Page 42 of Little Girls Sleeping
Katie Scott had spoiled everything.
His new search had moved along with great expectation. Nothing else mattered to him. It had to have been a fluke, a lucky stumble, for the woman to have found his most sacred location.
Someone will pay.
In an effort to block out bad thoughts and bad memories, the man blinked his eyes several times. To his surprise, the thoughts perished as quickly as they had consumed him.
He watched the silver SUV merge into traffic and drive away.
It was almost time.
Twenty-Five
“What are you doing?” asked Katie as she watched McGaven double-check his weapon. They were driving to the Darren residence to interview the two brothers.
“There have been a number of visits there in the past,” he replied. “It helps to be prepared for the… unexpected.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“You didn’t ask,” he stated flatly.
“I would appreciate the courtesy of a heads-up if you know something of importance—like the fact that we could be walking into an ambush or a sketchy situation.”
She made a detour and sped down one of the main streets.
“Where are you going?” the deputy asked.
“Need some caffeine.”
“Great idea.” His mood perked up and he actually sounded civil.
Katie pulled up in front of a small coffee bar. McGaven got out of the car and then hesitated, looking back at her.
“I have to make a quick call—I’ll be right there,” she said.
She watched him until he was inside and in the queue facing away from her before she made a break for it. How long she would have, she didn’t know, but she wanted to stay motivated and get some answers from the brothers without any distractions. She clearly wasn’t getting through to the deputy. His agitation while checking his gun had made her nervous and unable to focus clearly. She would apologize later. She knew she would receive a reprimand for her behavior, but the priority was still the same—find Chelsea’s killer.
While she drove, she pondered what Mrs. Stanley had told her. Why did the woman initially tell Templeton that she had seen Chelsea that day? What was she hiding? Was it something to do with Chelsea, or her own secrets? It was another piece of the puzzle. Katie wasn’t sure where it actually fit into the investigation, but she knew that things would begin to fall into place and eventually lead to the killer.
The Darren property wasn’t exactly how Katie had pictured it. It appeared to be more of a junkyard than a carpenter’s workplace. Cars, refrigerators, air conditioners, small household appliances, and other things that Katie couldn’t readily identify littered the front area leading to a huge metal barn.
She took a few moments to search the backgrounds of Malcolm and Frederick Darren. Both brothers had quite a number of drunk and disorderly, petty theft, and disturbing the peace citations. It was clear that Malcolm was more of a troublemaker than his brother.
She noted the highlights in her small field notebook and made a shorthand notation of how she would proceed. Then she exited the car and walked to the back, popping open the trunk and retrieving a stun gun from her police duffle bag. She secured it underneath her suit jacket.
The afternoon was becoming warmer, and under any other circumstances she would have shed her jacket, but she wanted her firearm and Taser to be hidden from immediate view. She felt conspicuous in her dark-gray pant suit, crisp white blouse, and dressy boots. Not her usual army attire, which was not only more comfortable, but practical when working in unknown conditions.
She surveyed the immediate area; it appeared quiet and deserted. Nothing stirred. Not even a dog barked. An oversized pickup truck with hefty tires was parked near the metal building. The large toolbox lid was open and the lift gate was down. Someone had to be around.
A twinge of anxious energy revealed itself. Katie chose to ignore it and walked through the front yard, zigzagging around the junk to make her way to the barn and glancing at each piece of dumpster material to make sure that no one was hiding from view and could get the jump on her.
Muffled voices emanated from the barn. Listening closer, it sounded more like talk radio or a news station than a conversation.
Katie decided to make her presence known.
“Sheriff’s office, Detective Scott here,” she announced. “Hello? Anyone here?”
She unsnapped her holster just as a precaution.
