Page 75 of The Fragile Ones
He turned his attention away from the computer and looked directly at his partner.
“Thanks.” Katie didn’t need to explain, she knew that he would understand.
He smiled and went back to work.
McGaven worked for almost two hours digging for information, while Katie made notes about exactly what transpired before the shooting while it was fresh in her mind—so that she could easily write a report before leaving for the day.
“I searched everywhere and for some reason I couldn’t get a recent driver’s license photo of Whitney Allen Mayfield, but here’s one from about ten years ago,” said McGaven.
Katie moved closer. Mayfield’s license showed him to have shoulder-length curly light brown hair, a scruffy beard, and he was wearing glasses.
“Is it me, or does it look like he’s wearing a disguise?” she said, closely inspecting the photo.
“You’re right. Something seems strange now that you say that.”
Katie pulled the photocopy of Tessa’s small album over and pulled out the image of Robin and Whitney Mayfield. “It’s difficult to tell if it’s even the same guy.”
“What was it that Rodriguez said about Whitney’s hair and clothes?” said McGaven.
“That he would show up at his apartment looking different. He would change his hair length or clothes.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“To fool people. To blend into a crowd,” she said. “It’s something criminals might do so that they aren’t identified easily.” She looked at the investigation board studying the killer’s MO:Overkill—level of violence exceeded what was necessary to do the murder; Knew or frequented the area; Someone the girls knew; Closest friend did dirty deeds for him; Many people in town were scared of him.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asked.
“We’re looking at this all wrong. Do you realize that everything reverts back to Rock Creek?” She stood up and went to the board. “Everything. The girls’ abduction. Mayfield’s home. Mayfield’s previous home. Robin Mayfield’s staged suicide. The addition of Tessa’s photo album to the evidence. Whitney Mayfield’s best friend Darren Rodriguez. The connection with the numbers 3 7 2. Another girl, Darla Denton, found murdered eight years previous. Everything points to Rock Creek.”
“Except the Mayfield girls weren’t found there.”
“Point taken, but there has to be some significance to that area. I believe that Mayfield isn’t far from Rock Creek and the crime scene area for any length of time. He seems to always come back. Chief Osborne has some serious explaining to do.”
You know all about him. You can reach out and touch him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sunday 1030 hours
After Katie had gone to the sheriff’s department that morning to catch up on paperwork and sift through all the case correspondence and reports, she was ordered by the sheriff to go home and rest—the usual protocol whenever there was an officer involved in a shooting. She tried to resist, but as she wasn’t going to sway him she opted to take the paperwork home with her. Grabbing a box, she loaded up everything that wasn’t nailed down and took a photo of her working investigation board as backup.
When she arrived home, Cisco was extra excitable and wouldn’t calm down. He spun and whined and barked. Katie felt bad because she hadn’t been spending any time with the dog. Like any soldier who had seen combat, Cisco needed to occupy his time in a productive manner; keeping him busy and exercised was essential.
Katie quickly changed into her running clothes and loaded Cisco, bursting with joy, into the Jeep. She drove to one of their favorite running spots. It was fairly secluded and he loved to run along the canyon trail.
While she stretched, Katie realized that she hadn’t been on a run in a while and it would help to re-energize her—clear her head of what had happened the day before. She needed to refocus her mind on the case, get a fresher perspective.
A gray oversize pick-up truck entered the parking area and did a slow circle, coming close to the Jeep and pulling to a stop. Katie couldn’t identify the driver due to the heavily tinted windows. There were no license plates on the vehicle, just a paper flapping on the back identifying the car lot it had been purchased from. She hadn’t noticed the truck on her drive over to the park. Maybe it was her overactive imagination, but she preferred to stay on the cautious side. She looked down at the small, loaded .22 pistol she always carried in an ankle holster when she ran. It was a bit uncomfortable, but after all this time she had become accustomed to it.
“Cisco, here,” she said, and he obediently trotted over. Making sure he was close, she readied for their run.
The clouds were moving fast, making the late morning darker than usual. A few rolls of thunder rumbled in the distance, but there wasn’t any rain predicted. Katie took off down a narrow trail and then began to slowly climb in altitude along the canyon. She loved this run. The views were better than anywhere else in the county and she was able to feel the autonomy rise in her soul with every step. All her stress melted away into her rhythmic breathing, the clean air, and the lushness of the forest around her.
Cisco ran from her immediate view. She looked back when she heard him barking behind her to see his tail circling, tongue hanging out, and a look of pure joy on this face. His shiny black coat still glistened even though the sun wasn’t shining.
Katie laughed. “You’re a funny boy. Let’s go.”
After about twenty-five minutes, the dog following her at a fast trot, Katie came to a lookout area that had been well travelled. The soil was beat down and the surrounding foliage was pushed back. There was a camera affixed to one of the pine trees about twenty feet up. She had never noticed it before, but realized it must offer a wonderful panoramic live view of the valley for Internet viewing.
