Page 93 of Pretty Broken Dolls
“We need to look for something that isn’t regular fair or carnival stuff. Something that is life defining.”
“That might be a great assignment for Denise. She likes digging for that kind of stuff.”
“Great idea.”
“I’ll call her on the way.”
* * *
Katie was relieved they didn’t have to drive to another small town, since it looked like it might storm soon. Darkened clouds resembling fantasy creatures loomed overhead. It reminded her of a metaphor for all things looming over the investigation that she couldn’t control.
They easily found Mrs. Winchell’s house, since she lived in a cul-de-sac located on Bridge Street. It was a nice two-story home, dark brown with white shutters, with two willow trees in front. The landscaping, part lawn and part flat stones, was meticulously organized.
Katie parked on the street in between two houses. As she got out, she was struck by how quiet it was, reminding her of Jeanine Trenton’s home.
Katie and McGaven walked up to the front door, which had a large oval stained-glass window featuring flowers, vines, and robins, and rang the doorbell, which emitted a beautiful chime. Within a minute, she saw a woman coming down the stairs to the foyer. She appeared younger than Katie would have thought. Slim and blonde, she moved with ease.
Mrs. Winchell opened the door.
“Mrs. Winchell?” said Katie.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Katie Scott and this is my partner, Deputy Sean McGaven.”
“Please, come in,” she said as she led them into the living room.
Katie noticed that Darla resembled her mother. She could also see that pain infused Dorothy’s expression and her words. Losing a loved one was something that changed you, defined you, and nothing would ever be the same again.
“Thank you,” said Katie. She marveled at the décor—high-end couches, tables, chandelier, baby grand piano, and exquisite paintings on the wall. The modest exterior of the house gave no clue to the beauty and meticulous decorating within. It was stunning, but felt lonely too.
Mrs. Winchell took a seat on the sofa as Katie and McGaven opted to sit across from her.
“First, we and the department would like to convey our sincere condolences. We are so very sorry for your loss.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Would you mind answering a few questions? I promise we will not take up too much of your time.”
“Of course. I want to do whatever I can.” She took a breath and seemed to brace herself for what Katie would ask.
“When was the last time you talked to Darla?”
“It was about a week ago. She would always try to make sure that she called me at least every week, usually in the evenings. I did wonder when she didn’t call me this week, but I assumed she was busy.”
“Did she seem worried about anything?”
“No, not at all. She was the same cheerful person she always was.” Her voice caught in her throat, but she composed herself.
“Had she ever said anything to you about someone bothering her at work or at her apartment?”
“No. But then, if there had been anything like that, she wouldn’t have wanted to burden me with her concerns. Darla was like that—considerate of everyone else’s needs.”
“Was she dating anyone?”
Mrs. Winchell thought for a moment before answering. “No one special. I think she dated a young man at the bank on and off.”
Katie saw the photographs along a table. She stood to see them clearly. There were photos of Darla and her parents in exotic places. “Such amazing photos. You traveled a lot.”
