Pretty Broken Dolls by Jennifer Chase

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday 0745 hours

Katie looked forward to visiting the military dog training facility in Sacramento. It was where she had received her preliminary training for six weeks before she traveled to Afghanistan for the final advanced training with Cisco. To Katie’s surprise, Agent Campbell came through for them and they were granted entry to view the facility and to speak with Sergeant Anthony Serrano. Katie drove there with purpose and high expectations of what they might uncover. Looking through most of the flash drive yesterday, it was becoming clearer that the K9 angle took center stage. That realization made the motive of the killer hit close to home for her.

“Thinking about your training?” said McGaven, interrupting her thoughts.

“It seems like such a long time ago. So many things have happened since then. But the training was memorable.”

“Good or bad?”

“Mostly good. Everything turned out great, of course, but it was tough—actually, very tough at times. It would have been easy to wash out.”

“I wonder if our vics had the same experience?”

Taking a turn off the freeway, Katie sped up to make several traffic lights. “Everyone was on the same page on how demanding it was, but just at different levels of training.”

She turned down a road where a sign read: “Military Training Area.” She slowed the sedan and drove into the civilian entrance where there was a booth and a heavy gate. Signs were posted everywhere stating, “Warning: No Admittance and Only Military Personnel Beyond this Point.” Nothing could be seen of the facility—not the buildings, nor the dog-training areas. It was like a prison institution, with tall, impenetrable walls.

“I feel like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be,” said McGaven as he searched the area.

“Most people don’t know that dog training is performed here.”

Katie pulled up to the security booth as a military police officer gestured for her to stop.

She put down her window. “I’m Detective Katie Scott from the PV Sheriff’s Department. We have an appointment with Sergeant Serrano.” She handed the officer her badge identification along with McGaven’s. He disappeared for several minutes before returning and giving Katie back the IDs.

“Here are your ID passes,” he said, handing her two laminated visitor passes. “Be sure to check your weapons and leave them in the trunk before entering the facility. Go straight and make the second right. Follow the signs for the K9 training until you reach the main office.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “Ma’am.”

The gate lifted and Katie slowly drove through and followed the instructions.

As she made the second right and headed toward the K9 training area, they could see chain-link fencing with razor wire and several large buildings and kennel areas. She followed the signs and everything became familiar to her. She remembered arriving by bus with the other recruits. It was an exciting time and she would never forget the first time she met Cisco.

* * *

She walked through the long line of kennels, the walls ringing with the echo of barking dogs, jumping and pawing their doors on both sides. There were many German and Czech shepherds and Belgian Malinois breeds. An extra-loud banging at the end of the row piqued Katie’s curiosity and she moved closer. She saw a dark face staring back at her when she approached. A black face with yellow wolf eyes and an expression of pure drive and curiosity gazed back at her. The dog barked and banged his paw against the door. She couldn’t keep her eyes away from him as she slowly put her hand against the kennel door. Cisco gently licked her palm. At that moment, she knew he was the dog she wanted to train and to ultimately become her partner.

“I don’t think you want him. He’s washed out with two handlers,” said the trainer. “Not sure what we’re going to do with him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Cisco.”

The beautiful jet-black dog barked as if it was an introduction.

“He’s the one,” said Katie as she moved closer to the kennel. “He’s the one I want to work with.”

* * *

Katie felt a flutter in her stomach as she remembered her first meeting with Cisco and their first day of training—rocky at best. The ups, downs, and the complete rush of feelings when they breezed through the obstacle courses and scent work. But as time went on, they proved to be one of the top military explosives K9 teams.

She pulled into a visitor’s parking place and cut the engine.

“You ready?” she said. It was more for herself than McGaven. Emotions and memories from her time training were flooding back to her and she needed a moment to compose herself.

“You bet.”

They got out of the vehicle, taking their weapons and securing them in the trunk as instructed.

Clipping her visitor’s pass to her jacket and making sure she had her small notebook, she walked to the office area, followed by McGaven.

Several recruits were walking about and as they moved closer to the check-in desk, dogs could be heard barking.

Katie felt goosebumps pimple up her arms and part of her wanted to be back out in the training area. It was where her skills were constantly being pushed to another level and it was where her bond with Cisco was formed.

Katie reached the check-in desk staffed by three military men. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” One of the men eyed her visitor’s badge as well as her detective badge.

“I’m looking for Sergeant Serrano.”

