Pretty Broken Dolls by Jennifer Chase

Chapter Forty-Three

Friday 1555 hours

Katie and McGaven drove back to the sheriff’s department and were mostly silent. There were some strange anomalies that had embedded themselves into the investigations—and it weighed heavy on them: the way the homicide cases were brought to her and McGaven; another police agency tailing Katie’s investigations and crime scenes; the unusual signature of the killer; the differing styles of makeup application; the spoofed text messages taunting Katie; the possibility of a copycat. All these things meant something specific to the killer, they were trying to communicate something in their own way, and each piece had to be deciphered. Katie struggled with telling her uncle about what was going on—her gut instinct told her to wait, and that it would play itself out, and soon.

As they reached the forensic department, Katie felt relieved that she was entering her sheltered haven. It was her private, quiet place to be the most productive. Nothing would ever happen that would endanger anyone. She looked at the forensic area as her safe cocoon. That was the only way she could describe it—as silly as it was: it was her safe place.

Walking past the main forensic examination area, Katie glanced inside to see if John was working but it was empty. All the computers were running. One of them looked to be running through AFIS, searching for an identity.

Katie followed McGaven into their office. He didn’t say anything until he was in front of his computer, then he finally spoke.

“The more I think about this, the more I think that you need to talk to the sheriff about what’s going on.”

“I’ve been thinking about it too… but,” she said as she cleared part of her desktop, cluttered with papers, files, and notepads, “I think we need to wait. Something weird is going on, but we don’t know what it is—yet,” she stressed.

McGaven rubbed his forehead with his middle and forefinger. She knew it was a sign of agitation for him, which was rare. “This time, Katie, I’m not in agreement with you. There’s something not right about this case. I don’t think we should wait. You can see where I’m coming from.”

“Give it until tomorrow. Let’s move forward on these cases and come back on Monday, then decide. It’ll be clearer with time to think over the weekend.”

He thought about it. Reluctantly, he said, “Okay. We’ll discuss it then.”

“Good.” She stood and walked up to the whiteboard. “It’s not as impressive as Agent Campbell’s command center, but I have some things he doesn’t.”

McGaven straightened his pile of lists of the fairgrounds’ employees and miscellaneous workers. He had already worked through half of the names, checking them off apart from a couple of questionable ones. He leaned back in his chair as it squeaked under the stress. “Bring it on.”

Katie smiled. She loved the fact that even though McGaven disagreed with her, he still held their friendship and working relationship in a higher regard. “Okay… When I’m having a bit of trouble with a case, or in this instance, cases plural, I go back to the beginning.”

“The crime scenes?”

“Even further than that. The killer’s motivation.” She paused in her usual stance with her hands on her hips. “There’s a big clue with the crime scenes. Why such flashy in-your-face displays? What is the killer trying to convey to us?”

“A life-changing event? Something they can’t get over?”

“Think about the thread that ties them together?” she said.

“Besides the makeup and poses? It would be the military K9 aspect.”

“Was it someone that had a bad experience with a K9 team? Washed out of the program and now wants revenge? We saw some indication of that.”

“That would make sense of the threatening message: ‘You know what you did. You can’t take it back. The finale is coming.’It was signed DH.”

“That brings us to Daniel Harper who was Darla Winchell’s friend. But it doesn’t fit with his background—and why kill the other victims?”

“To throw law enforcement off the trail?” he said. “I don’t follow the whole copycat angle.”

Katie made a few notes. “There’s something about the word ‘copycat’ that makes me cringe. How common is it, really? Five percent of serial murders? Ten? One percent? It’s more likely one tenth of one percent.” She pulled out some of her papers. “But it does seem as if Gwen Sanderson killed Nancy Day, for whatever reason. And someone has been copying her MO, possibly for fame and attention.” She thought about it. “Fame and attention,” she repeated. “And that brings me to a theory. Bear with me, it’s a theory. It was something that Sadie Caldwell said, about when she saw a person sneaking over to Jeanine Trenton’s house, they reminded her of someone in law enforcement.”

“Or military. But we would have to assume that Sadie really saw something that night—it could’ve been in her mind.”

Katie tapped her pen. “I think she really saw someone.”

“Maybe,” said McGaven. “But maybe she was mistaken on the day or the time even though she did see someone.”

“One thing we can agree on: Sadie was in law enforcement as a correctional officer, so she would know all the common mannerisms of a cop.” She thought more about it. “What if it was someone from a law enforcement background? And many police officers have been in the military.”

“Like you.”

“Like me. But this person has an axe to grind—for whatever their personal perspective or experience.”

“I see where you’re going with this. Someone who would have access to military information—specifically military K9 members.” He studied the investigation board. “I don’t know, Katie. Isn’t that a reach?”

“Hang in there… Could it be something so far out that it’s actually right in front of us? The military dog training is central to all of these investigations.”

“Yes…”

“The message said, ‘the finale is coming’and now I’m getting cryptic messages that pertain to this case. C’mon, Gav, you know what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t know…”

“Let me run this by you: who has access to law enforcement information, military files, and would have the software to clone my cell phone? And moves like a cop?”

“Short answer: a cop, and the long version…”

“The long version would be the same person that’s watching us investigate these cases. The same person who is pulling the strings… making the scenarios work their way.”

“But what for? What’s his motivation for all of this?”

“A killer is a killer for their own reasons—even if it’s to make themselves look like a hero. To right a wrong. They generally feel as if someone has wronged them. Who would know how to keep suspicion away from himself? And watch us so closely?”

“But Sadie said the figure she saw was slight—nothing like Campbell. I think we need to talk to the sheriff tomorrow and bring him up to speed on what has happened… everything.” McGaven was adamant. “We need to talk to him and let him know our concerns. He’ll know what we need to do—if anything.”

“Yes, okay, you’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get out of here so I can get ready to meet Lizzy tonight.”

“Go home. Take your mind off this… it’s all theory, remember?”

“It’s profiling in order to make the pool of suspects smaller so we can pinpoint a few.”

McGaven began sifting through his lists, intending to keep plugging through them.

Katie tidied up her desk and put everything in a pile with her yellow steno pad on top with Special Agent Campbell’s reports. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

“Blow off some steam and have some fun tonight.”

“I just want a quiet nice dinner with a friend,” she said and smiled, leaving the office.