“I know the cases are difficult, but we are moving nearer to a closure.” He dipped another French fry into catsup. “It always feels like this in the middle of wading through everything—trying to figure out what’s pertinent and what isn’t. It’s the game we play.”
“It’s true.”
McGaven looked at his watch. “We should probably head over to the bank.”
The First Community Bank of Pine Valley was a medium-sized bank located in the main part of town and was a popular place for most of the local residents. Darla Winchell had worked for them for six years, working her way up from a teller to an executive, handling business accounts.
Katie and McGaven entered the bank and hovered around the entrance trying to figure out where to go to meet with the president. The security guard immediately spotted them and made his way over to greet them. Katie opened her jacket to reveal her badge. He made a waving gesture with his hand, indicating he understood, and went back to his post.
Katie saw the various desks behind partitions and walked over to ask if she could meet with Michael Raines, the president of the branch. A young woman wearing a burgundy dress went to alert Mr. Raines that two police detectives wanted to talk with him.
They didn’t have to wait long. A serious-looking, dark-haired man wearing glasses and a dark suit with a red tie headed toward them. He moved with purpose and projected an all-business attitude.
“Hello, I’m Michael Raines, the president of the bank.”
“I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven.”
“Pleased to meet you both,” he said and shook their hands. “Let’s talk in my office.”
They followed him through an area where there were four desks. The employees looked at Katie and McGaven with some interest, but mostly concern.
The big corner office was where they were headed. It was sparsely decorated, with a large desk, comfortable leather chair, and two smaller chairs for customers to sit down.
As soon as they were seated, Katie began.
“Mr. Raines, thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
“You said it had to do with Darla Winchell.”
Katie shifted in her chair, knowing she would not only have to break the news of a death, but of a brutal murder. “Yes. I’m sorry to inform you that Ms. Winchell is dead.”
He sucked in a gasp. “What?” he whispered. “Dead? But you are detectives so that means… she was murdered?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” There was never an easy way to break the news. It always sounded harsher than it needed to be under such trying situations. “I am so sorry to have to share such horrible news about one of your employees.”
“Oh my… how?”
“We’re not able to discuss any details at the moment,” she said. “It’s an active investigation.”
“Of course. What can I do to help?” he said, obviously upset. His mind was clearly reeling from the news.
“We would like to ask a few questions about Darla. If that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll try to answer if I can.” He looked back and forth from Katie to McGaven and then settled on Katie.
“How would you characterize Darla’s work here?”
“She was what every employer dreams of. I mean that. She was one of those employees that always wanted to learn more, strive more, and move up whenever she could.” He paused a moment to gather his thoughts, as if it had really sunk in that she was dead. “Whenever there were classes— whether it was better ways to work with co-workers or new computer systems in dealing with business accounts—she was the first to sign up.”
“Did she ever confide in you that something was bothering her at work? Like another employee or a customer?”
“No, never. But I’m not the best person to ask, being her boss. Some of the other employees would be better suited to answer that question.” He leaned back in his oversized chair. “I know that she was close with Daniel Harper; he’s in charge of new accounts and investments.”
“Is he here today?” asked McGaven.
“Yes.”
“Just a couple more questions and then we’d like to speak with him, too,” said Katie.
As Mr. Raines waited, he tapped his right index finger on the arm of the chair.
Katie thought he was holding something back. She was curious and suddenly remembered what John had said about the killer receiving an injury to the right index finger. “Mr. Raines, can you show us your hands?”
He looked confused, but slowly moved his hands forward with his fingers and palms facing upwards for Katie and McGaven to see. There was no indication of any injuries.
“Thank you,” she said, changing tack quickly to hide her disappointment. “Did you ever have to reprimand Darla for anything?”
The president appeared to think about it. “No, I don’t think so. She is… was one of my best employees… and I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I would suggest informing your employees so that they don’t hear it from some other source. Please give them time to grieve and whatever support they need. Everyone is different.” Katie made sure that the president understood.
“Yes. We have a company that helps with crisis situations and I will have them be available to anyone that needs it.”
Katie felt relief wash over her. “That’s wonderful. Would it be possible to speak with Daniel Harper?”
“Uh, yes. Please stay. I’ll bring him in and you can use my office.”
The president left the office and Katie waited until the door was closed and he was out of view.
“What do you think?” she said in a low tone.
“He’s genuinely shocked. We’ve seen it many times, but did I detect some deception?”
“I caught that too. He was too nervous, but that could have something to do with things going on in his own life—not with Darla.”
“True. There’s a high percentage of nervousness among people who interact with police.”
“Daniel Harper,” she said. “I didn’t see any photos in the apartment or her parents’ home with him. Is that odd? Or maybe she didn’t want to be reminded of him.”
