The Fragile Ones

Book 5: Detective Katie Scott

by Jennifer Chase

Genres: Police Procedurals; Crime Fiction

Synopsis

“Please Mommy, can Tessa and I go play on the swing by the creek?” the little girl begs, pushing a blonde curl from her eyes. “We'll stay together, and we promise to be safe.” Hours later, their mother waits anxiously for her darling girls to arrive home with a list of reasons why they are late. But the front door never opens...

When the bodies of eleven and twelve-year-old sisters, Tessa and Megan, are found at the bottom of a ravine—dressed in matching pastel summer outfits, their small bodies broken from the fall—Detective Katie Scott is called to one of the most shocking and heartbreaking crime scenes of her career.

Carefully picking through the fragile remains, Katie makes the first of many disturbing discoveries: the girls were not biological sisters. The youngest, Megan, is a DNA match to a kidnapping case years before. The tiny number burnt into her skin the mark of a terrifying killer intent on keeping count of his collection.

Her PTSD from the army triggered, Katie is left reeling as she maps other missing children in the local area. Has this twisted soul found a way to stay nearby his victims? Could he be watching now as Katie hits one dead end after another?

A wild storm building, matching a fiber found during the autopsy to a nearby boatyard is the break Katie needs. But when another girl goes missing, just as lightning strikes and the power goes out, Katie only has her instincts, her team and her service dog to rely on. As time runs out for Katie to finds the stolen child alive, who will become the next number on this monster's deadly list?

Fans of Lisa Regan, Rachel Caine and Melinda Leigh, you better buckle-up for the ride of your life! BEWARE – this gripping crime thriller is guaranteed to keep you up all night!

Everyone is talking about Jennifer Chase:

‘THERE WAS NO WAY I WAS PUTTING THIS BOOK DOWN!!!!!... I was literally holding my breath... I HAD TO KNOW!!!!! As for the explosive ending? WOW definitely not what or who I was expecting.' Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars

‘Hooked from the start. I couldn't stop reading. I just needed to find out what happens next with Katie and the case. Katie is a total badass... I loved the story sooo much... awesome book. I recommend it to everyone.' Mama Bear's Book Shelf, 5 stars

‘Totally loved this creepy thriller!! The characters were amazing and drew me right in... This one cut deep on the emotional scale. I highly recommend this book.' NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars

‘One hell of a scary and unpredictable rollercoaster ride with several twists and turns along the way. On more than one occasion I almost had to read through my fingers as I feared what was going to happen next. A brilliant, and highly recommended read.' Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars

‘This series just gets better and better... I envy you the binge read... I'm already looking forward to the next one!' Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars

‘Brilliant! Brilliant! Absolutely freaking brilliant!!... Fantastic and so real.' Shalini's Books & Reviews, 5 stars

‘Wow!!! What can I say about this page-turning, nail biting crime thriller!! It was absolutely fantastically written and had me completely hooked from the first page... filled with nail biting suspense... kept me hooked.' BookWorm86, 5 stars

Release date: March 8, 2021

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 359

Sample

“Please can we go?” whined Tessa as she followed her mother through the living room and into the kitchen. “Please,” she said again, pushing her blonde curls away from her eyes. “I really want to go to the swing by the creek.”

“Not by yourself,” countered Mrs. Mayfield, ignoring her daughter’s angry stare. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“Yes, and you said I couldn’t go alone, and I’m not. Megan will be with me.” Tessa’s older sister was barely a year older and her best friend. Her mother began emptying the dishwasher, putting plates and glasses away in the cabinet. It was unclear if she was thinking about what Tessa had said or not, so she tried again. “I’m almost eleven and Megan is almost twelve. We’re practically teenagers,” she said. “Besides, Janey and her brother will probably be there.”

Mrs. Mayfield laughed. “You know, you would be a good lawyer the way you make your case.”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer. I’m going to be a vet,” Tessa said, grinning.

“Well, I know you are going to be whatever you want to be.” Mrs. Mayfield laughed to herself as she slipped the last piece of silverware into the drawer and turned to face her daughter. At the sound of her name, Megan had joined Tessa in the doorway and they both stood quietly waiting for an answer. Glancing at the wall clock with a sigh, she said, “You both have to be back by four thirty, not a second later. Understand?”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Tessa said, grabbing her sister’s hand in glee. Both girls were in denim shorts and pastel T-shirts with their favorite matching blue sneakers.

