Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,95

try to follow up on every possible lead.”

Mrs. McKinzie stopped applying her lipstick and turned to face Katie. “I like you, Detective. And I’m rarely wrong about people. I can count on you for your discretion about this, of course.”

“Yes. That goes without saying.”

“I love my life. I’ve been blessed with the right decisions, right pedigree, and with a lot of luck. But… I made one decision that I wish I could take back.”

Katie listened intently, trying to second-guess what the woman was going to tell her.

“I was seventeen when I got pregnant. As a silly girl, I thought he loved me and that we would get married and life would be wonderful.” She sighed. “But that didn’t happen, of course. I was forced by my parents to have the babies, and then give them up for adoption.”

“Excuse me, but did you say ‘babies’?”

“Yes, I had twins—actually twin girls.”

Katie’s heart almost stopped.

It couldn’t be—could it?

“What happened to them?” Katie managed to say.

“Well, my parents said they were adopted, but years later I found out they went into foster care. The horror of babies going into something like that—I just couldn’t bear it. So, I thought that donating Elm Hill Mansion to be a place for these foster girls would be a good thing. Since it was in the vicinity where I had lived and given birth.” She reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out an old photograph of the newborn babies. “I know this may seem silly, but the nurse in the delivery room took a photo for me and I’ve kept it with me all these years.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Well, my sin was paid for by me being barren. I could never conceive again. I’ve made peace with it.”

“I know that this is somewhat presumptuous and maybe even far-fetched…”

“Again, spit it out, dear.”

“Would your daughters have been twenty-three today?”

“Twenty-four in three months. Why?” Her dark eyes seemed to search Katie’s soul for what she was about to suggest.

“And you never knew what happened to them?”

She looked down. “No, but I pray for them almost every day.”

“Mrs. McKinzie, the girl that was found murdered at Elm Hill was twenty-three-year-old Carol Harlan, who had a twin sister, Candace Harlan. Both of them were the last girls at Elm Hill.”

“I see what you’re saying, but what are the odds? You couldn’t possibly think…” Her face turned pale as she struggled to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know, but would you risk the chance to find out? Here’s my card. Call me if you would like to meet Candace Harlan, or possibly have a DNA test done if you think that she might be one of your daughters. I’m sorry for being so blunt but you only gave me five minutes.”

Mrs. McKinzie was speechless as her eyes welled up with tears. She expressed gratitude and appreciated the kindness Katie had shown her.

“It was nice meeting you.”

Katie got up and left the ladies’ lounge. She was taken aback by the thought that was meant to be routine information about the mansion could result in a family reuniting and meeting for the first time.

“Hey,” said McGaven as he took her arm and spun Katie to face him, holding her tight. “No such luck with Mr. McKinzie, maybe you might be able to get his attention.” He studied Katie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just… We got what we came for… and more.”

Forty-Nine

Monday 1045 hours

McGaven was in the middle of printing out reports but nothing seemed to be giving him the information he was looking for. Frustrated, he said, “We keep uncovering interesting things, but not something that will get us a step closer to the killer.”

“You’re sounding like me,” Katie said. She had the arduous task of going over everything from the child protective services. She had spent her entire Sunday reading every word of the reports along with everything she had outlined so far. They were complete and detailed but nothing that would set them straight and in the correct direction. “Heard anything about Tanis from Spreckles PD?”

“No,” he said sourly.

“You making headway on the electronic version of the Hunter-Gatherer series?” she said.

“No. Everything is blurring together.”

“Anything that stands out?”

“No. What about those social worker reports?” he said.

Katie stopped and turned toward McGaven. “Well, for example, with the child protective reports, sometimes when social workers fill out forms, they may have someone else fill them out.”

“You mean like an assistant?”

“Yeah, or pre-forms. Where they have the wording all made up or phrases used as a