“We’ll just see what he has to say.”
The president returned with a man in his early thirties, dark wavy hair, suit and tie without the jacket. His eyes were wide and he was obviously confused about why he was being ushered to the president’s office to talk to police.
“Detectives? This is Daniel Harper.” He held the door for the man. “Nice meeting you both.” He shut the door and disappeared again.
“I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven. Please have a seat.”
He sat hesitantly in the president’s chair, looking uncomfortable. “What’s this all about?” he said in a quiet voice.
“I’m sorry. This is always difficult,” she said. “I’m sorry to tell you that Darla Winchell is dead.”
“What? Dead? How? When?” His voice became an octave higher as his eyes darted from one detective to the other.
“She was found murdered.”
“Murdered… what… what happened? Did you catch the person?”
“The case is currently under investigation so we are not able to give you details, but we wanted to get some background information from you. Is that okay? You up to it?”
“Uh, yes, of course. I… can’t believe she’s gone.” His eyes welled up with tears, but he was holding them back.
“What was your relationship with Darla?”
“We were friends and co-workers.”
“Did you date?” asked Katie, watching him closely.
“Well… yes, technically, we did.”
“What does ‘technically’ mean?” said McGaven.
“When we first met about six years ago, we flirted a lot and we went out a few times.”
“And?”
“And we felt we are better as good friends,” he said, not making eye contact.
Katie leaned forward. “Mr.
Harper, I can see you have feelings for her. Anyone can see that you have feelings for her.”
“So? It’s not a crime.”
“I take it that Darla was the one suggesting that the two of you be just friends.”
“Yes.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“What do you mean? I was upset but I got over it. You don’t think I…”
“Mr. Harper, we’re trying to piece together her life and timeline before the murder to figure out who might have wanted to harm her.”
“I can’t imagine…” He couldn’t finish his sentence.
McGaven shifted in his chair, moving it closer to the man. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Darla? Someone she had trouble with?”
“No. I can’t think of anyone. She is… was… a great person and everyone loved her.”
“Did she ever confide in you about something or someone that was bothering her?”
Daniel Harper thought for a moment. “No, I can’t think of anything. That’s what makes this so incredibly heartbreaking.”
“Mr. Harper, here’s my card.” She handed him a business card. “If you think of anything—
anything at all that might help us—please call me.”
He took the card and put it in his top pocket. “Of course.” He stood up.
Daniel Harper? D.H.
“Oh, just a couple more things. Could I see your hands, please?” He held them out before him, mystified. There was no injury to be seen. “Thank you. And did you ever send Darla emails?”
“Sure.”
“Did you ever sign them ‘DH’?”
He thought about the question and shrugged. “I don’t think so. Sometimes if I sent her a quick message, I might just sign it ‘D’. I don’t remember.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Harper. We appreciate your time.”
He rose and then quickly left the office.
McGaven looked at her.
“I just had to ask.”
“You think he’s the one who sent that email?”
“No. But we have to run down all the leads.”
“I’ll run background of the employees to see if anything pops up.”
“But, Gav, it is a coincidence. Someone who was close to Darla but wanted to be more just good friends, whose initials just happen to match up to our emailer?”
“I see your point.”
You know what you did. You can’t take it back. The finale is coming.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Thursday 1635 hours
After interviewing Mrs. Winchell and Daniel Harper, Katie felt there was more beyond their answers to her initial questions; she felt they were telling the truth, but not offering up any other information.
She added to the board the new persons of interest and case characteristics for Darla Winchell:
DH left threatening emails/harassment. Was she hiding it? Is DH Daniel Harper?
Daniel Harper—boyfriend to friend. He wanted more.
*Spent 2 years in army as military K9 handler.
“I keep coming back to the military K9 aspect,” she said. “How could we not? I’ll call Sergeant Serrano about the list of names and ask him about Darla Winchell as well.”
McGaven turned and said, “Well, I have good news.”
“Oh great.”
“I have two lists from the fairgrounds,” he said and fished out the papers from the printer.
“Let’s see,” said Katie as her mood began to elevate.
“I also have bad news. On the more general list, I have a little over three hundred names. The more specific searches turned up seventy-nine names.”
Katie read down the shorter list but not one name even made her pause. She sighed. “What are the asterisks for?”
“An arrest report.”
“Track those down.” She handed the list back to him.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
There was a soft knock at the door. It opened and Denise poked her head in, “Knock, knock.”
“Hi, Denise,” said Katie. She was like a breath of fresh air, always upbeat.
Denise stepped inside. Her arms were loaded with two file folders.
“Hey, babe,” said McGaven. His face was a bit flushed with embarrassment due to the fact that Denise was his girlfriend.
“Oh, what do you have for us?” said Katie, eyeing the paperwork.
