Page 36 of Little Girls Sleeping
The deputy stared at her, his eyes wide.
“Do it!” she exclaimed.
Twenty-One
Detective Templeton and another detective named Abrams had just exited the Comptons’ home. Templeton was angry that he had only been able to talk with Mrs. Compton—her husband had moved to Idaho less than a year ago. He hadn’t had any luck with her either, as she hadn’t had anything new to report. She remained committed to the same information she had first given the detective four years ago.
“Check her original statement and see if there are any inconsistencies,” he barked to the other detective.
Abrams nodded and took a cell-phone call. “Yes, we’ll be there in about half an hour.” He ended the call with a look of surprise.
Templeton demanded, “Be where in half an hour?”
“Detective Scott and Deputy McGaven have just found Terrance Price dead,” reported Abrams.
“What?” Templeton’s voice was barely a whisper as he stood staring at his partner in disbelief.
“Apparent suicide. They found him hanging in the Havens’ barn.”
Templeton fumed. “What the hell was Scott doing looking for Price?” he snapped.
Katie had arranged for the medical examiner and forensics to arrive. Even though it appeared to be a suicide, it was always prudent to have a death scene examined and documented in case the ME was to state a different cause and manner of death.
She knew that Templeton would be contacted as well. It wouldn’t be long before he would arrive and demand an explanation for why she was at the Haven farm.
“Thanks, Denise.” She ended her cell-phone call. “The Havens are at County General,” she told McGaven. “It seems Mr. Haven suffered a stroke and Mrs. Haven will probably end up in an assisted-living home.”
The deputy nodded; he seemed to be more interested in the case now that a dead body had showed up.
With her mountain of information to sift through, and witnesses she wanted to re-interview, Katie knew it was important to have someone on her side. She wouldn’t give up on the deputy. Especially now that Price’s death had raised more questions than answers. True, the man had been unstable, with mental issues, but why commit suicide barely twenty-four hours after Chelsea’s body was found?
An unmarked police vehicle raced into the driveway and braked sharply, barely missing a patrol car. Detectives Templeton and Abrams exited, heading directly for Katie. Templeton’s face was red, his arms stiff with clenched fists, and he appeared to want to spill blood.
Here we go…
“Scott!” he yelled.
Katie stood her ground. She noticed that McGaven conveniently found somewhere else to go until the lecture was finished.
“What the hell are you doing?” Templeton accused.
“I secured a crime scene so there wouldn’t be any… mistakes,” Katie replied.
“Your orders were to update the investigation as the information became available, along with any daily data entry.”
“It’s being done as we speak. There’s tons of work to be filtered through. I’m filtering,” she said.
Twenty-Two
With her hair still damp from a long, hot shower, Katie dressed warmly in a thick robe and began to sort through the paperwork spread over her living room. She made notes of all the calls she had made at the police department after leaving the Haven farm. It was difficult at first to pry answers out of people, but with some coaxing they were able to give her what she needed.
It was late, just after eleven p.m., and she was supposed to be at a briefing tomorrow morning at 0700 hours. Her eyes grew heavy as she organized her notes on Terrance Price into chronological order and began to read through everything carefully one more time.
Terrance Price, born September 1st, 1962, in Sacramento, California. Price suffered a severe head injury in 1982 in a motorcycle accident. He was first diagnosed as having paranoid schizophrenia and later, according to another psychologist, he was thought to have a personality disorder. Self-medicating with drugs and alcohol made him a perfect candidate for homelessness. Price was in and out of jail nine times: drunk and disorderly, theft, trespassing, etc. All minor offenses. He took on several handyman jobs and light carpentry work. Recently he worked for the Havens. People who had direct contact with him said that he was doing better than he had in some time.
She thumbed through some of the photographs taken earlier by the crime-scene unit, which had been emailed to her. She was relieved that forensics treated her like any other detective in the department. It would make her job much easier down the road.
In the photographs, the barn and the body were as she remembered. The photographer had abided by the general rules of documenting a crime scene—or a potential one. There were three basic areas: an overview of the scene, close-up, and medium range. Everything in the barn appeared to be in order and nothing seemed suspicious.