“And you are?”

“Detective Scott.”

He nodded and went into a back office where he picked up a phone. She couldn’t hear what he said, but he glanced back at her and McGaven several times.

He returned. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“Thank you,” she said. Looking out the window she saw several training areas where agility courses were set up with jumps, box tunnels, and ladders, both vertical and horizontal. There was another larger training section behind a chain-link fence in the distance.

Within five minutes, a tall, slender, dark-haired man approached. He had the usual crew-cut hair and serious pace. He sported dark sunglasses.

“Detective Scott?” he asked.

“Yes. And this is my partner Deputy McGaven.”

“Nice to meet you both,” he said and shook their hands.

“I appreciate your time,” she said.

“Not a problem. Today is a slower day. Besides, I’m happy that I can possibly help with your homicide investigations.” He opened a gate and gestured. “Please, this way. You’ll be able to see the layout of the outside training facility.”

“Well…” Katie stammered. “I’ve actually been here and was a part of the training program.”

Sergeant Serrano smiled. “I’m quite aware of who you are.”

Katie turned to him, surprised.

“I’ve been briefed by Special Agent Campbell and Sheriff Scott. Campbell sent over the names of the recruits.”

“I see,” she said, trying to compose herself, before she dove right into the questions she really wanted to ask. “I noticed that there are fewer training teams than in my time. Is that true?”

Katie and the sergeant watched four separate K9 teams run through obedience drills one at a time.

“Your assessment is correct. Our intake has become smaller. Partly due to budget.”

“Really? I remember that there were quite a few people wanting to be in the training program. It’s difficult to get chosen.”

They continued walking past the training areas.

“The truth is, the government has pulled resources and the competition is fierce for the few positions.” Serrano opened another gate and waited for them to walk through."

“From everything I’ve read, aren’t these K9 teams extremely effective in maneuvers, bomb recovery, and even terrorist retrieval?” said McGaven.

“Absolutely.”

“But it’s political,” said Katie.

"Also, many military branches are now overloaded with older and retired canines that the handlers can’t or won’t take. It poses a whole host of other problems—even though there are civilian rescues and independents that take retired military dogs. Just not enough. So as you probably know, it puts this type of training in the political arena.”

“I see. I was very lucky to bring Cisco home. Actually, Sheriff Scott was instrumental in his homecoming.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said and took a moment to observe Katie.

“We wanted to know anything that you could tell us about our victims. We know that one connection between the women is that they were all involved with the K9 military unit. Two were handlers and the most recent was a trainer and kennel manager.”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m only aware of two of them. The first, Nancy Day, was before my time here, which has been a little over three years now.”

“What can you tell me about Gwen Sanderson and Jeanine Trenton?”

The sergeant paused a moment as they watched a decoy and attack procedure in progress with a sable German shepherd.

Katie sensed that he was hesitant about giving personal information. She gently pushed some specific questions, hoping to get some insight. “Sergeant, were they at the top of the class? Did they pose any problems? Any disciplinary actions? Or did anyone have any problems with them?”

“Gwen Sanderson was good. She had all the right skills, but she lacked the discipline. My biggest concern was that she would not be able to handle the extreme conditions once out in combat.”

“Did she work well with a group or team?”

“Most of the time. Let’s just say she had to be reminded.” He watched another dog team as the handler released a tan Malinois.

“Sergeant, I know you are limited in what you can tell us—that there’s a fine line between military inquiries and local law enforcement investigations—but rest assured that we are trying to learn as much about these women—these victims—as we can, so that we can begin to understand why they were butchered and left like a prop in a sadistic play.” She tried to appeal to his sense of duty.

The sergeant turned to face Katie and McGaven. It was clear he was struggling with military ethics, or something more personal, but he seemed to relax. “I was told that I couldn’t give you any official paperwork, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you an opinion or names. So ask.”

Katie decided to keep her questions short and to the point. “Did Gwen Sanderson ever have any discipline problems?”

“No.”

“Was she here at the same time as Jeanine Trenton?”

“Yes.”

“Did she ever complain that someone was bothering or harassing her?”

“No.”

“Did she graduate from the training?”

“Yes.”

“Jeanine Trenton.” As she began, she noticed the sergeant light up. “You knew Jeanine Trenton?”

“Yes.”

“I understand she was a dog trainer.”

“Yes. She was very competent and had some experience before applying for the position. She put in her tour here at the kennels as a trainer. She had the opportunity to be a handler abroad, but she turned it down.”

