“Thank you, Sheriff Scott. I won’t bore everyone and take up your time, but I want to say that I’m looking forward to meeting and working with each one of you. I’ve met with Sheriff Scott on several occasions and we have the same vision for the department. I cannot wait to get started and we can work together to make Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department one of the best in the state of California. Thank you.”
Katie looked at McGaven who seemed just as surprised as she was at the sudden announcement.
“Okay, patrol, you are dismissed,” the sheriff stated.
As the group began to filter out of the room, Katie and McGaven stood up to leave as well.
“Scott and McGaven, not you two,” Sheriff Scott stated. There was no inflection in his voice except business, which made it difficult to know if he had good or bad news for them.
They moved to the front line of desks and took a seat to wait and hear what their fate was at the department—and more importantly what was going to happen to the cold-case unit.
“First,” the sheriff began, “we want to commend you both for your exceptional work in solving cold cases for the department and the community, especially in such a short period of time. Your efficiency and creativeness have been exemplary. But…”
Here it comes…
“It has come to our attention that certain protocols have recently been taken without the proper channel of authority’s authorization. Detective Scott, even though the department commends you on your hard work and unfailing dedication, we cannot overlook some actions on your part…”
Oh crap…
“Taking an investigation into your own hands by trapping a killer and putting your partner and forensic supervisor in the line of fire is never acceptable. All without proper protocol and chain of command. Your personnel file will reflect these lapses in judgment, but it will in no way demote or change your current position. The reason why we have such chains of command is for your safety. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is for a law enforcement officer to follow the rules and get the proper authority to go through the proper channels. If we don’t follow simple rules, then we will be faced with chaos and potential loss of life.”
Katie fidgeted in her seat, but never averted her gaze from her uncle. She didn’t dare look at anyone else but she knew all eyes were on her.
“Now, on to the real business at hand,” the sheriff said.
What the…
“Since the latest homicide victim hasn’t been identified yet, but is not Candace Harlan the missing girl we first assumed her to be, this puts us in an unusual situation. We have decided, after careful consideration, due to the information available and the work already done on the Candace Harlan’s missing persons case, it should be headed up by the cold-case unit. If they deem additional help necessary, it would be proper to provide it.”
Katie let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She tried to wrap her brain around the fact that she was reprimanded and a permanent record of her conduct in trying to find her aunt’s killer would be lodged in her file, but she was still being given a recent homicide to investigate.
“Is there any problem with taking the case?” the sheriff asked.
Katie blinked and said, “No, not at all.”
“Good. Of course, John and Detective Hamilton will be available to you as well.”
“Yes, much appreciated.” Katie finally made eye contact with the rest of the group. John cracked a slight smile although Detective Hamilton’s serious expression was hard to read.
The sheriff went on to explain that they had to continue writing daily reports and submitting them to him and internal affairs. Katie’s mind went numb, still trying to work out what was going on. When the sheriff had finished, he excused her and McGaven and began talking with the other members.
Katie tapped McGaven on the shoulder and they just were heading out of the room when Undersheriff Sullivan stopped her.
“Detective Scott?” she said, her voice low and direct.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to tell you in person. I’ve read your file and the cases that you’ve closed. And I’m impressed—really impressed,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“And I really would like to chat with you sometime about profiling and victimology.”
“Yes, of course. I would like that,” said Katie, not really meaning it, but wanting to be polite nonetheless.
“Good. We’ll meet up soon.” She left.
In a whisper, McGaven said, “New friend?”
“Looks like it.”
Katie and McGaven hurried through the door and down the hallway.
“I’m sorry about the reprimand,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“C’mon, I think you’d be a little bit bummed.”
“No.”
“Yes you are.”
“Okay, maybe a little. But I would do what I did again in a heartbeat.”
Nine
Tuesday 0845 hours
Back in her office, Katie plunged herself into the investigation with renewed energy, filling out the lists of what they knew—even though the murder investigation had already started with an unexpected twist. Once she was finished scribbling on the big whiteboard, she stood back to take it all in from afar.
“I’m struggling too,” said McGaven, reading her mind. “Trying to get my wits around everything so far, especially after that meeting.”
His voice startled Katie, who had been concentrating so hard she’d forgotten he was in the room. “Our murder victim is our main objective,” she said. “But everything we know up to this point about Candace Harlan is also important. They are connected—somehow.” Her voice trailed off. She was stumped for the time being.
“What are the odds that a murder victim dumped at Elm Hill Mansion would so resemble Candace Harlan’s profile?”
“Well,” said Katie. “We need to start at the beginning.”
“Meaning?”
“The missing persons report and the crime-scene location.”
“Candace Harlan and Elm Hill Mansion.” He nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” she said as she flipped open the missing persons file and studied her notes. “We don’t have much from the missing persons report and the crime scene creates more questions than answers.”
“Isn’t that the way every investigation begins?” he said, trying to sound optimistic.
“Okay, wise guy. Have you found anything more on the house yet?”
“It looks like it was built in 1895, but that’s all, so far.”
“I could visit my friend Shane Kendall, the archivist at the county building, to search for anything about the house and property.”
“Sounds solid,” he said, typing something, hitting the “enter” button and sitting back to wait for the search engine to churn. “Oh.”
“Oh? What does that mean?” she said.
“The house manager, a Mrs. Shelly McDonald, maiden name Shelly Deville, is serving five years for burglary. Most likely be out in two.”
“Great. She might give us information in return for a good word to her parole officer. Her relationship status?”