“Be home on time,” their mom called after them.

“We will,” chimed the girls.

Mrs. Mayfield heard the front door shut, followed by the sound of running footsteps.

She smiled and went back to her chores as the afternoon ticked by.

At 4:45 p.m. Mrs. Mayfield was waiting impatiently to hear the girls enter the house with a list of a dozen reasons why they were late—but the front door never opened. An hour after that, unable to wait any longer, she looked outside, thinking that the girls might be in the yard.

Debris from a croquet set littered the lawn; the wooden mallets abandoned and colored balls scattered as if the girls had been playing only moments ago. The trampoline in the corner had one of the girls’ bright blue sweatshirts hanging on the edge. It swayed slightly in the breeze.

There was no sign of them.

She ran through the house to the backyard, but it, too, was deserted. No whispers. No giggles. No shrieks of laughter. The wind was picking up and whistling through the branches and leaves of the surrounding trees—almost whispering a warning.

Mrs. Mayfield pulled off her apron and reached for her coat, deciding to walk to the creek and bring the girls back herself. At this point, she was more angry than concerned, knowing how they could be forgetful when they were having fun, and often lost track of time.

But surely they would be on their way home by now? she thought to herself as her pace quickened from a fast walk to a jog. Against her better judgment, and knowing that she couldn’t shelter them forever, she had crumbled and let them go down to the creek where one of the neighboring boys had constructed a swing that they loved to play on.

And now fear ripped through her body. “Tessa!” she yelled. “Megan!” Terrible scenarios shuffled through her thoughts as she tried desperately to keep her emotions on an even keel.

“Tessa! Megan!”

She yelled their names over and over until her voice went hoarse. Her chest felt strangely heavy and her vision blurred as she ran, but her strength and mother’s instinct pushed her forward, down the trail leading to the creek. The trail was well-worn by local kids looking for adventure and fun. Stumbling as she ran, she frantically turned left and then right. There wasn’t a soul around… She was alone. She kept moving.

Looking up at the tall pine trees, everything spun in a dizzying blur of forest and darkening sky. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and open again, then stopped for a moment to listen.

The swing was only visible at the bottom of the path just above the creek and she could hear the water rushing below. Peering over the edge, there was no sign of them—or anyone. She kept turning, expecting to see her girls everywhere she looked. They weren’t there. All around her were discarded candy wrappers and remnants of fast food containers. Proof that children played here often.

There was no sound apart from the whisper of the trees. No children laughing nearby.

“Megan! Tessa!” she yelled again, but there was only silence. She ran all the way up the trail to the street, still calling their names in a full-blown panic.

Mrs. Mayfield turned her attention up the road, her mother’s instinct in high gear. Something blue lying beneath a bush caught her eye and she ran towards it.

She leaned down and her hand trembled over the light blue canvas before she forced herself to grab the abandoned blue sneaker.

“No,” she said, barely breathing.

Written on the side tread of the shoe with a thick black pen was one word: Tessa.

Tuesday 1945 hours

“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, and really impressed at how hard you’ve been working to tackle your anxiety,” said Dr. Carver, her calm voice and serene expression beaming through the computer screen.

“I’m finally feeling like I’m in control and not the other way around. I can actually say that a weight has been lifted,” said Katie Scott as she took a deep breath and tried to visualize her worries and fears leaving her body as she’d been taught. She then readjusted herself on the couch with Cisco, her jet-black German shepherd, at her side.

“I want to insert a bit of caution,” said Dr. Carver.

Katie didn’t want to hear anything negative to take away how great she had been feeling recently, but she knew that Dr. Carver had been right about many things so far. She braced herself and listened.

“This process will sometimes involve great steps forward and then surprise you with unexpected setbacks, but I don’t want you to become discouraged. Okay?” The doctor continued to makes notes just out of view, pushing her dark hair away from her face to concentrate.

“I understand,” said Katie.

“Do you still have nightmares?”

