Page 2 of Her Last Whisper
Deputy Windham kneeled down to her eye level and asked, “Amanda, can you tell us what happened to you? Do yourememberwhat happened? Anything?”
She shook her head as more tears welled up in her eyes.
“It’s okay.”
“A blue door with white trim,” she said quietly. “A big box…”
“What else, Amanda? Can you remember anything else?”
“There was a fantasy tree…”
Confused by the description, the deputy tried to make sense of it, pushing gently to pry out any more details from her. “Can you tell us what happened?”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, she finally spoke: “I was k-kidnapped.”
One
Six months and three days later… Monday 0705 hours
Detective Katie Scott drove her Jeep into the Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department parking lot and turned off the engine. She sat for a moment gathering her thoughts as she stared through the windshield at the rusty chain-link fence in front of her. She took several long, deep breaths to steady her anxiety. Today was her first day in her new job and her nerves were jangling.
Am I good enough to head the cold-case unit?
Katie had always wanted to be a police officer and ultimately a detective. This was her chance to prove, not only to herself but to anyone that doubted, that she could.
Can I mentally handle the caseload?
Katie had been through tough times, losing her parents, losing friends on the battlefield, but she never backed away from a challenge even when she knew it would leave a scar. She would do everything possible to find the culprits responsible for their crimes. Two years as a patrol officer and nearly four years as an Army K9 handler had brought her to this moment, to this job. Today was finally the day when she would lead the cold-case unit.
Angst tingled through her body, calling distant memories of the battlefield; images filtered into her brain, her senses heightened, the faint smell of expelled gunfire filled the air. Though she had a better handle on it now, her PTSD was a burden she would most likely carry with her forever. She’d purposely never been officially diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, afraid of the burden and stigma that came with it. For now, she pushed those images from her mind.
After the missing person’s case she’d been involved with barely six months ago, Sheriff Wayne Scott had ordered her to take some personal leave before beginning her new position. She didn’t want to admit it, but the rest had done her some good. Though her now elevated pulse told her otherwise, she was refreshed, rested, and ready to take on any assignment, no matter how big or small.
Glancing down at the passenger seat, she smiled at the sight of her new leather briefcase, coffee thermos filled with extra-strong java, and her freshly pressed suit jacket. She wanted to take a moment before everything changed.
Her cell phone buzzed with the arrival of a text from the sheriff:
Go to forensics first.
Sink or swim…she thought to herself as she grabbed her things, making sure her holstered gun and detective badge were secured properly at her waist. Exiting her car, she hurriedly slipped on her jacket. She might not feel like a detective yet, but at least she was going to look like one.
Quickly walking through the main entrance, she waved to the receptionist and crossed a large open area to the farthest corner where there was an unmarked door guarded by a small video lens, now directed at her from above. She pressed a button and waited for the door to unlock.
Hearing the click, she pushed through the door and made her way down the narrow wooden staircase leading to the main room in the forensic division. Katie figured that the sheriff must already have a case for her and wanted her down here to see some of the physical evidence first. She had spent some time in forensics working the missing girl case, so the area was familiar to her.
“Hello?” she called out as she hit the last step.
Silence.
“Hello?” she said again. “John?” She addressed the forensic supervisor. “Sheriff Scott?”
Again, no answer.
Katie let out a breath and looked around, her enthusiasm fading. “Anyone around? Hello?”
Walking down the long hallway with closed office doors lining both sides, she looked back and forth, calling out again. She was just about to turn around when a yellow sticky note on a door caught her attention.
DETECTIVE SCOTT ==>>>
