she kept it. The special bamboo stick that she would beat me with. Thrashing and thrashing until she was too tired to continue.
She wasn’t the only one who broke my heart—just the first…
Nineteen
Wednesday 1430 hours
Katie had dropped McGaven back at the office after she had received a call from Shane, the county archivist and researcher. He said he had found many of the original plans and contracts pertaining to Elm Hill Mansion.
As she drove, Katie reflected on the new information from Shelly McDonald and wondered if it was pertinent evidence, or mere gossip. It didn’t really matter at this point; they needed to run down every lead no matter where it took them.
First, they needed to understand more about Elm Hill Mansion because both victims were connected to it, and it seemed to be steeped in rumors and abuse allegations that didn’t amount to anything, but that now required some factual answers. Katie needed to know the truth.
She pulled into the parking lot for the Sequoia County Office Building and made her way to the building and planning department. Opening the grand doors of the old building – which was dated 1884 and still had the historical provenance to prove it – stunning vintage stained glass greeted her as she took the stairs to the second floor, even though she would eventually end up in the building’s basement where the files were kept.
Shane was waiting for her at the top.
“Hello, Detective,” he said as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
Katie smiled. “My pleasure. I know who to go to when I need more than just the property information from the Internet or the County Assessor’s Office.”
“The Internet is so incomplete, even though most people try to use it entirely for their research. That’s the first mistake. Just because it’s on the Internet, certainly doesn’t mean it’s correct.”
“That’s what makes my job more complicated,” she said. “Lead the way.”
“Of course.” He gestured.
Katie followed Shane to the back area of the planning and building department and over to a set of old wooden stairs leading down to the basement. Tucked away behind a door that looked like it should lead to a storage cupboard, the staircase and handrails were part of the original building and creaked loudly as they descended. Katie imagined how the early county clerks must’ve walked these stairs carrying handwritten documents before filing them accordingly. A string of small light bulbs was the only thing that lit the way, swinging slightly as they passed by and casting strange distorted shadows on the walls and steps.
“The county has promised to install more up-to-date lighting, but somehow, they don’t make any time or money in the budget for it,” he said.
“I don’t know… I think it adds atmosphere to the building,” she said. But in truth, it made her edgy.
Katie followed Shane to a rickety landing and then down four more steps to the basement. His thin frame easily navigated the stairs as he must have travelled up and down them thousands of times.
Once in the basement, the air temperature drastically dropped and there was a hint of moisture to it. Overhead automatic fluorescent lights flickered into life and filled the dank space, making it easy to see. There was also a light breeze from some type of air con or cleaning system pumping filtered air into the area and keeping the temperature constant. There were no windows, making you unaware if it were day or night outside.
The large room had been shuffled around since Katie had last been there. Large filing cabinets, architecture drawers, open cubbyholes of all sizes, stacked banker’s boxes with perfectly printed names and corresponding letters and numbers, two large mahogany desks, two desktop computers with large scanners, and a long backlit table for spreading out reports and architectural drawings.
“You’ve been busy since I was last here,” she said. “Wow, I’m impressed.”
“I’ve finally had some help to move things around.” He moved over to one of the computers. “I’ve just about finished scanning everything from the county from historical properties and houses pre-1930s. It’s taken a while, but now everything is in the county’s database—it’s not open to the public yet though.” He gestured to the empty stool. “Please,” he said.
Katie was still taking everything in and marveling at how much work it took to organize it. “You’ve done such a tremendous job, Shane—the county is so lucky to have all of this history.”
He smiled shyly, avoiding her gaze as he