Pretty Broken Dolls by Jennifer Chase

Chapter Ten

Tuesday 1145 hours

Katie had been calling to talk to Agent Campbell, but he didn’t answer, so she placed a call to the administrative assistant at his headquarters in Sacramento who said he was still in Pine Valley.

“I have his cell number, but there has been no answer. Can you give me the address where he’s staying?” She eyed McGaven with a look of uncertainty. “Oh, you can. Please. Yes. I know it. Room number? Thank you.” She ended the call.

* * *

McGaven drove toward the downtown area of Pine Valley.

“I’m a bit confused,” Katie said.

“Confused? That’s not a part of Katie Scott’s genetic makeup.”

She smiled. “No. It seems that Agent Campbell is staying at the Hobson Inn & Suites in Pine Valley.”

Cisco barked suddenly from the back seat as they passed a cluster of pine trees with birds flying around.

“Isn’t that a weekly place?”

“That’s why I’m surprised. Why would he give us all of these cold case files and then stay here? Seems a bit off.”

“Time off?”

“Maybe.” Katie watched the landscape whizz by her window. “No… there’s something else.”

“You’re still angry?”

“I don’t like being played. And that’s what this feels like. You aren’t forgetting about the gas, are you?”

“That’s what I mean. You’re still pissed off.”

“Aren’t you?”

McGaven didn’t say anything, but it was clear to her that he too was definitely angry about what had happened.

McGaven eased the sedan into a parking place at the Hobson Inn & Suites. They both sat for a moment staring at the inn. It comprised two large, dark-brown buildings, each with two stories, nestled in the trees. Even though the sun was shining, the motel crouched in the shade with lights illuminating the path towards it. It was a clean and tidy-looking building with only a half dozen cars parked.

“Ready?” said McGaven.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Room?”

“Two-one-two.”

“Let’s go,” he said and opened the car door.

“Wait,” Katie said. “I can’t let Cisco stay in the car any longer.”

“Bring him.”

“Cisco, hier,” she commanded.

The dog jumped out, padded up next to her and waited. His ears perked up as he took in the surroundings.

“Hope Agent Campbell likes dogs…” said McGaven, more to himself than Katie, as he followed her and Cisco to the second level, quickly reading the room numbers.

They stood in front of room 212, pausing a moment.

Katie strained to hear any sound coming from the room but there was nothing, not even the television or a phone conversation.

She knocked twice.

Nothing.

She knocked twice again—this time louder. She was beginning to think that he wasn’t there and they were going to have to come back later.

The door opened. Special Agent Dane Campbell stood in the doorway dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt—his perfectly combed blond hair was now messy. He looked more like someone who hung out at the beach than a special agent.

Campbell didn’t seem surprised to see the three of them staring back. “What took you so long?” he said with an even tone and opened the door wider. He never blinked twice as Cisco entered with them.

Katie had thought about all the things she wanted to say to him, but when she walked into his one-bedroom suite she was stunned.

“Whoa,” said McGaven as he looked around.

There were photographs of each of the three crime scenes organized in sections attached to the wall, along with detailed file notes including locations, maps, and every devisable means of escape imaginable. Reports were notated in specific colors, and certain details were highlighted. There were names and photos of people who were of interest in the case. There was different handwriting from all the investigators and police officers who had worked the cases.

“What is this?” she said.

Cisco took his cue from Katie’s hand gesture to take up a comfortable position and jumped up into an upholstered chair.

“Detective, you don’t recognize an investigation?” he said with some sarcasm.

“That’s not what I mean. What. Is. All. This?” She gestured to the three computers, running what looked to her like surveillance equipment—it was clear that this case was part of something much more complex than he had led them to believe. One of the cameras was monitoring the Raven Woods house. “This is too much. We need some answers.”

The special agent watched her with interest.

“Is that us?” asked McGaven who had been reviewing all the photos on the walls. “That’s at the Stanton property.” There were several photos of Katie close up.

“And why was there a video camera at the Raven Woods house? Why are you spying on us? You just asked for our help, but this has all been a…” She couldn’t think of the right description. “Scam.”

“Detective, this isn’t a scam or a set-up or whatever you think. Let me explain.”

“No. I’m calling the sheriff to get off this case. This is total BS.”

“Please, let me explain.”

Katie slowly lowered her cell phone against her better judgment. “Go ahead.”

McGaven joined her and waited for the agent to clarify.

“Yes, we’ve been watching you for a while, but it’s not what you think. You need to understand that these cases have been through a thorough investigation by many seasoned detectives, including myself—and I haven’t been able to find any leads for months.” He paused. “I needed to find the right people to work these cases. Someone who had a proven record, who understood more about these killers than most. You have been in several articles and on the news for solving several cold cases. You know how to work a crime scene, but some of your methods are a bit unconventional.”

“What about the FBI? Profilers? I don’t have the experience you need. I’ve only worked a handful of cold homicide cases so far,” she said. “You could have just asked, instead of this shadow operation.”

“This is more information than we’re used to working with,” said McGaven.

“The FBI and most homicide detectives have all been trained the same way—to put serial killers in certain categories. A white male between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-five—it makes us jaded, for the most part.”

