie felt the heat on her back as they walked toward the entrance. She had become an expert in taking even, deep breaths and not drawing the attention of McGaven or anyone else. Calming her nerves, she readied herself and hoped that they would learn something new.
There were two people, a man and a woman, waiting outside, dressed in long, quilted royal blue coats, which seemed odd. It was chilly but not cold enough to have such heavy jackets. Averting their eyes, they didn’t look directly at her. She thought they were a couple, but they seemed more like siblings, based on their mannerisms. They appeared to be agitated.
Katie and McGaven walked past and entered through the double doors.
Almost immediately, Katie was struck by the stifling air inside, which had the musty undertone of a basement, as if they were entering a garage that hadn’t had any ventilation in a while. The old tile flooring was chipped and she detected unevenness as she walked. Everything was beige, including the floor and the walls, which made it feel more institutional than medical.
There were at least a dozen people sitting in plastic fold-out chairs patiently waiting. Several children were playing in the corner with toys. Some of the women looked up and watched Katie and McGaven walk towards the check-in desk. A couple of men were immersed in their cell phones and didn’t pay attention to them. It was obvious that they were cops—their guns and badges were visible. The sustained looks were directed more at Katie than her tall partner.
A short woman with dark hair was at the front check-in counter. She coordinated clipboards with filled-out applications and medical histories.
“Yes?” she said, almost on cue and without looking up. “Take a form and fill it out, then bring it back.”
“I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven.”
The woman’s gaze darted at them. “What can I help you with?” she asked, her tone mistrustful.
Katie could see that her name tag read “Rita” and decided to take a friendly approach. She realized that many people, especially in struggling economic areas, didn’t trust law enforcement and it made her sad.
“Rita,” she said. “We’re here to talk to two of the employees, if that’s possible.”
“What is it about?” she said suspiciously.
“It’s about a previous employee, Jeanine Trenton.”
Her demeanor softened as her shoulders slumped forward. “Oh, you haven’t found the killer yet?” she said, with some hope in her voice.
“That’s what we’re working on and we just wanted to ask a few more questions. Do you think that would be okay?”
“I’m sorry, it was a real loss losing Jeanine and in such a horrible way. She was one of the good ones. Who do you need to talk to?”
Katie glanced at her notes. “Angela Norton and Virginia Rodriguez.”
“Oh, Angie, she’s here.”
“What about Virginia?” said Katie.
“Uh, sure. She’s here today too.” Her tone was stilted.
“Would it be possible for me to speak with them?”
“Come with me,” she said.
Katie looked to McGaven and he nodded for her to go ahead—he hung back and casually began to check things out.
Katie followed Rita down a long hallway past several closed doors that she assumed were private offices as well as exam rooms. They continued, rounding a corner where they took stairs to the next level. Katie’s boot heels made a ringing noise against the metal as they climbed the staircase.
That familiar tug at Katie’s stomach tried to get her attention as they climbed in the stuffy and claustrophobic stairwell—the building was clearly old and in need of an update. Pressure seemed to build in her chest, causing her breathing to become shallow and stilted. Whenever she was in a tight area with dim lighting it made her nervous, and she tried to keep her wits and panic in check.
“Sorry, it’s a bit rickety, I’m afraid,” said Rita. “But it’s the only area where we have extra admi
nistrative offices. We needed every square foot downstairs for medical offices and exam rooms.”
Katie smiled in response, keeping her focus on her breathing.
“Here we are,” Rita said.
The door read: “Administrative Director, Angela L. Norton.”
Rita knocked on the door.
“Yes, come in,” came a voice on the other side.
Rita poked her head in and said, “A detective is here and wanted to ask a few questions about Jeanine.”
“Of course, please come in.” She eyed Katie a bit suspiciously.
Pushing the door wider, Katie entered the small office, which had no windows. The walls were lined with metal filing cabinets, with more folders on top waiting to be filed. There was a desk in the middle of the room with a computer, printer, and another large stack of files and paperwork.
“Thanks, Rita,” said the director. She was a tall, slender woman dressed in a sweater outfit and had a gold chain with glasses dangling around her neck.
Rita shut the door quietly behind her as she left.
“Hi, Ms. Norton,” said Katie. “I’m Detective Katie Scott from the Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department.”
“Pleased to meet you, but I’m saddened that it’s under such unpleasant circumstances. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
Katie thought she detected an east coast accent, but wasn’t sure. “My partner and I—he’s downstairs right now—are cold case detectives. And we’ve been given the Jeanine Trenton case.”
“Please sit down.”
“Thank you.” Katie spotted a metal chair up against one of the filing cabinets and slid it in front of the desk. She sat down. “One of the things we do when we receive a cold case investigation is speak with some of the people who knew the victim—and in this case worked with her.”
“What can I answer for you?” she said.
Katie immediately liked the director; she appeared to be honest and her body language indicated that she was genuine. She was relaxed and patient, not uptight and suspicious. “Well, firstly, can you tell me, what were Ms. Trenton’s responsibilities here? The report said she was a health care specialist.”
Pretty Broken Dolls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with mystery and suspense (Detective Katie Scott Book 6) Page 11
