Katie and McGaven were both captivated by his explanation. It changed the crime scene dynamics.
“You see, for the blow to the chest to have killed her, it would have had to be during the precise moment of a heartbeat and aimed near the center of the heart’s left ventricle. This can trigger ventricular tachycardia. It can cause your heart to stop for a short period of time—or cause a sudden cardiac arrest.”
“A heart attack,” said Katie.
“Precisely.”
“So she could have been having a heart attack, which is what killed her, but the slicing of the throat was secondary. She would have bled to death, but it was sped up by the heart attack. Am I correct?”
“Essentially, yes. If I were to write this autopsy report, it would have read: ‘cause of death—primary ventricular tachycardia and secondary hypovolemic shock or blood loss caused from a neck knife wound.’”
“What types of weapons could cause this strategic blow to the heart?”
Dr. Dean thought a moment. “Anything long and slender that could be administered in a jabbing or poking motion. There would have to be some force behind it.”
“Like a baseball bat or a heavy tool?” said McGaven.
“Yes. If it were someone that was a master at martial arts or another similar discipline, a fist or foot blow could do the same. But you would have to be quite accurate.”
Katie leaned back taking everything in the medical examiner had told them.
Dr. Dean shuffled through several papers. “I have nothing to compare with their toxicology reports, but it appears in order and states that nothing unusual was found in the victim’s system.”
“Thank you for taking the time to look over this. It was on the condition of the body that we wanted your attention and expertise the most.”
“Detectives, it’s always a pleasure. You make my job more interesting,” he said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have bodies to tend to, and that includes one for your current investigation.”
“Oh, one more thing,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Would it be possible for you to look at two other cases, just the autopsy of the injuries to their chests?”
“Of course. Send them over and I’ll get back to you when I can.” He rose from his desk and was gone.
“What do you think?” she asked McGaven walking toward the door.
“It changes things a bit. I mean, the outcome would be the same but the opportunity and means differ. This type of injury is intentional and also shows that the killer has medical knowledge. This is a game changer.”
“I agree.”
“I know something is bothering you.”
“Why wouldn’t Campbell’s people have found this? Surely one of them would have caught it. I’m still somewhat skeptical about this case and why we were dragged into it.”
Katie’s cell phone vibrated as she received a text message from Denise at the department.
You have a package delivered from the army K9 training facility. I left it in your office.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Monday 1625 hours
Katie drove to Ink Tattoo, located in a small strip mall just on the edge of town. She thought about the tattoo and why Jeanine Trenton would want to have hers removed, since it was clear that she loved her time as a military K9 handler and trainer.
“You’re sure that this place removes tattoos?” she said to McGaven.
“Yep. And it isn’t easy to talk to someone at a tattoo parlor once they know you’re a cop. But this place seems more open and they said that they get a lot of veterans and military personnel.”
“And they said that they’ve removed military K9-type tattoos?”
“That’s what he said.”
Katie parked. She grabbed a file folder with a photo of Jeanine Trenton, since she was local to the area.
They got out of the sedan.
A couple of heavily tattooed men left the shop, giving both Katie and McGaven the once-over before they got into their oversized truck.
“Hi,” said McGaven and he gave a friendly wave.
Katie pushed open the door and turned to her partner. “Making friends?”
“Of course, everywhere we go.”
Katie stepped inside. She had never been to a tattoo or piercing place before. It was smaller than she had expected. There were three areas where tattoo artists would work on their clients. The chairs resembled a dentist chair, allowing the customer to lie back or on their side depending where the tattoo was placed.
Hundreds of designs festooned the wall from floor to ceiling, featuring everything from cartoons and flowers to faces of famous people and everyday items.
A very large burly man in a white tank top said, “Can I help you?” He had been putting away some ink supplies and wiping down one of the chairs.
“I hope so,” said Katie. “You are?”
He turned and looked at her. “I would love to help you. You can call me Big Daddy.”
“Well, Big Daddy. I’m Detective Scott and this is my partner Deputy McGaven.”
His face turned sour. “Cops? Why would I want to talk to cops?”
McGaven had been checking out the designs on the wall and quickly read the mounted business license. “Well, for starters, Mr. Robert Denton, we just want to know about any dermabrasions you’ve done recently.”
“That’s a new one.”
“Can you help us?” Katie asked, trying to sound more like a friend than a cop. “We’re investigating two women who were brutally murdered.”
He sighed. “Sorry to hear that. My sister was murdered by her boyfriend. He’s doing twenty-five to life.”
“At least they caught the person who did it. Would you mind looking at a photo?”
The big man moved toward Katie. “Yeah, sure. It’s slow today anyway.”
Katie opened the file and showed him a photograph of Jeanine Trenton.
