Page 92 of Her Last Whisper
Cisco barked and circled around Katie again.
“Good boy, Cisco,” she said.
“Why did you leave him here?” McGaven asked.
“I couldn’t release the dog into an unknown situation—he’s not officially a sheriff’s department K9. I kept him here to keep him safe—he would have heard me yell and responded if there was a problem.”
Eying Katie suspiciously and noticing the dirt smeared across her jacket, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, just my pride is suffering right now.” She laughed softly, brushing the dust off her jeans and jacket.
“You think that was the guy that has been following you and leaving messages?”
“Yeah.”
“Think he’s the killer?”
“No.”
“You seem sure about that,” McGaven said.
“He had several opportunities to kill me and he didn’t. He seemed curious as to what I’m doing more than trying to figure out how to kill me.”
They walked back to the cars with Cisco trotting behind them.
“You know what I think?” she finally said. “I think we’re right where we need to be. We know that all the women have some things in common—we have the forensic evidence. Everything circles back to the locations—allthe locations—the hospital, the crime scene, and the abandoned house. It’s where we’re going to find the missing puzzle pieces.”
Fifty-Three
Monday 0945 hours
“This is that part of being a detective that they refer to as ninety percent desk work as opposed to the ten percent getting your butt out of the chair work,” sighed McGaven.
“Sotheysay. Need some help?” she asked as she read through the reports for Emily Day’s death. There was no need to visit the medical examiner in person—no use seeing the remains of the poor woman if everything was in the report.
“No. I’m still running backgrounds on the suspects. It’s been slow, the system is not cooperating again.”
Both detectives remained quiet, lost in their own mountain of paperwork.
Katie quickly outlined the investigation’s progress report for the previous week that would be forwarded to the sheriff—she had been keeping thorough notes. She was surprised that her uncle hadn’t been hovering about complaining that she was taking too many chances or not getting enough sleep. Though he should know better than anyone that a detective on an active homicide rarely got enough sleep.
The internal office phone rang.
Katie picked it up. “Detective Scott.”
“Hey, Katie, I’m surprised I caught you in your office,” said Denise.
“We’re both here doing paperwork.”
“Yuck.”
“My sentiments exactly. What’s up?”
“I have an active address for James Haines. The person he’s staying with is Nadine McMillian. She’s the one on the apartment rental paperwork. According to various sources and the rental management company, they have been seen together on a regular basis.”
Katie was excited that something had broken in her investigations into the whereabouts of Nick’s brother and she hoped that the brothers could reconnect their bond. “You are nothing less than amazing—lunch on me next week. Thank you so much.”
“Maybe a double date for dinner? I want to meet that handsome firefighter of yours.”
