Page 18 of Little Girls Sleeping
A slight smile crinkled his face as he passed her. “Afternoon,” he said, and was gone.
Katie slipped the file into its correct space, closed the drawer, and then peered out the doorway. There was no one in sight. She didn’t know what to think of the man in the vault, but dismissed it from her mind. There were more important things to worry about. Things like finding Chelsea.
Eleven
It was barely seven a.m. on Friday morning, her off day, and Katie was already dressed and showered. She finished her high-protein breakfast, then began to gather everything she needed for the day.
Cisco didn’t want to get up as early as Katie did, and stayed on his warm doggie bed, but he perked up when he saw the preparations she was making. He realized she meant business when she unlocked the gun case and retrieved two weapons: a shotgun and her favorite semi-automatic choice—a Glock 19. He followed her around the house in close proximity as she packed.
“Cisco, give me some space. I’ll make sure there are some treats with your water supply.”
She assembled a day’s worth of food—power bars, various nuts and seeds, plain sandwiches with turkey and cheese, and plenty of water—and loaded a small duffle bag with some basic tools, ropes and climbing gear, binoculars, a digital camera, a compass, and her iPad. She knew that her Jeep had everything she needed in case of car trouble or needing to change a tire. She lined it all up at the front door and spent a few moments deciding if she needed anything else.
Hurrying to her bedroom, she quickly selected a change of clothes with extra socks and some warmer layers. The weather looked mild, but she didn’t want to be taken by surprise by a cold snap. She rolled up everything tightly, taking her back to the battlefield, where your belongings needed to be compact and carried on your body.
Cisco ran in and out the front door as she packed the car. The breeze picked up and blew leaves across the long driveway.
When she was done, she stood in the front yard and surveyed the property. The trees and low-lying bushes were dense and growing prosperously. Everything looked different after a few years away.
After being in combat conditions, Katie had perfected her gut instincts and honed her powers of observation. It was a matter of paying attention to the smallest details in order to make the biggest impact.
For some reason, today her nerves were heightened, as if someone was watching her and studying her habits.
“Cisco, here,” she called.
The dog obediently trotted out the front door and jumped easily into the Jeep, settling himself on the passenger seat.
Katie double-checked the front door, then locked the deadbolt with her key. With her semi-automatic sidearm secured in a holster under her lightweight jacket, she walked toward her car. The search areas that she had mapped were extremely rural, and you never knew who you might run into or what their motivations might be. She wasn’t going to be caught without a practical plan of action. She was prepared.
She was just about to climb into the Jeep when a strong instinct kicked her into high gear. She turned and scanned the front yard, then shut the car door and decided to take a quick walk around before she left.
Cisco stood up, peering out the window, and watching every move she made.
She walked casually down the long, slightly curving driveway. Her nerves tingled and her muscles twitched. There was no doubt that her senses had amplified during her time in the army.
She heard Cisco’s high-pitched whine from inside the car.
The sides of the paved driveway were exposed soil, which still had visible signs of raking from the gardener’s last visit. The bushes and rose bushes had been recently pruned, resulting in exposed branches. As she turned the corner, she spotted fresh impressions of footprints from a common work boot. Glancing at them, she estimated they were at least a size ten or twelve. Out of habit, she photographed the impression with her cell phone.
She continued to walk the property, surveying anything that might prove unusual, and then began her walk back. It was certainly possible that the boot print had been made by her uncle, but he hadn’t been here over the past week and a half, and it looked more recent than that.
As she got into her Jeep and started the engine, she decided it didn’t warrant any more thought or examination. She eased the car down the driveway, ignoring the doubts she’d previously had.
She set her GPS and began the forty-minute drive to the first area on her search map. As she drove in solitude, she reflected on Chelsea Compton and what was on her mind when she left her friend’s house and started her walk home.
Was she thinking about what her mother was making for dinner that night?
Was she excited about some event that she would be going to before school started?
Did she have a school crush?
It was a double-edged sword for Katie that struck her violently in the gut. Every time she thought about Chelsea, it was forever sewn together with her camp friend Jenny.
There were so many other similar victims and cold cases nationwide that it appeared to Katie to be an epidemic for the law-enforcement world. The layers of social depravity were growing like cancer. Everyone needed to keep children safe. No cold case involving a child should ever be relegated to a file full of paperwork, left in a cabinet to be forgotten.
She concentrated on the busy traffic, cars darting in and out. Slowly it became more sparse, with only the occasional vehicle passing. Before long, she was on the back-country roads, almost devoid of any other cars. Houses too became less frequent, and the landscape grew denser and more fierce. In many places, driveways were clear, but the houses themselves were hidden in the deep recesses of the forest.
She had started out with optimism and a sense of doing what was right, but now, as she headed northeast, studying the vast countryside, her mission seemed implausible and foolish.
