Pretty Broken Dolls by Jennifer Chase

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 administrative 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.”

“Yes. She was like a nurse’s aide and was responsible for many things. She would jump in if someone was late or didn’t show up. Unfortunately, we have a high turnover of staff here.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, the pay is low and it’s not very glamorous. Since we are a community health facility that means many times we don’t get paid for services, and that means we are understaffed and without everything we need. But we manage to get by every month.” She patted the pile of files on her desk.

“Did Ms. Trenton ever confide in you about something or someone that she was having difficulty with?”

Director Norton’s face tightened and she hesitated.

“Please keep in mind I’ve read all the interviews and police reports, so there’s nothing that I haven’t been made aware of,” Katie gently reminded her. “I just want to hear from you—from your personal experience.”

“Well… there was a group of nurses that were abusive to Jeanine. They constantly belittled and undermined her, even though she was an amazing worker.”

“Did she ever discuss it with you?”

“No, she was quiet and took it. It was obvious, but she loved it here. She wanted to help. You know she could have worked anywhere, but she wanted to help the needy.”

Katie made a couple of notes. Her impression of Jeanine Trenton changed a bit as she listened to the director describe her.

“But most of the girls are gone now. I think she was waiting them out.”

“Did she ever talk about her time in the army?”

“Not much. I knew about it, of course, through her application, but she didn’t say much. Although thinking about it, I do remember she mentioned it once and her eyes would light up when she spoke about the dogs.”

“Did anyone ever talk to her about it?”

“Not that I know of.”

Katie was hoping for more information, but she had a clearer picture of who Jeanine was and knew that she would have probably really liked her.

“What’s the matter, Detective?” asked Director Norton as if she sensed Katie’s slight frown.

“Jeanine sounded like a very nice person, a hard worker, well liked—with the exception of a few women here at the time…”

“That’s a fair assessment.”

“I know there’s something I’m missing.”

“Such as?”

Katie shifted in her seat, not sure if she should say anything to the director. “There wasn’t any talk, or gossip, about someone harassing her at home, maybe?”

“No, nothing that I can think of—”

There was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot from the first floor.

Katie jumped up from her chair and quickly went out to the staircase and listened. She heard voices yelling and then McGaven instructing someone to drop a weapon. She raced back into the director’s office where she was standing with a shocked look upon her face.

“Call 911. And tell them shots have been fired. Let them know two police detectives are already here and in need of assistance. Got it?”

Director Norton nodded and quickly picked up her phone.

Katie raced down the stairs, almost stumbling before she reached the bottom. Pulling her weapon, she stepped into the hallway, looking both ways. The shot had come from below, in the vicinity of the entrance and waiting area.

Two nurses came out of a room to see what was going on. The worried expressions on their faces clearly evident as they looked up and down the hallway.

“Stay inside, lock the door,” she told them. They obliged without any questions.

Katie hurried down the hall, listening intently, stopping at the corner with her gun held out in front of her. She moved slowly at first, and then continued on when no one appeared.

It was strangely quiet.

Her main concern was the safety of those in the waiting room and her partner. She knew that McGaven was capable and would do whatever it took to protect the people.

Reaching the end of the hallway just before the reception area, Katie slowed to a stop. She saw Rita on the floor in a crouched position. Her eyes were wide and face pale.

Katie caught her attention and made a motion with her hand to move back into the internal rooms.

Rita crawled until she was out of sight and then got up and hurried down the hall to safety and wait.

“No! Someone is going to pay!” yelled a man’s voice.

“Take it easy. I’m sure we can work this out,” said McGaven calmly with his gun drawn but not aimed at the man. “Just put the gun down.”

Katie inched forward and spied around the corner, relieved that her partner was okay and was calmly confronting the situation in the waiting-room area. She saw the man that had been sitting out front when they arrived, now without the heavy blue coat. He had a handgun and was waving it around while pacing. It was clear that he was under pressure and felt that someone was responsible for his distress. She didn’t see the other blue-coated person and wondered where she could be.

Pulling back, she looked down the hallway in both directions to check no one was around. Her instincts told her that she needed to assist her partner. There was no other way around to get into the waiting area. The other door was the emergency exit and it would be locked from the inside.

“You’re going to arrest me! Me! I didn’t let her die! They did!”

“Tell me what happened. We can straighten this out,” said McGaven, still sounding composed and measured.

“She’s gone! Someone is going to pay!”

Another gunshot rang out.

Katie was ready to move forward when she saw that the man had shot at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to kill anyone, she thought.

“That’s not the way to do it,” said McGaven.

The man was still pacing, fretful and highly strung.

“Put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”

Katie crouched low and scanned the area. From what she could see, there was a maintenance door near where the man was pacing.

She turned and raced down the hallway, opening doors. Several people were huddled and hiding.

“Stay here, you’re safe,” she whispered, flashing her badge, and moved on until she found Rita with two people. “Rita, can you tell me how to get to that maintenance room in the lobby?”

Rita nodded. In a quiet voice, she said, “Down the hallway until you see a room marked ‘Storage’, at the far end of that room is a maintenance door.”

Katie mouthed thank you and turned, taking off at a full sprint as fast as she could to the storage door. Opening it, she entered. It was noticeably warmer inside and there was a hum of the heating system as dim lights lit the way. There were controls lit up with green buttons, which didn’t mean anything to her. She prayed that she wouldn’t run into anyone in maintenance because she didn’t have time to explain.

She followed instructions straight and then it turned sharply, but it also narrowed to an uncomfortable space. Gasping hard as her heart hammered in her chest; she caught her breath and pushed her focus. There were no sirens yet, but the police would soon be racing into the parking lot and that might push the man to do something he couldn’t take back.

Finally she reached the end where the door opened into the large waiting area. It felt as if she had been running for half an hour when in fact it was barely forty-five seconds.

Resting her hand on the doorknob, she felt for a locking mechanism and slowly turned the device. Pulling the door open a crack, she could see the man had his back to her about six feet away. McGaven still had his gun drawn but it was aimed downward, so as to not provoke the distraught man.

Katie pulled the door a little bit wider and hoped that it didn’t make a sound.

Three women were huddled in the corner shielding two children. They saw Katie as she slowly showed them her badge. It was unclear if it made them feel better or not.

The man was beginning to get more enraged now, taking aim at various people and things around the room.

Through the large window Katie saw two police cruisers enter the parking lot without lights and sirens—so as to not stoke the pressure and aggravate the shooter. They crept closer and parked. Two deputies got out and began to make their way toward the health center’s door.

Katie knew that she had to act fast if they were going to avoid casualties.

She dared to inch out of the doorway a little bit farther. Not wanting to lose her gun in a scuffle, she returned it to her holster and kept moving stealthily closer to the man.

McGaven knew what she was going to do as his body language stiffened.

The man raised the gun and then he swung his right arm down away from McGaven.

It was now or never. She took a deep gulp of air.

Katie sprinted toward the man at full speed just as he turned to see her charging at him. She slammed into his upper body with full impact, taking him down to the floor, landing on top of him; then sliding a few feet before stopping on the hard tile.