Pretty Broken Dolls by Jennifer Chase
Chapter Thirty-Four
Wednesday 1835 hours
Darla Winchell’s apartment was now the official primary crime scene—the fairgrounds were the secondary crime and murder location—and an investigation was in progress. Two patrol deputies roped off the apartment building and the parking area where the victim’s car was located.
McGaven was searching the car and assisting the forensic technician Rob, as Katie was inside the apartment with John. The two deputies were keeping residents away from the area and not allowing anyone into the building.
Katie watched as John documented the apartment, recovered fingerprints, and other forensic evidence including blood samples. He carefully retrieved and boxed the bamboo tube, the potential murder weapon. Its size and diameter were consistent with the wounds found on Darla Winchell’s body.
“Thanks, John,” said Katie as she exited the apartment. She was confident that John would do his job with exceptional ability. She wanted to double check the files on the other victims to find out if there was a bamboo pole or something similar found at the crime scenes. She didn’t recall, but it was due diligence. Flashing back in her mind to the three-foot bamboo pole on Sadie’s porch, she suspected it had to do more with gardening than murder, but she wasn’t going to rule it out.
Just as Katie walked out the door, she was confronted by Special Agent Campbell.
“Hello, Detective,” he said.
Katie hid her surprise and immediately thought of what he had said during their meeting on Sunday at the diner.
She hid her dislike for the agent; she was a professional and would do her job.
“You look great,” he said. “You would never guess that you slid down a mountain recently.”
“It was a small hillside, but nonetheless.” She glanced down at the parking lot and saw Agent Haley speaking with McGaven. “What brings you here?”
“Anything new and potentially important about my cases, I want to know.”
“I see.”
“No worries, Detective. I won’t get in your way and I look forward to your report.” He forced a smile that looked predatory to Katie. As he stood in the early evening light, she felt less sure of him than ever. It wasn’t just his presence, it was his demeanor, his stare, and how he seemed to have all the right answers.
“We might have recovered the murder weapon.”
“The first or second?” he asked, clearly trying to test her knowledge of the case.
“Weapon?”
“Yes.”
“The autopsy report—which I’m sure that you have read—suggests that the victim, Darla Winchell, was hit forcibly with a cylindrical implement—forcibly enough to induce a heart attack or serious arrhythmia.”
“I see. So you think the victim was struck hard, like you described, enough so that she was compliant and the killer could get her to the fairgrounds.”
“At first I thought the struggle began in the living room, but I believe she was initially in her bedroom when the killer entered. Most likely getting ready for work—maybe she was partially dressed. That could account for her scant clothing at the fairgrounds. She was struck in the bedroom—at least once. There was quite a struggle in the hallway near the bedroom entrance. Maybe she tried to get back to her bedroom to secure the door to call for help. But you can read my report.” She turned to go down the staircase. “I need to get back to work.”
The agent watched her leave and didn’t offer any other suggestion or question.
Katie couldn’t help but feel incredibly uncomfortable around Campbell. Even after they’d had that conversation at the diner, her instinct still inhibited her feelings. She hated to have feelings drive her investigation, but there was something amiss about his motivations. She had relied on her instincts before and they hadn’t proved her wrong—yet.
Katie walked up to McGaven. “How’s it going? Anything?”
Agent Haley walked by. “Hi, Detective Scott. Nice to see you.”
Katie forced a smile back.
McGaven leaned in to his partner. “Something wrong?”
“Not a thing,” she said, clenching her teeth.
“We found her wallet and jacket, but nothing else. Her car appears to be untouched, but Rob is going to dust for foreign prints inside and out.” McGaven paused and a serious expression crossed his face. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he said, glancing up on the deck.
“Sure.” Katie led her partner to the other side of the complex near a group of trees. The darkness began to settle over the property, but she could still see McGaven’s grave expression. “What’s on your mind?”
“I saw you talking with Campbell.”
“Yeah, he was just making sure we’re doing our jobs.” She tried to make light of it, but in truth, it bothered her. His attitude. His insinuation.
“You know that I’m not one to ring the panic button.”
She smiled. “C’mon, Gav, spit it out. What gives?”
“After you told me what he discussed with you at the diner the other day, the more I think about it, something seems fishy to me.”
“Fishy?”
“Yeah, I don’t like how we were roped into this situation and how he sits on his throne watching us—you know what it reminds me of?”
“What?”
“It’s like he’s… it’s like he’s pulling the strings. Everything in my gut says so. Especially after I saw him today.”
Katie began, “I know—”
“Just do me a favor, take extra precautions, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
“I mean it. Otherwise, you’re going to have someone sleeping on your couch until this investigation is over.”
Katie laughed. “I’ll be fine.” She had her own concerns, but now hearing McGaven’s voice, she was apprehensive. “Really, I’ll be fine. And I’ll be careful.”