“Well, this is for Gav.” She put down the bulging paperwork on his desk.
He picked up it, pretending to shake it.
“No, silly. I copied some articles about fair and amusement park stories. Here you go.”
“Wow, you got all these?” he said, amazed.
“Denise can do anything,” said Katie.
“I wish. I found the subject matter on this site that specializes in out-of-date and difficult-to-find articles.” She handed Katie the other folder. “This is for you. I searched through newspapers, internet sites, and circus and fairgrounds newsletters.”
“They have newsletters for circuses?” McGaven said.
“Now you know,” said Katie. She opened the file and began thumbing through. There were articles included about accidents, famous people visiting, creative features for amusement park rides, and other miscellaneous topics that proved interesting enough to be written about. “Thank you. This is great stuff. Eye-opening.”
“Look at the back section. I filed articles pertaining to the local fairgrounds here in Sequoia County. Did you know it’s haunted?” she laughed.
“Great. Like our job isn’t difficult enough. Now we have to add a ghost as a suspect,” said Katie.
“That’s cool,” said McGaven. “Any murders?”
“One.”
“Really?’
“A woman was brutally raped and murdered. The case was solved—the son of one of the maintenance workers did it. But I thought it was worth including in the stack.”
“Thank you. You have a knack for finding information.”
“My pleasure. It adds a little fun to my boring days in records.” She blew McGaven a kiss. “See you later.”
“Bye.”
“Is it me or does she just keep getting cuter?” said McGaven.
Katie laughed. “I know. Does she ever have a bad day?”
“That was her bad day.”
Katie opened the file and began organizing the articles. Some were a year old and the oldest went back forty years. They were interesting to say the least, but the more she filtered through them, the more she began to feel like she might be looking for a needle in a haystack. But she pressed on, reading headlines and skimming articles, looking for anything that might break the investigation.
Katie’s cell phone buzzed with a text. She hoped it was John saying he had some news.
It read: Dead and gone. Now the house is going too.
The text was from Sadie Caldwell.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Thursday 1815 hours
Katie and McGaven raced to Raven Woods to meet up with Sadie Caldwell after notifying the police department, fire, and the county mental health services. They didn’t know what they would find, but made it to Fox Hunt Drive in record time.
As soon as Katie turned down the usually quiet road, they were greeted with the flashing lights of the first responders as smoke billowed from the house.
“She did it,” said Katie, breaking the silence.
“She killed Jeanine Trenton?” asked McGaven.
“No. She burned the house to get rid of the voices.” She sighed. “I should’ve informed health services to do a welfare check.”
“You didn’t know that she was capable of arson.”
“I feel bad for her, you know? With the homicide investigation aside, I think there should be some type of investigation into her previous workplace.”
“That will go over well,” he said with emphasized sarcasm.
Katie parked a few houses away from the scene. She and McGaven hurried
to the person in charge, which was the fire captain.
“How bad is it?” asked Katie, watching the firefighters continue to shoot water into the windows. “Sorry—Detective Scott, PV Sheriff’s Department.”
He looked at her badge. “Nothing left. As soon as the smoke subsides, it will be just a shell. She started it with gasoline and a lighter.”
Katie looked at him.
“She left everything in the backyard. All the evidence is there for the fire inspector.”
“Where is she?”
He pointed to the front porch of her house.
Katie looked at McGaven and they both went to see Sadie.
The woman was sitting on the porch step as one of the deputies stood nearby. “I told you… I told you,” she kept murmuring, wringing her hands.
“Sadie,” said Katie as she sat down next to her. “What happened?”
“Thank you for coming, Detective Scott. Thank you… thank you…”
“Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“I knew you wouldn’t want me to do it, but I had to get rid of it. Bad things there… such bad things.” Her face had softened as if she were a little girl watching the flames and smoke.
“Sadie, do you know who killed Jeanine?”
“Such bad people… they are everywhere… they tell me things… dead and gone.”
“Sadie, look at me,” Katie said softly. “Sadie.”
The woman turned and looked her in the eye.
“Did you see who killed Jeanine?”
She took a deep breath. “It was dark. He was dressed dark. There were no screams.”
Katie glanced up at McGaven, who stood staring down at them.
“Had you ever seen the man before?”
“No man, no woman, bad things…”
Katie saw two county mental health officials approaching—a man and woman. “Sadie, I want you to do me a favor. Okay?”
She nodded.
“I want you to go with these nice people.”
“Is it okay? They aren’t those people?”
“No, they are good people. They want to help you.”
“Good,” she said and stood up. Looking at the mental health professionals, she said, “Detective Scott says you’re okay.”
Pretty Broken Dolls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with mystery and suspense (Detective Katie Scott Book 6) Page 21
