Page 14 of Little Girls Sleeping
Eight
Highland Center Park was the town’s most popular park, and was centrally located in the oldest part of Pine Valley. The town had originally been named Sheraton Basin; it was not until 1905 that it was renamed Pine Valley after a vote.
The history of the town revealed rivalries between families searching for gold at various locations in the hills. Gossip and long-revered beliefs handed down through the generations changed slightly over the years, but there were stories of ghosts, missing buildings, and people disappearing into thin air. Most referred to these accounts as purely fiction, but it made for an interesting tale for tourists.
The area around Highland Center Park, unlike the renovated downtown area, was full of historical landmarks and county meeting buildings. All kinds of people frequented the area, from families with kids to the homeless community and visitors.
Katie wanted to investigate who might have witnessed anything pertinent in the Chelsea Compton abduction. Someone might have seen something without realizing it—it was a matter of seeking them out.
The park was a favorite spot for families and anyone wanting to play team sports. There were three playgrounds, two baseball fields, various picnic areas, a pool only open in the summertime, and several miles of meandering trails for walkers and runners. As well as the various open grassy areas, there were countless trees, mostly California pines and oaks. The county maintenance kept the numerous shrubs and flowers sustained throughout the seasons. It seemed there was always something blooming, which made the park teem with life year round.
Katie sat in her Jeep studying the area on her iPad. She moved from one section to the next, expanding the details she wanted to see clearly. The geographical locations appeared different at ground level compared to aerial vantages on maps.
She entered the address of the friend Chelsea had been visiting, who had since moved away, and Chelsea’s home at 1411 Bakersfield Avenue. The distance between the two was barely three quarters of a mile, if Chelsea had taken the walking route through the park. The only other alternative was weaving through the neighborhood streets as if driving a car, which would take twice as long.
Chelsea had left her friend’s house at approximately 3.15 on a Thursday afternoon in August. It would have been hot, in the mid-nineties, and she would have wanted to walk in the shade and get home as quickly as she could.
Only one person claimed to have seen her walking that day: Terrance Price, a fifty-eight-year-old homeless alcoholic, who was known to most people in town to be unreliable and to have a personality disorder. He claimed to have seen Chelsea get into a dark pickup truck, which then drove away. He didn’t get a look at the driver—it could have been a man or a woman. Police later disregarded his statement on the grounds that it had too many inconsistencies and inaccurate information.
“Well, Cisco, you want to go for a nice leisurely walk in the park?” suggested Katie.
The dog pushed his nose toward her face in excited agreement.
Katie laughed. “Well, okay then.”
She opened the driver’s door and immediately Cisco followed her out, letting out a couple of whines of happiness. He stayed obediently at her side and waited for her to snap on the leash. His glossy black coat shone in the sun, contrasting with his amber wolf’s eyes.
Katie placed her cell phone, keys, and extra doggie bags into her pocket.
“C’mon, let’s go,” she urged the dog.
She decided to take the path that wove around the park. It would be a great way for her to see the entire location at a glance before tracing Chelsea’s last potential walk. She had been to the area a few times a number of years ago, but it was located on the other side of town from where she lived, so when she was a kid they had usually gone to another park.
A couple of ground squirrels with high-pitched chatters ran down a tree, crossed the path, bounced into the deeper grass, then scrambled up another tree.
Cisco let out two low barks.
“Aus,” Katie ordered in German, meaning “leave it”. She wanted to blend in and not have a loud barking dog drawing attention to them.
A slight breeze cooled the vicinity, making it quite comfortable, unlike when Chelsea had last been here. Walking briskly, with the occasional pause for Cisco to sniff something only interesting to him, Katie realized that the little girl would have entered the park near one of the community buildings. She noticed several cameras on the corners of it.
It couldn’t be that easy, because it rarely was. There was nothing in the files about looking through security footage. Nothing much was mentioned about the park in general.
Were there security cameras four years ago? she wondered.
It suddenly struck her momentarily that even though she was investigating, she felt well rested and relaxed in the park setting. She was home. It felt strange, but wonderful. She took a nice slow inhale and concentrated on her beautiful surroundings, decompressing from where she had been.
“Can I pet your dog?” asked a child’s voice.
Katie turned to see a little girl about five or six years old with large brown eyes, mesmerized by the sight of Cisco. She smiled. “Sure. If your mom says it’s okay.”
She made eye contact with a young woman sitting on a bench with another, heavier woman, watching several children play on the slide.
“Okay,” Katie said.
The little girl slowly walked up to Cisco. The dog obediently sat and allowed the child to pet him, licking her a couple of times.
Laughing with pure joy, she said, “He’s funny and very pretty. What’s his name?”