He stared at it for a good minute. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure.” He looked closer at Jeanine and said, “Maybe. What’s the design?”
“Military K9. Have you seen or removed anything like that?”
“Well,” he said, “it would be in this file.” He pulled out a file drawer and fingered through records. “We’ve done a few of those dermabrasions in the past year.”
“How about three years?” she said.
“Hmmm.” He kept flipping through pages inside folders. “Here we go.” He pulled a file. “I always take pictures of the artwork before removing them, just call it for insurance reasons. And they also have to sign a type of release. I handle all of these types of clients.”
Katie scrolled through her phone until she came to a photo of the mostly removed tattoo on Jeanine’s wrist.
Big Daddy gave her the photo from the file.
Katie looked at both photos. She turned to McGaven. “What do you think?”
He stared at them. “I would say it’s her.”
Katie looked up. “Do you remember anything about this client? What’s the date?”
He read down and said, “March, two years ago.”
“I see. Do you remember anything about her?”
He appeared to really try hard to remember. “I recall the tattoo but the woman… I can’t remember exactly what she looked like, even with that photo. Plain Jane, most likely. She didn’t complain like so many of them do. It’s not a nice procedure.”
“One more question,” she said.
“Anything for you, little lady,” he said and smiled.
“It’s ‘Detective.’ Why do most people get tattoos removed? In your experience.”
“Usually it’s a boyfriend or girlfriend that’s now an ex and they can’t bear seeing that name. Sometimes it’s just a bad tattoo, muddled, usually from guys that have been in prison.” He thought more. “As I recall, this K9 tattoo was something that she didn’t want to be reminded of anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. She didn�
�t say much. I got the feeling that she was scared. See, usually people who have tattoos removed are very angry.”
“You sure about that?” she asked.
“Hey, I deal with people day in and day out… I think I know when someone is angry or scared.”
“Noted. Take my card and if you remember anything else about her or someone else comes in asking about her… call me.” She handed him a business card.
“Thanks. I will.”
“Thanks for your time, Big Daddy.”
Katie and McGaven left the premises.
“What do you think?” asked McGaven.
“We know now that Jeanine Trenton was scared about something… or someone.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tuesday 1055 hours
Katie was tired since she had only slept for three hours, but it was important to continue their investigation on Jeanine Trenton’s murder until reports arrived from the Jane Doe homicide. She knew that they would overlap in many ways and waited patiently until more information became available.
Katie spent fifteen minutes talking with Virginia Rodriguez from the Community Health Alliance, the first chance since the distraught man with a gun overshadowed the interview. The woman was difficult to talk to, but was truthful about the friction on the job, as she called it, between her and Jeanine, and admitted to bullying her in the past.
She hung up the phone and sighed.
“Anything?” he asked.
“No, but she was at least honest in answering my questions. Virginia Rodriguez is an unlikely suspect, but we’ll keep her on the board just in case.”
Katie pointed to a padded envelope on her desk. “Right, shall we see what this is?”
“I was waiting for you to open it,” said McGaven with a curious expression.
Katie opened the envelope from the army K9 training facility in Sacramento. She pulled out two flash drives with USB plugs and a handwritten letter.
Detective Scott, please find a few videos from K9 training that I hope will help in your investigations. The sound isn’t the best—I apologize for that. These were the only video documentation I could find of Jeanine Trenton, but there were others in which recruits washed out. I thought that would be of interest to you. If I come across anything else, I will send it on. It was a pleasure meeting you. Kindest Regards, Sergeant Anthony Serrano
“Interesting.”
“What?” she said.
‘“It was a pleasure meeting you’…” he repeated.
“Give it a rest, Gav.”
“I’m just saying. He was extremely impressed by your K9 training abilities.”
“And Cisco,” she added. “Here, plug these into your laptop so we can check them out.” She handed him the flash drives.
McGaven took the drives and inserted them. After a few moments, a window opened with ten video images.
Katie rolled her chair closer to McGaven.
He clicked on the first video icon. “Here we go.”
There were muffled voices, which Katie assumed was Sergeant Serrano giving instructions. Standing at the front of the group was Jeanine Trenton; she had a regal German shepherd sitting at her left side. There was a group of recruits watching, but it was difficult, if not impossible, to see the identities of the soldiers as the view was of the backs of their heads. There were a couple of women, based on their ponytail or braid down the back. Jeanine was showing basic obedience, and Katie assumed this session would have been the very beginning, or orientation for the training course. Jeanine was cheerful and energetic as she moved through the exercises. She definitely was a good dog handler and clearly loved it.
“We can’t see much,” said McGaven.
“Maybe not, but we can see Jeanine Trenton alive and happy.”
“True.”
“And she definitely loved working with the dogs. That’s why I can’t figure out why she quit and why she never talked about it much.” Katie watched the other videos.
