Page 72 of Pretty Broken Dolls
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Monday 1625 hours
Katie drove to Ink Tattoo, located in a small strip mall just on the edge of town. She thought about the tattoo and why Jeanine Trenton would want to have hers removed, since it was clear that she loved her time as a military K9 handler and trainer.
“You’re sure that this place removes tattoos?” she said to McGaven.
“Yep. And it isn’t easy to talk to someone at a tattoo parlor once they know you’re a cop. But this place seems more open and they said that they get a lot of veterans and military personnel.”
“And they said that they’ve removed military K9-type tattoos?”
“That’s what he said.”
Katie parked. She grabbed a file folder with a photo of Jeanine Trenton, since she was local to the area.
They got out of the sedan.
A couple of heavily tattooed men left the shop, giving both Katie and McGaven the once-over before they got into their oversized truck.
“Hi,” said McGaven and he gave a friendly wave.
Katie pushed open the door and turned to her partner. “Making friends?”
“Of course, everywhere we go.”
Katie stepped inside. She had never been to a tattoo or piercing place before. It was smaller than she had expected. There were three areas where tattoo artists would work on their clients. The chairs resembled a dentist chair, allowing the customer to lie back or on their side depending where the tattoo was placed.
Hundreds of designs festooned the wall from floor to ceiling, featuring everything from cartoons and flowers to faces of famous people and everyday items.
A very large burly man in a white tank top said, “Can I help you?” He had been putting away some ink supplies and wiping down one of the chairs.
“I hope so,” said Katie. “You are?”
He turned and looked at her. “I would love to helpyou. You can call me Big Daddy.”
“Well, Big Daddy. I’m Detective Scott and this is my partner Deputy McGaven.”
His face turned sour. “Cops? Why would I want to talk to cops?”
McGaven had been checking out the designs on the wall and quickly read the mounted business license. “Well, for starters, Mr. Robert Denton, we just want to know about any dermabrasions you’ve done recently.”
“That’s a new one.”
“Can you help us?” Katie asked, trying to sound more like a friend than a cop. “We’re investigating two women who were brutally murdered.”
He sighed. “Sorry to hear that. My sister was murdered by her boyfriend. He’s doing twenty-five to life.”
“At least they caught the person who did it. Would you mind looking at a photo?”
The big man moved toward Katie. “Yeah, sure. It’s slow today anyway.”
Katie opened the file and showed him a photograph of Jeanine Trenton.
He stared at it for a good minute. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure.” He looked closer at Jeanine and said, “Maybe. What’s the design?”
“Military K9. Have you seen or removed anything like that?”
“Well,” he said, “it would be in this file.” He pulled out a file drawer and fingered through records. “We’ve done a few of those dermabrasions in the past year.”
