Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,17
she stood back to take it all in from afar.
“I’m struggling too,” said McGaven, reading her mind. “Trying to get my wits around everything so far, especially after that meeting.”
His voice startled Katie, who had been concentrating so hard she’d forgotten he was in the room. “Our murder victim is our main objective,” she said. “But everything we know up to this point about Candace Harlan is also important. They are connected—somehow.” Her voice trailed off. She was stumped for the time being.
“What are the odds that a murder victim dumped at Elm Hill Mansion would so resemble Candace Harlan’s profile?”
“Well,” said Katie. “We need to start at the beginning.”
“Meaning?”
“The missing persons report and the crime-scene location.”
“Candace Harlan and Elm Hill Mansion.” He nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” she said as she flipped open the missing persons file and studied her notes. “We don’t have much from the missing persons report and the crime scene creates more questions than answers.”
“Isn’t that the way every investigation begins?” he said, trying to sound optimistic.
“Okay, wise guy. Have you found anything more on the house yet?”
“It looks like it was built in 1895, but that’s all, so far.”
“I could visit my friend Shane Kendall, the archivist at the county building, to search for anything about the house and property.”
“Sounds solid,” he said, typing something, hitting the “enter” button and sitting back to wait for the search engine to churn. “Oh.”
“Oh? What does that mean?” she said.
“The house manager, a Mrs. Shelly McDonald, maiden name Shelly Deville, is serving five years for burglary. Most likely be out in two.”
“Great. She might give us information in return for a good word to her parole officer. Her relationship status?”
“Looks like she was married to a Douglas McDonald and divorced ten years ago. No information regarding any contact after that.”
Katie stood up; her muscles were tight and a numbing headache pushed against her sinuses as she tried to see a way through all this partial information. “We need to have Denise run a report for those requests for police assistance at the house, and… can you find out the social worker, or social workers, who placed girls at that home?”
“On it.”
“If you can, we also need to find out who worked at Elm Hill Mansion. There had to be a cook, maid, groundskeeper, or someone besides the manager. They could be listed as county employees.”
“I’ll get on this right away, but it might be a bit of a waiting game for responses.”
“Maybe Denise can help?” she suggested.
“Denise is awesome,” he said as he sent an email to request information.
Katie turned to him and smiled. “She definitely is…”
“I ran background on Candace Harlan, but there’s nothing after the time she stayed at Elm Hill.”
Katie frowned, looking at her notepad. “Well, let’s go see what Crossroads Plaza Dental has to say.”
Looking up, he said, “Road trip?”
“You bet, let’s go.”
Katie drove with McGaven straight to the local dentist, not bothering to call ahead of time. She knew that Candace Harlan was a patient there from the x-rays forwarded to the medical examiner’s office, and she wanted to acquire as much information as she could on Candace’s last known whereabouts while she waited on other leads.
Pulling into the Crossroads Plaza shopping area, Katie easily found a parking place. There were three cars around back, probably employees, and two customer cars in front.
The building was large, square, one-story, and had many windows. It was a pretty structure with low-lying shrubs and a few late-blooming flowers hanging in baskets near the entrance. Two benches faced each other where patients could wait, and stenciled on gold strips by the door were the names Dr. Thomas Elgin, DDS and Dr. Francis E. McAlister, DDS.
“Dr. Elgin is Candace’s dentist,” she said and opened the wide glass door.
Inside, the air conditioner was on full force, which seemed strange since it was fall and the weather wasn’t at all hot. She caught the immediate smell of a disinfectant and other chemicals. The large waiting room had several couches with big pillows and a dozen chairs in rows. There was one man sitting in the corner waiting. He looked up from his magazine and gave Katie a once-over—it wasn’t clear if it was because she was a woman, or the fact that she had her badge and gun visible.
Behind a plexiglass barrier was a young woman with short brown hair, oversized glasses, and a neat blue uniform. Pinned to her top was a smiling bear face with the name Cara beneath.