Page 55 of Her Last Whisper
“I think Jane Doe is the key to this entire investigation.”
Thirty-Two
Wednesday 0745 hours
Katie made sure that she had packed the police sedan with some extra essentials: a change of clothes, snacks, and plenty of water. Cold Springs was a good hour of a scenic drive from Pine Valley. It would have been nice to have McGaven riding along but they would cover more ground going their separate ways.
She had almost let too many emotions slip out when talking with McGaven yesterday, but the truth was something in her had resurfaced after seeing Nick again. It felt too soon to have her new life as a detective intersect with her time in the army. How could she possibly balance these two huge parts of her life at once?
Her cell phone rang. Glancing down, she saw it was Chad and decided to ignore the call until later. The last thing she needed right now was more complications. She accelerated and sped along the main roads for almost half an hour until she took the cutoff towards Cold Springs.
Pressing the button to lower her window, she took in the magnificent fragrance of the California pines. It was such a picturesque area with trees and intermittent open meadows and slightly sloping valleys. Taking a deep breath she felt herself relax.
Katie had a gap of time before visiting hours to see Jane Doe, so she decided to make the most out of her trip. Her mind continued to run through her perp and victim lists. She desperately wanted to zero in on a suspect soon. Things were moving along, but not fast enough.
In less than forty minutes, Katie turned onto a freeway leading to Cold Springs only five miles ahead. Glancing at her notebook, she’d written down a street called Chanticleer, which was the last known address for Nick’s missing brother, James Haines. Nick had given her a photo taken about ten years ago of a handsome man, clean-shaven, brown hair, and a crooked smile; just like Nick, but younger.
The area of town was old and run-down with junked cars parked in front of most houses and barns. She saw two men sitting in old beach chairs drinking beer and playing cards and slowed the sedan until she saw a dilapidated mailbox leaning to one side that read 545.
The thought never occurred to Katie that she might be entering into a hostile environment, but she was confident that she wasn’t going to assume anything without proof first. She pulled to the side of the road and parked—it was the best place she could leave her vehicle and the easiest location to make a quick departure.
She opened the driver’s door and was immediately hit with the heavy smell of marijuana, legal in the state of California, but nauseating. Everything would smell like pot smoke by the time she left and that annoyed her. She sighed, but exited her car anyway and quickly shut the door. It appeared to be an area where they grew the large plant harvests. That changed a few things a bit; it might make some of the locals around the area suspicious by her presence—even make her visit seem a bit dicey.
Katie made sure that her weapon was concealed properly and she had her cell phone tucked securely in her pocket and walked up to the cabin. The front area was entirely dirt with a few rocks tossed to the side. Large trees grew behind the cabin with looming branches draped over the rooftop. The chimney puffed ringlets of smoke into the tree branches.
Katie walked up the two steps to a small lopsided porch and knocked on the door. There was no answer and no sound of any movement inside. She knocked again—this time more assertively. Still no one answered.
She stepped down from the broken porch and walked around the cabin. There were all types of tools and wood, some organized, while other pieces were strewn all over. She heard the sound of someone chopping wood.
Thud… clack… bump…
The repetition was distinct and rhythmic, but made her cautious. She was stepping onto someone’s private property, without an invitation, trying to locate someone’s lost brother. Not the best idea, but there was no other way.
Thud… clack… bump…
Katie moved slowly and kept her balance as well as her wits. Rounding the corner of the house, she saw a large, bear-like man swinging an oversized ax splitting wood. He slowly reset another log. He was dressed in a heavy lumberjack shirt and dark blue jeans tucked into waterproof boots. He grunted now as he wielded the ax and slammed down onto the log. She stood for a moment, not entirely sure how to alert the man to her presence. Should she introduce herself as a police officer, or just a woman looking for a friend’s brother?
The man continued to work through his routine, each time getting a little bit slower as exhaustion began to take over.
Thud… clack… bump….
Katie decided it was now or never.
“Hello? I was looking for James Haines. Does he still live here?” she said in her most casual voice.
The burly man stopped what he was doing and froze, not looking up.
“James Haines? Does he live here?” she repeated and walked toward the man.
The man slowly looked up and then straightened—even taller than Katie had anticipated. He lifted the ax and seemed he was about to attack.
“Stop!” Katie yelled and drew her weapon in one swift action. “Stay right there! Now, drop your weapon.”
The man didn’t move, the ax still above his head.
“Take it easy. I’m just looking for James Haines. He’s not in trouble. I’m a friend of his brother.”
“Who are you?” he said.
