Page 39 of Little Girls Sleeping
She did notice that McGaven was instantly at her side and seemed to be prepared to defend her if necessary. Maybe it was a cop thing, but either way, it was encouraging that the deputy was beginning to warm to her.
Neither spoke when they got to the police car, but there seemed to be something a little bit different between them—he wasn’t as agitated and tense as before. Katie would have to be patient, though, if she expected him to treat her like other officers who had sworn to protect and serve.
She scanned through her notes. She knew from the daily investigative sheet where Templeton would hover, so she decided to have a chat with the Comptons’ neighbors, Sig and Ella Stanley. She had done a little background on them and found they weren’t a quiet conservative couple as she had imagined, but had had brushes with the law over trespassing, drunk and disorderly, and restraining orders. Officially, they stated that they had seen Chelsea on the day she disappeared, but then they changed their story and said they were mistaken.
She glanced at the deputy as he worked his cell phone with his thumbs; he kept his solemn stare focused on the tiny screen.
“You do realize that we’re working on a case involving the abduction and murder of two little girls?” she said, cutting through the silent treatment and hitting the truth right between the eyes.
The deputy turned to her, eyes narrowed and jaw tightened. “Of course, that’s why we’re here,” he replied.
“Then I would suggest you start acting like it.” She realized that she sounded a bit harsh, but her nerves were wearing thin from dealing with Detective Templeton.
“What’s your problem?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said. “I thought we were past this. I have half a mind to dump you out here and go on by myself.” She sensed anger teetering in her body, muscles tensed and growing more agitated.
The deputy leaned in as if to say something unprofessional, then decided against it. A big sigh ensued instead.
Katie took a slow breath. “Look, we’ve all had jobs or duties we’ve hated. But get over it.” She waited patiently for his response.
“Fine. Let’s go,” he said finally.
“Not good enough,” Katie persisted.
“What do you want from me, Detective Scott?” He stared at her directly, his eyes boring into hers.
“We’ve got a job to do, so let’s do it,” she said.
“It’s just…” He stopped before he finished his sentence.
“It’s just what?” Katie watched him closely.
“Look, I don’t have anything against you. But I’m getting more than my fair share of harassment and I’m the butt of every joke.”
“I see,” she said softly. “A little ribbing from the guys and you fold like a paper bag. Whining and complaining.”
“Well, that’s not really fair,” he said slowly.
“Fair?” she said, raising her voice. “You want to talk to me aboutfair? Is it fair to watch two of your teammates have their limbs ripped from their bodies because they happened to be too close to a bomb when it went off? Is it fair to sit with a friend who was there for you when everyone else wasn’t, and watch him die because that’s just the way it is?” She caught her breath and curbed her anger. “And tell me, Deputy McGaven, is it fair that two girls were murdered while the killer is still roaming free?”
The deputy looked away, visibly shaken by what she had said. His eyes were wide in astonishment as he fidgeted with his hands. “No, Detective, of course not.”
Katie started the car. Her heart pounded and that familiar feeling of panic tried to overpower her, but she pushed it away by concentrating on the case. The conversation was over, and she didn’t want to have to explain herself again.
She drove to the Stanleys’ house. She knew Mrs. Stanley would be home while her husband was at work—she had called them earlier. After speaking with Mrs. Stanley, it was clear she wasn’t enthusiastic about talking to the police again.
Katie slowed the vehicle and pulled into a parking space between the Compton and Stanley homes. It wasn’t difficult to imagine children playing on the quiet street filled with trees. The scenario was the same all across Middle America. Neighbors waved and smiled to one another. No one was loitering who didn’t belong; no one had any devious acts in mind. It exuded the appearance of a middle-class family neighborhood that would be portrayed in a book or movie; though in reality, no one knew what happened behind closed doors or who might wander through.
Chelsea’s house was quiet and there was nothing to set it apart from other homes. The yard had a sad appearance; many plants and flowers were dead, as was the lawn. It had most likely not been tended after Chelsea disappeared.
The Stanleys’ house showed the exact opposite, with blooming plants, dozens of vivid shades of green, and the fence recently painted. It was a house that had been maintained and loved. There was a window, presumably the kitchen, facing Chelsea’s house, with a clear view of the road and driveway.
Katie slowly exited the car, still observing the area, before shutting the door behind her. McGaven appeared to study the neighborhood as well and followed Katie’s example before joining her at the front door of the Stanley house. They appeared to be on the same page in the investigation at last.
Katie rang the doorbell and waited.
The door opened and an attractive middle-aged blonde woman wearing yoga pants and a pink tank top stood there. She studied Katie and the deputy for a moment.
