Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,69
he said.
“Ambush, or opportunity?”
McGaven remained quiet as he studied the board.
“What’s the status of Jerry…”
“Jerry Weaver.”
“Yes.”
“I put another call in to him and sent him an email.”
“We haven’t received copies of any of the reports on the girls yet?”
“Nope.”
“So we’re back to square one, even after the event on Saturday,” McGaven said with doubt in his voice.
“Remember, Gav, even when there is no evidence found at a crime scene, it’s still evidence.”
He smiled.
“My big question is—who is the guy in the black hoodie who keeps showing up?”
“Do you think he’s followed you before?”
“I don’t know—I actually don’t think so,” she said slowly. “He seems to hang out at the places of interest for the investigations. The mansion and the new neighborhood when we looked for Amy Striker.”
“Why?”
“That is the question.”
“What about that piece of paper in your locker?”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “It doesn’t make sense. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What does this company have to do with the Harlan sisters or Mary Rodriguez? Was it a message for us to go to that container? To bring what to our attention? The house? The crime scene? Or just scare the crap out of us? Like a warning?”
“It could just mean nothing—something to throw us off the trail,” he said. “It could be just as simple as that.”
“I still think that if we find Candace Harlan—everything will fall neatly into place. Well, maybe not neatly, but it will set this investigation on a straighter path.”
“Do you really think that one: she’s alive; and two: we would be able to find her if she doesn’t want to be found?”
Pacing around the small office, Katie said with conviction, “Both homicides of Carol Harlan and Mary Rodriguez stem from the Harlan sisters—something about them or revolving around them. There’s a reason, a secret, something we’re not seeing.” She read the murder board one more time. “And where are you on Sara and Jonathan McKinzie?” She turned to McGaven.
“I’ve been trying to search for them through other means,” said McGaven. “I’m assuming that they have money and do a lot of charity work, so I’m seeing where they’ve been and that might help us find them.”
Katie nodded. It was important to talk to the McKinzies and find out exactly why they donated that mansion to this particular cause.
As Katie exited the police building, she was looking forward to going home and being with Chad and Cisco. Her body was still sore and she really noticed it after she had been sitting at a desk for several hours.
Her cell phone buzzed and the message said: Jerry Weaver is waiting for you at administration.
“Oh,” she murmured. McGaven had already left ten minutes ago, but she needed to get the reports. She texted her reply: Be there in five.
Thirty-Five
Monday 1725 hours
Katie decided to walk to the community entrance in the administrative building of the Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department. Since it was after 5 p.m., the receptionist had to unlock the door for anyone needing to get inside. There was usually someone there until 6 p.m.
Katie approached the two large doors and tapped on the glass. A friendly receptionist by the name of Dana unlocked the door for her. “Hi, Detective.”
Katie walked inside. “Thanks, Dana.” She looked around and didn’t see anyone, but there was a briefcase, jacket, and files on one of the chairs. “Where is he?”
“I think the restroom,” Dana said, returning through an unmarked door to get to the main reception desk.
Katie glanced at her watch and waited.
She heard a loud rush of water as the men’s room door opened. A man adjusting his glasses walked through and hesitated, then quickly tried to tuck his shirt into his pants. There was a large wet spot at the top of his shirt where he had obviously tried to remove a stain, with little luck.
“Mr. Weaver?” said Katie.
He looked up and said, “Yes, you’re Detective Scott? Oh, I was expecting a Deputy McGavnor.”
“McGaven, Deputy McGaven,” she corrected. “And yes, I’m Detective Scott. Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, indeed,” he said and extended his hand.
Katie immediately noticed that his palm was hot and sweaty.
He stared at her for a moment.
“Do you have some paperwork for us?”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry, it has been the busiest and somewhat worst day today. And it’s only Monday. I had to visit sixteen locations—sixteen cases. There just aren’t enough hours in a day—and I still have to visit four more.” He fumbled through his briefcase for a full minute,