Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,48

and the background on Hugh Keller. It made me nuts. I knew he was someone that hated authority but, when he had it, abused it to his personal gain.”

“I know,” McGaven said softly.

“I knew that he wasn’t going to cooperate and answer our questions here. Why would he? The best way to talk to him and get his undivided attention is on our terms—at the sheriff’s department.”

The rain poured. Large drops hammered the blacktop and small rivulets streamed down the sides. McGaven and Katie took cover underneath a roof overhang.

“Look, I love this job and working with you. I just don’t…” he tried to explain.

“I will be careful next time.”

McGaven gently squeezed her shoulder.

“Let’s move forward,” she said.

“You need a good night’s sleep and we’ll begin early tomorrow. Okay?”

“But what about—”

“I’ll handle this and make sure he gets booked in tonight. We’ll talk with him tomorrow.”

“But—”

“I said I’ll take care of it and write the report of the incident. I’m not going to accept anything else. Go home, Katie, and cool off, get a good night’s sleep.”

Katie felt her back ache and now the side of her face stung. She wasn’t in any mood to argue and she could tell that McGaven was upset with her—more than her lack of safety. Sleep was important and she needed it desperately—so she left the bar.

As she sat in the sedan, overwhelming emotions coursed through her body. It was odd that she wanted to physically hurt Hugh Keller and at the same time she wanted to break down and cry.

Gripping the steering wheel with what energy she had left, she watched a deputy escort Keller to the police car. As they walked by in front of her vehicle, Keller made eye contact and a slight lift of his chin to indicate that they would meet again.

Katie didn’t know if it was the rain that had saturated her clothes or the look on Keller’s face that made her shiver more. She knew that Keller had information that they desperately needed on the murders of Carol Harlan and Mary Rodriguez.

Twenty-Five

Thursday 2115 hours

Katie eased the car up her driveway and cut the engine. She had exerted so much energy that she was left with a drained body and a tired mind. She had completely forgotten about her online session with Dr. Carver and was riddled with guilt. The doctor had emailed her and suggested talking again in the same week—she had agreed.

With a quick text to the doctor, she wrote: Sorry about the online no show, investigation went long today. I’ll reschedule soon.

It was official, despite the good night’s sleep, exhaustion had set in and Katie thought she could barely make it out of her car and to the front door without having to take a break. The rain had stopped and only droplets remained on the trees, bushes, and driveway. There was a constant drip from the gutters cascading the excess water from her farmhouse roof.

She grabbed her briefcase and exited the vehicle with low energy. Unlocking her front door, she was instantly greeted by Cisco. His tail wagging and high-pitch whining as he circled her was the best greeting ever; it gave her a lift in spirit.

Quickly changing into her pajamas, she only had the energy to heat up a bowl of leftover chicken soup. She wasn’t hungry, but knew that she would still feel tired in the morning if she hadn’t eaten anything the night before.

After going to bed, Katie couldn’t sleep for tossing and turning about the day’s events and the confrontation with Hugh Keller.

Could he be the killer?

It was possible, but she knew in her gut that it was highly unlikely. As much as she would have liked for it to be him and the cases solved—and closed—there was much more to the cases and she just had to begin putting the pieces together.

Looking at her clock on the nightstand, it had barely been an hour since she had climbed into bed. She pushed Cisco to the side and got up. The dog wasn’t going to move from his warm spot.

Katie’s mind couldn’t stop spinning with the investigations. She also still felt guilty after missing her session with Dr. Carver.

Pulling on her sweatpants and shirt, she decided to go where she felt the most relaxed and where she could actually think about things: the porch swing in the backyard. It didn’t matter what time of year—it was still her private place, just like when she was a kid. No matter what