“Look, I don’t feel comfortable with all of this and how it has transpired. And I haven’t heard how these cases are even linked—with the exception of the way the victims are posed, the heavy makeup and the jewelry left behind.”

“I know. If I were in your shoes, I would probably feel the same way.”

“And, I don’t have to work these cases.”

“Yes, you do,” the agent said. “You know you do because it’s in your spirit—and it’s your job.”

McGaven turned his attention to the special agent.

Katie was annoyed as well as confused. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She glanced at her partner and he seemed to be uncomfortable as well.

Katie looked at the video of the house in Raven Woods and realized it was live. “You knew we were there,” she said and gestured to the computer screen. “You lured us to the house where we could have died from gas inhalation.”

“No, that’s not true. I knew you would go there, but I knew nothing about the gas. I swear.”

“Show us the footage of when we were there,” she demanded. “Now.”

Cisco moved to Katie’s side, sensing her mood change.

“Fine. You’re not going to see anything that’s useful or identifiable.” He keyed up a few coordinates and found the correct section of the recording. They watched a person in a hooded sweatshirt approach the house, keeping their face away from the camera. It was unclear if the person continued onto the property or not.

“I had no way of knowing that this person would release gas into the house. It wasn’t until later when I saw the firefighters and ambulances that I knew something was wrong. There was nothing that I could do. We’d put the camera there to protect the area and just in case the killer came back.”

Katie watched the video again and it was true that the person was not identifiable. She turned away from the computer and took a closer look at the three homicides depicted so carefully on the wall. Looking at the faces of the people of interest, she noticed that some of them were in military clothing. Then she saw the close-up photos of her that must have been taken at her home and on her running trail.

“You’ve been following me for a while,” she said, holding her anger in but feeling the creepiness of the entire situation.

“Like I explained, I had to be sure.”

“To make sure that I could be trusted? Really?”

“I don’t recall ever reading anything about stalking a fellow officer being a recognized job interview tactic,” chimed McGaven.

“Look,” said Campbell. “I understand how you both feel. But, I now know more than ever that you both are the perfect detectives for the job.”

“Your flattery is a little too late,” said Katie, as she made to leave.

“Wait,” the agent said and gently took hold of her arm.

Cisco growled.

“It’s okay,” she said to the dog.

Katie and McGaven headed to the door.

“There’s more to the investigations that you don’t know. At least, not yet.”

Katie sighed as her patience waned. “What is it?”

Campbell leaned against the desk. “Hear me out.”

Katie waited.

“We have been able to find a link between all the victims. It was actually accidental and one of the junior detectives stumbled on it. It seems that all three victims were in the military for a short time. Even though they were all different ages, they have one thing in common.”

“Being a homicide victim.” Katie didn’t hide her cynicism.

Campbell ignored her crass comment. “No, they were all part of the K9 military training program.” He gestured to Cisco. “There were a total of eight women in the program.”

“Are you sure?” she said slowly. Feeling a rush of heat and a slight prickle up her arms and down her spine, she steadied herself. She had never thought she would have something in common with a homicide victim, much less these three victims. It changed her outlook and now she wanted to solve the crimes more than ever.

“Positive.”

Katie paused, looking back at the crime scene photographs.

“Were they all handlers?”

“Two were handlers like you—Nancy Day and Gwen Sanderson. Jeanine Trenton was a kennel manager and dog trainer.”

Katie moved closer to the wall and took a longer look at everything. “So the military is the common thread?”

“That was one of the reasons why I thought you would be the perfect person to work these cases—with your military background in the same area as these women. Not to mention your success rate of cold cases.”

“We didn’t see any of this information in the boxes.”

“No,” he said and walked over to a desk, where he retrieved a flash drive. “Here. Everything we have is on there.”

“Not in the boxes?”

“Just in case some paperwork gets misfiled.”

Katie turned to McGaven who had been riveted to the new information just as much as she was. She gave him the look—he knew what she was asking and nodded in agreement.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” she said.

Campbell hesitated.

“These cases are about a year apart. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“So that would mean this last case here in Pine Valley at the fairgrounds is on schedule?”

“Detective, you are very astute. That’s why it’s been important to have another set of eyes on these cases.”

“While we wait for forensics and an ID to come in, we would need to re-examine everything on the Jeanine Trenton case—the autopsy, forensics, and reports. Everything. No restrictions.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect any less. In fact, I look forward to your assessments.”

“Is everything about the victims’ experiences with military K9 on this flash drive?” she asked. “I know the training facility here in California. Get us the clearance and information we need about the victims so we can talk to them.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“No. That’s not good enough.” She glanced at McGaven, who she knew was on the same page as her. “Get us access and clearance to speak with the master trainer and the commanding officer.” She walked up to the photos of each woman and studied them again. It struck her with angst that she had something of significance in common with them. Emotions were stirred up inside her about these cases and, sensing her anxiety, Cisco stepped up closer to her.

“I’ll make some calls, ask some favors, and get back to you before tomorrow,” he said. His expression changed a bit, showing more respect, as he watched Katie.

Katie looked to McGaven, the investigative wall, and then back to Campbell. “We’re in.”