Page 94 of Pretty Broken Dolls
“Yes,” she said and smiled.
Katie came to another photo. It was a smaller black-and-white shot of Darla with a German shepherd. It was familiar to Katie and she could barely contain her amazement and excitement. “This photo,” she said as she picked it up for McGaven to see. “Where was this taken?”
“Oh, Darla was in the army for two years. She wanted to earn her way through the military, and didn’t want us to pay for her college.”
“Was she a military K9 officer?” She wondered if the victims overlapped their time in the army.
“Yes,” she said. “Darla loved dogs. We had several while she was growing up. We thought she might be a veterinarian, but she decided to go into banking because she wanted to start a business of her own.”
Katie set the photo down. It brought back her own memories with Cisco. She realized how lucky and blessed she was that her uncle had had the connections to allow her to bring Cisco home. It made her transition much easier and she couldn’t imagine doing it without him. “She sounds like she knew exactly what she wanted to do.”
“She did. She always made lists, ever since she was about eight years old.”
McGaven watched Katie and then turned his attention to Mrs. Winchell. “Did Darla ever have any issues with the bank?”
“No. She said it was difficult at first. They expect a lot out of their employees, but then, like Darla always did, she settled in and excelled.”
Katie came back and sat down next to Mrs. Winchell. “I don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is for you.”
Mrs. Winchell fought back the tears as she touched Katie’s hand. “Nothing is more difficult than identifying your daughter’s body. Please, if I can do anything…”
Usually Katie was able to get through interviews with family members who had lost a loved one, but this time it was difficult.
McGaven must have sensed Katie’s unease, as he asked, “You said this was the house that Darla grew up in?”
“Yes. We bought the house just before Darla was born thirty-four years ago. Darla still has a room here.”
“Would it be possible to see it?” asked Katie. “Anything that might help us to know Darla better would be helpful.”
Standing up, Mrs. Winchell said, “Of course.” She climbed the stairs and stopped at the top landing. “Please excuse me, but I’d rather not go into her room right now. It’s the last door on the right. Stay as long as you like.” She turned away and went back down the stairs.
Katie and McGaven went directly to Darla’s room. For some reason, Katie had imagined the room to be that of a little girl, decorated in pink with a canopy bed. But instead, it was modern, almost like the rest of the house, but with personal touches. There was a double bed with a white comforter and lace pillowcases with two blue velvet pillows, much more luxurious than her apartment furnishings. There was a nightstand on each side of the bed with Tiffany-style matching lamps. A glass desk with a closed laptop sat on the other side of the room. A white bookcase was filled with old books from her childhood and some new business textbooks. It was tidy and organized. A large rug with a woven gray-and-blue design covered most of the light wood floor.
“Okay, I’ll start over here,” she said, referring to the nightstands. Standing in Darla’s childhood room, which had been updated through the years, made Katie feel the loss as well. Maybe it was something from her own childhood, but it was difficult to stay neutral to the situation.
“Okay,” said McGaven and he began his search at the desk. He sat down and opened the computer.
Katie had learned from experience to check the bed and mattress first. She slipped her hand in between the mattress and box springs hoping to find a journal, but found nothing. She checked the pillows carefully for any secret pockets. Again, nothing.
There were two small drawers on each nightstand. She opened them, but there wasn’t anything of interest inside, only items like lotion, gum, an old magazine, two novels and some earplugs, but nothing that would help them.
The other nightstand had similar items in the top drawer—empty notebooks, pens, keys and perfume. When Katie tried to open the bottom drawer, she found it was stuck fast. She finally pulled it out and inside, there were envelopes with letters addressed to Darla Winchell at her apartment address. It seemed odd. Why would they be here?
“Hey, I think I might have something,” said McGaven. “Check this out.”
Katie put the letters down, joined him and peered down at the laptop. “How did you get into her email?”
“She had her password checked to remember each time she logged in.” He clicked on the envelope icon. “Look at this,” he said and clicked on a file folder marked “Military.” There were many emails from people she met in the army, from dog trainers and military police to people in her training class. There was one email in particular from someone signing themselves just “DH.” Look at this.” McGaven clicked open the message.
The subject line read:Liars Reapand the message was three short sentences:You know what you did. You can’t take it back. The finale is coming.
“A threat?” she said.
“Looks like it.”
“Look at the date. It’s from a year ago.”
“And there are a few more, but they won’t open.”
