Page 7 of Little Girls Sleeping
“C’mon,” said Denise, smiling.
Katie followed her down a long, dimly lit hallway. They passed two uniformed officers, who nodded to them. When they reached an unmarked door, Denise inserted a key into the lock. “This is the office supply room. It’s supposed to be locked and is only for administrative personnel—if any of the officers need anything, we have to get it for them. I guess it’s for budget purposes and a tight inventory. Anything you might need is here.”
Katie peered inside and saw metal shelves stacked with paper, pens, notebooks, and other items.
Denise locked the door and they continued to the next one, which she opened without a key. Stepping inside, she said, “This door remains unlocked during the day, but you’ll need the key in the evening if you happen to be working late. This is where all the cases ultimately end up.”
The room was the size of a small warehouse, with high shelves reminding Katie of a superstore. Boxes and sealed plastic containers lined the shelves, with identifying case numbers, year, and name. “Wow, you could get lost in here,” she said.
“On the far wall are the filing cabinets, along with the cold cases,” Denise explained. “Of course, all the actual evidence is stored in the forensic division.” She studied Katie for a moment. “I’m really glad you’re here. We need the help, but I’m afraid you’ll probably get bored before the day is over.”
“I doubt that. It’s what I need right now. Work to keep me busy.”
Denise smiled. “Great. I’ll show you to your workstation.”
Katie spent most of the morning entering data and issuing details for warrants. It was tedious but made her feel needed without worrying about bombs and gunfire. A few curious people approached her and asked what it had been like in Afghanistan. A few others, mostly women, just completely ignored her existence. Most people were polite, but it was obvious who felt that Katie was being treated special because she had spent two years in the armed forces and her uncle was the sheriff.
She sat at a corner workstation with a department-networked computer and a fairly comfortable chair. The desk was next to Denise’s area, and Katie couldn’t help but notice several framed photographs of a smiling boy about four years old, along with other knickknacks that helped her desk to appear personalized. Her screen saver was a big shaggy dog, and two small crystal vases with wildflowers sat along the edge of the desk.
Katie worked her way through two large stacks of files, making sure everything was entered into the mainframe, then collated, and returned to the folders ready for the final filing. When she’d finished, she went to her uncle’s office to see if he was free for lunch. He wasn’t there, and his assistant was also gone. She was just about to leave when she saw a pile of files lying on a side table where they needed to be returned to the proper filing cabinets—some open cases, others cold.
As she grabbed them up, one of the files slipped from her grasp and a few papers scattered onto the floor. She bent down to pick them up and saw that it was a missing-persons case from four years ago that had gone cold.
Katie remembered the incident and the mass searches that had followed. Eight-year-old Chelsea Compton had been walking back from a friend’s house in the middle of a summer afternoon. She had never made it home. It was a heartbreaking case. Many Pine Valley residents had their own ideas about what had happened, but it was nothing more than idle gossip, and no new physical evidence had been found since.
She opened the file and skimmed the notes from the lead investigator, Detective Rory Templeton. As she turned the pages, she stopped on a large eight-by-ten color photograph of Chelsea. It was the smiling, eager face of a little girl with dark hair, bright-green eyes, a missing front tooth, and her entire life ahead of her.
Like a gavel hitting a judge’s desk, a memory fell sharply to the front of Katie’s mind, of when she was at camp around the same age as the missing girl. It was one of the most memorable times in her childhood and she could still remember all the friends she had made, as well as the fun activities. She had learned archery that year, which later helped with her skill as a sharpshooter. There was swimming, hiking, canoeing, and various crafts. It was a wonderful lifelong memory of fun, friends, and surviving through the growing pains of being an adolescent.
But…
She also had a much darker recollection of that time. It was something that had always haunted her, one of the defining moments of her life: the last conversation she had with her friend Jenny.
“Hi, Katie,” said Jenny eagerly, revealing a mouthful of braces. Her enthusiasm sometimes overrode her shyness. She was one of the nicest girls Katie had met at camp and the two of them had immediately struck up a friendship.
“Hi,” replied Katie, beaming with joy. “Where were you? I looked for you before we went canoeing. It was so much fun. You would have loved it.”
“Oh.” Jenny looked down. “I was… well, I was running late and didn’t really feel like it.”
Katie had noticed that Jenny would disappear at times and not participate in group activities.
“Well, we’re going again at three. You want to come?” she asked. “Please come,” she insisted.
Jenny’s eyes lit up and she replied, “That sounds like fun.”
“Good. I’ll meet you right here a little bit earlier. Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” Jenny answered as she smiled, clearly excited.
But Katie never saw or talked to Jenny again. She waited for her as arranged, but Jenny never showed up. She didn’t want to be late for the canoe class, so she left without her friend. When Jenny didn’t appear at the canoe dock or later at dinner, counselors realized that she was missing from the campgrounds.
A casual search began, but soon it was established that law enforcement was needed to continue looking for the girl. There was no sign of her.
Two weeks after Katie returned home that summer, she overheard that a body had been found two counties away. It was identified as that of Jenny Daniels. According to the news, her parents had been involved in a nasty custody battle. When they couldn’t come to an amicable agreement, things turned deadly, and her dad killed both Jenny and her mom.
Memories of that incident haunted Katie for a long time, and still continued today.
She had known something hadn’t seemed right about Jenny’s behavior. If only she had pressed her to find out what was wrong at the time.