There was nothing out of the ordinary until they reached the second to last video. It appeared that Jeanine was arguing with one of the recruits and she was angry. Her words were difficult to make out but she said something like, “You shouldn’t be anywhere near animals and don’t know anything about the gift of bonding with dogs.” But the person she was speaking with had their back to the camera. It was clear that it was a woman and there was a man next to her.
“Wow, now there’s a different side to Jeanine Trenton,” said McGaven. “A little out of line.”
“Not really,” said Katie. “You don’t know the army. It can be a tough pill to swallow if you’re not used to criticism. It can be fierce. But I think Jeanine was being passionate and maybe this person wasn’t at all cut out for being a dog handler.”
McGaven rewound the video a few times. “I can’t see who she’s talking to or the person next to them.”
“I know. Not very useful.” Katie was a bit disappointed, but not defeated. There was always something to learn from every clue.
Katie and McGaven watched the videos again.
After the last video, Katie said, “I think I’m going to send an email to Sergeant Serrano and ask if he could identify these recruits, since he sent videos and all.”
“It’s worth a shot.”
Katie quickly sent an email from her cell phone.
She studied the murder board. “So what do we have on Jeanine Trenton’s journal? Anything worth mentioning?”
McGaven flipped through his notebook. “Nothing more than about her work nightmare and harassment. I’ve read most of it, skimming through really mundane stuff. She did mention about the neighbor, Mrs. Caldwell— apparently, she was accusing her of having too many people at her house. She thought the neighbor was weird.”
“And?”
“And she mainly talked about day-to-day struggles and if she was going to too many parties. And…”
“Nothing jumped out? Nothing about her K9 training time and how much she loved it?”
“Nope.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate.” Discouragement was beginning to set in. The journal had seemed promising at the storage facility, and now it seemed it was just about boring day-to-day occurrences.
McGaven turned his attention to the board and then back to Katie. “So, assuming that Campbell is right, and the last three are copycat killings, what is the killer’s motive? What stands out the most?”
Katie stood up. “Well,” she said. “Let’s recap what we have so far: we have our killer staging the victims, meaning they want to cause a scene, mock the police, put the vic in view of the public. Basically, making them pay for something that happened to them.”
“They took something away…”
“Good point,” she said. “It’s about control, revenge, and possibly abuse. I still can’t get what Sergeant Serrano said out of my mind: ‘graduate or wash out’. Could that be what this…” She gestured to everything they had. “What all of this is about? Just a ticked-off person that washed out of military K9 training? It can’t be that easy.”
“No, but it’s central to these cases,” he said. “And…”
Katie turned to him curiously. “And what?”
“Well, I didn’t think I needed to state the obvious.”
“Meaning?”
“The K9 connection is central, but it brings it back to you. Someone was warning you with those shots at the park training. There was no evidence left behind, but the person carefully fired shots near you.”
“What? To warn me? For me to get off the case?”
“No, that you’re going to be the next ex-military K9 handler victim. They are giving you fair warning.”
“Don’t you think that’s reaching?” It had occurred to Katie too, but she pushed it aside. Why would anyone want to hurt her?
“Maybe. But what if I’m not reaching?”
“Thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself.” She saw McGaven’s expression become clouded and trou
bled. “Gav, I’ll be careful—just in case.”
He nodded.
Katie and McGaven spent more time going over notes and lists, and made a few phone calls.
Katie was anxious, her eyes weary, and she wanted to get out into some fresh air to keep moving and recharge her energy levels. She turned to McGaven who had stopped typing on the keyboard and seemed to have closed his eyes for a moment.
“Okay, that’s it.”
“What?” he said, startled.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So, that doesn’t really mean anything when working a homicide?”
“This has been a really tiresome week already. And I’m declaring…”
McGaven waited for what she would say.
“Coffee, lots of good coffee and some food too—maybe even junk food.” She stood up, slipping on her jacket. “You coming?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He stood up, stretching his back.
“Grab the Trenton file with the interview with the neighbor—Mrs. Caldwell. Let’s go pay her a visit.”
“Yep, will do. It’s shaping up to be a great day now we’re getting coffee and a road trip!”
After a quick stop for coffee and bagels with everything on top, Katie felt much better and wanted to get her mind straight about the Trenton and Jane Doe case.
She took a sharp turn too fast, but straightened out the sedan, and sped down the road heading to Raven Woods once again.
“Where’s the fire?” asked McGaven, as he was reading the interview of the neighbor. He balanced his coffee and paperwork impressively on his lap.
“There’s a fire somewhere right now—I guarantee it.”
“Maybe, but I would like to make it to Mrs. Caldwell’s house alive.”
Pretty Broken Dolls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with mystery and suspense (Detective Katie Scott Book 6) Page 16