“Sometimes, but they are becoming less frequent.” The truth was that she had disturbing dreams a couple of times a week, but she’d had them so long that she only really counted the truly terrifying ones. They’d become such a familiar part of her life.

“That is common—so don’t worry. And taking into consideration your job as a cold-case detective and its unique stresses, it’s best to be alert, calm and prepared for what your next case will bring,” she said, and smiled. “There might be some setbacks, but it won’t take away all the hard work you’ve put in. You are in a much better place now.”

It was true. Katie had come a long way since she arrived home a little more than a year ago from two tours in Afghanistan as an army K9 handler. She glanced down at Cisco who was snoozing beside her. Not a day would go by where she wasn’t grateful for being able to bring home her partner with her. “Thank you, Dr. Carver.” She smiled. “I know there will be tough days ahead, and my past experiences will haunt me from time to time—but I’ve never given up on a fight.”

“And that’s when all your new skills and knowledge will kick in, and you’ll be much better prepared.”

“I know now that the first case I took on after I came home from the army caused me more distress than I realized. The image of the graves of those little girls will never leave me.”

“I know, but now you can use the fact that you overcame your demons and solved the case as a strength. Don’t forget what we’ve talked about; how you stay focused and in the moment, counting to ten with each breath. As simple as it sounds, it’s more difficult when you’re in the middle of an attack.”

“Yes. I have several images that help to calm my mind,” she said.

“Well, look, our time’s up for today. And I think that we can meet again in two weeks?”

Nodding, Katie said, “Definitely.”

“You know you can call me anytime, if you need to speak before then. Okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Good night.”

“Good night,” said Katie as the screen went blank, before the screensaver kicked in with a photo of her and Chad—her childhood best friend and now boyfriend. It was amazing how they had found each other again, and on this occasion the timing was right. She smiled, remembering everything they had been through growing up together, and then finding each other again at the perfect moment.

Slowly shutting her laptop, Katie mused that things were falling into place at last. Perhaps for the first time since leaving the army she felt it was possible to be a police detective and lead a normal life. There were things that she had seen that would never be erased from her mind, but she was learning how to live without panic attacks and anxiety paralyzing her. She was learning to forgive her past, and herself.

Wednesday 1015 hours

Detective Katie Scott left the Sequoia County courtroom where she had been called to testify for a case she had worked involving a missing person, which had turned out to be a murder. She was surprised that she was only questioned for about half an hour and then excused. She would probably be recalled for the defense.

Katie passed a few familiar faces as she descended the marble stairs, heading back to the main entrance. The old Californian courthouse building, originally built in 1895 and named the Muir Building, was still as stunning as it would have been all those years ago; detailed crown moldings and rich, polished mahogany transported you back in time.

Trailing her hand along the wrought-iron railing, Katie stepped off the stairs and hurried to the large wooden doors where Deputy Sean McGaven stood waiting for her. It was difficult to miss him, since he was about six foot six inches tall, and with his cropped light red hair, brown suit and white shirt; he looked official and handsome as he towered over people.

“Hey, Gav,” said Katie as she greeted her partner. “What’s up?”

“Oh great, you’re out already,” he said.

“What’s the hurry?”

“The sheriff wants us to meet him in his office—like, ten minutes ago.”

“What’s it about?” she asked, wondering why he hadn’t texted or called her. Sheriff Scott, her uncle, never held emergency meetings unless there was a very important reason. Her mind began to search through the cold-case files she had been investigating recently—it most likely had something to do with one of them.

“Don’t know.”

“And you drove over here to tell me in person?”

“C’mon, I’ll race you back,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Katie had finally purchased a new car after her old one was totaled in a high speed chase. She took almost two months to decide what type she wanted. McGaven clearly wanted to check out her new wheels.

“Nice…” he said, as she led them over to a black Jeep SUV and disengaged the lock.

“This was the only car I really liked.”

“But more importantly, how does Cisco like it?”

Katie laughed. “He likes it just fine.” A minute later she followed McGaven out of the county parking lot, and headed to the sheriff’s department a few blocks away.

As soon as she was parked up, Katie grabbed her briefcase and got out of the vehicle.

Jogging up to her, McGaven said, “We don’t have time to stop at the forensic lab first.”

“What’s the hurry? What do you know that I don’t?” she asked, hurrying to keep up with McGaven’s long stride.