“Was she ever written up for any disciplinary issue?”

“No.”

“Did she confide in you or someone else that anyone was harassing or bothering her?”

The sergeant hesitated.

“Please, Sergeant, anything might be helpful to us.” Katie had the distinct feeling that the sergeant knew Jeanine Trenton more than just as a fellow army officer.

“Since she was a trainer, she encountered all types coming through this training facility. Both men and women.”

Katie noticed the tension in his words. “What are the average numbers of recruits dropping from the program?”

McGaven kept quiet, allowing his partner to take the lead in interviewing the sergeant. He decided to venture away from Katie, watching the training.

“Average?”

She nodded.

“About twenty percent—give or take. It’s for a variety of reasons, as you probably know, from recruits not liking what training is really like to personality clashes with both personnel and canines.”

“Sergeant, I’m getting the impression that you knew Jeanine Trenton on a more personal level. Can you tell me what your relationship with her was?” She watched him closely.

His jaw clenched and he averted Katie’s gaze. “I admit. I liked Jeanine. She was a hard worker and had an exceptional way with the dogs—something that you can’t teach.”

Katie listened.

“We went out a few times socially, but she became distant. I tried to get her to confide in me, but she wouldn’t.”

“Your thoughts about what would make her distant?”

“I got the impression that it was something with the training—someone who was bothering her—or worse. She began to hold back and not be as committed as she was before. She still did her job, but it was like her heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

“Anything else?” Katie pushed.

He shook his head and wouldn’t open up.

She reached into her pocket and retrieved a business card. “Here’s my card and my direct cell number. Please call me anytime if you remember anything.”

He took it and popped it into his pocket. “Thank you. I’m sorry that you are burdened with these murders, but I’m glad that you’re the one working them.”

Katie blinked, not quite knowing what to say in response. She still felt that he knew more than he was letting on, but perhaps a little more time would be what the sergeant needed to confide in her.

“Do you have a moment? I would like to show you something,” he said.

“Sure.”

Katie made a gesture to McGaven who had been chatting with one of the trainers. He caught up to Katie and the sergeant and they walked into one of the buildings, housing several classrooms and storage areas.

As they reached a long hallway lined with bulletins, training lists, and photos, the sergeant stopped and turned to them. “I thought you’d like to see some of the best alumni K9 teams that we felt deserved special attention.” He smiled and indicated some of the photos.

“Wow,” said McGaven studying each one. “Private First Class Katherine Scott and K9 Cisco. Great photos. I think I like you in army fatigues.” He smiled.

Katie stepped up and saw photos of her training with Cisco. More memories flooded back. She remembered those days like they were yesterday. Cisco had been difficult at first, but then they managed to get over his initial hard-headedness and became a great team. Then there was the photo of her and Cisco when they had graduated and were headed to Afghanistan. It was like stepping into a time machine.

“Look, she’s speechless,” said McGaven.

“It brings back so many memories.” She turned to the sergeant. “Thank you for showing me these photos.”

“Of course. I just wish I’d been here during your training, but I was working at the K9 facility in San Diego.”

“We won’t take up any more of your time, Sergeant,” she said. “I meant it: if you think of anything about Gwen Sanderson or Jeanine Trenton, please call me.”

“I will, Detective.”

Sergeant Serrano watched Katie and McGaven leave.

* * *

Once back at the police sedan, Katie and McGaven retrieved their weapons before exiting the military training facility. They had more than a two-hour drive back to Pine Valley.

As Katie drove through the security area, McGaven said, “What do you think?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Oh, I think you have an idea.”

“Maybe.”

“C’mon, tell me.”

“I don’t have solid proof, but I think it’s fairly obvious that Sergeant Serrano was having a more serious relationship with Jeanine Trenton that he let on—based on the way he spoke about her.”

“And?”

“And, did you notice that they video some of the training?”

“I didn’t see them doing that today.”

“They usually video when the training is coming to an end—and you’re either going to graduate or wash out.”

“I see where you’re going with this.”

“We need to see any video with Gwen Sanderson and Jeanine Trenton,” she said. “I’ll contact Agent Campbell.”

“Don’t forget about the first vic—Nancy Day.”

“On it,” she said. Inserting her cell phone in the car holder, she ordered from her hands free device, “Dial Agent Dane Campbell.”

You’re either going to graduate or wash out…