Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,56

it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.

There was one bulldozer and another large piece of equipment still sitting where it had been left. The other oversized work vehicles must’ve been picked up for other jobs. The yellow tape cordoning off the area to the public had been removed.

Katie slowly walked along the large flat stones that led to the main entrance of the mansion, looking up at the missing decorative pieces around the windows and doors and remembering what the house had looked like after it was finished by the Von Slovnicks. The porch they had stood in front of for the photo was almost non-existent now.

Recalling all the historical information from the county archives, she didn’t remember seeing or hearing about why the previous owners wanted to donate this house for the girls and the county.

Where they just being charitable? Philanthropists? Or, was it something more personal?

Sara and Jonathan McKinzie lived there twenty years before donating the house, but there was no other record; no real estate, no other charitable contributions, no photographs of them. McGaven hadn’t found anything about them—yet.

Katie heard a car coming up the long drive, gravel crunching under the tires.

Cisco gave a couple of warning barks, but settled back down again after he knew it was McGaven.

Katie watched him park his large truck next to the police sedan and get out. He gazed around the area before jogging up to greet her.

“Glad you could make it,” she said.

“We should check out those containers.”

“I thought the same thing. Maybe we were hasty?”

“Thinking we should have searched them on our first visit?”

“Maybe. But we can’t officially now.” She turned and headed toward the house.

Keeping up with Katie’s pace, he said, “If we find something, that’s a big if, it can still be used to guide the investigation, just not in a court of law. Right?”

“That’s true.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Get inside the house, if we can.”

“You want to look at the staircase, am I right?”

“Of course.” She steered them around the right side of the house to the storm door she’d seen on her first visit.

“Where are you going?”

“I think there’s an easier entrance from the basement.”

When they reached the door to the basement, Katie stepped inside and looked around.

“It’s creepy in here,” said McGaven.

“You can say that again, but… don’t please.”

They reached the wooden stairs and headed up, into the house—taking each step gently in case the old wood splintered or gave way under their weight.

Katie reached the top where there was a big door; she pushed but it wouldn’t budge. She shoved harder—the same result.

“Need some help?” he said, smiling.

She pushed again, resulting in a splintering sound. “I think it’s stuck, not locked.”

“Here,” McGaven said. Stretching up to his full height, he pushed. The door budged an inch. He shoved. The door opened with such a force it slammed open and then shut again.

Pushing it open again, Katie began to move forward into the old house.

McGaven took her arm. “You packing?”

“Of course. You?”

“Yep.” He let go of her arm. “Keep alert,” he said softly.

She nodded and stepped onto the threshold which creaked and groaned beneath her feet. She stopped. Then continued into what appeared to be the kitchen.

Most of the appliances, refrigerator, and built-in shelves had been removed. There were a few open places in the floor where she could see down underneath the house. They were on the first floor where there was a living room, parlor, and a big open area that fitted the fireplace.

Katie remembered the building plans and made her way to where the stairs were located.

“What are we looking for?” McGaven asked.

“I’m not sure.” Slowly moving through the hall, making sure that there weren’t any obvious safety issues or booby traps, she saw a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. It seemed like an odd place to have one. The shelves were empty and the overall condition was better than most of the house.

Katie ran her hand along one of the shelves—it was smooth and solid. She repeated it on a different shelf with the same result.

McGaven was lagging behind.

Judging the distance between the stairs and the back of the built-in bookshelf, Katie estimated it to be three and half feet. Staying focused, she searched for anything that wasn’t supposed to be on the bookcase. A weird scratch, hole, button, lock, and then… she found a slide mechanism beneath her fingers underneath the second shelf.

“Gav,” she said. “I think I found something interesting.” She slid the apparatus which made a dull clunk followed by an