“Nothing, I swear.”

They quickly entered the building, but instead of going to the forensic lab where their cold-case office and files were located, they went straight up to the administration area where the sheriff and top supervising personnel had their offices.

It amazed Katie that whenever she went to the sheriff’s office her heart still beat just a bit faster. Her uncle was the one who stepped up to raise her after her parents died in a car accident when she was a teenager, and he was the only family she had now—but he was a strict boss. They had been through a lot together, and had their differences, but they had always managed to work them out and their bond had only become stronger.

Katie reached the sheriff’s office only to find the door was shut, which seemed strange. He usually had the door wide open when she arrived for a meeting or an update on cold cases. There were low voices and some laughter coming from within, which made her wonder even more about what was going on.

Hesitating, she raised her hand and knocked twice, McGaven waiting behind her.

“Come in,” came the familiar authoritative voice from the other side.

Katie took a deep breath and opened the door, taken aback for a moment when she saw the group that was assembled inside. She glanced to McGaven, seeing the same confused expression on his face.

Sheriff Scott, Undersheriff Dorothy Sullivan, the new Mayor Brendon Brown, and two casually dressed men that Katie didn’t recognize stared back at them.

“Please, Detective Scott, Deputy McGaven, come in and take a seat,” said the sheriff. With close-cut gray hair and his immaculate uniform, her uncle looked strong, distinguished and authoritative. Katie felt her stomach drop. Was one of her cold cases coming back to haunt her, or was it just her anxiety kicking in? She sat down next to McGaven.

“Mayor Brown has asked a favor from the department, and I’m inclined to grant it,” the sheriff said.

Favor?

The sheriff continued. “Detective Scott and Deputy McGaven, I would like for you both to meet Matt Gardner and Emir Patel. They are part of an award-winning documentary team—Wild Oats Productions.”

Katie and McGaven nodded politely and glanced at each other.

“Matt is the director and Emir is the camera operator and assistant director,” Scott explained.

Katie was still clueless as to what a film company had to do with her.

“Detective Scott, it would be helpful for everyone involved if we all work together,” piped up the undersheriff as she looked at Katie.

“Maybe I can explain.” The mayor spoke up, noticing Katie’s and McGaven’s confused expressions. He was newly appointed, younger than any previous mayor, and extremely ambitious. “I’m familiar with Matt’s film work—which is extraordinary, I might add. They approached me because they want to film in our city and county areas for a new documentary—actually several areas around California. They want to explore how so many of these great cities and towns wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the early settlers, and the decisions they had made. Basically, separating facts from stories passed down—filming from a different angle. I think it’s fantastic because we have such rich history, and some unanswered questions from the past, which will make for great cinema and bring a lot of tourism to the area.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting, Mayor,” said Katie as politely as she could, thinking about her next cold case getting colder by the minute. “That sounds great but I don’t understand why McGaven and I are here?”

“Well,” Mayor Brown continued. “The production company has requested a guide to give them a tour of some of the more rural areas, especially those surrounding the sink holes and near the ghost town of Silo.”

Katie felt her nerves tingle and her stomach tighten, suddenly realizing where all this was going. The mayor kept talking, but she only heard white noise as her mind recalled previous events…

“So I thought, since you had worked the Chelsea Compton case, and of course are quite familiar with the area, you’d be the perfect person to show them around. I understand that the trails are a bit tricky to navigate, but you grew up here—it’s no problem for you.” He forced a politician’s smile. “What do you think?”

Katie only heard the name Chelsea Compton. Her heart had practically stopped. It was her first case after she had been discharged from the army. The experience had almost pushed her over the edge—even before she was promoted to detective. She could still see the delicate little body of ten-year-old Chelsea in a carefully crafted coffin with her arms wrapped around a teddy bear. She had moved on from all the experiences surrounding that particular investigation, especially the geological sink hole that had almost taken her life, and she didn’t want to go back. It was a harrowing experience that was a defining moment in her life that she didn’t want to repeat.

Sheriff Scott spoke up. “It would be a short tour to get them started, just something to help them scout some good locations and know where to stay away from. You have the most hiking experience of anyone I know. And quite frankly, we don’t have anyone else right now that I could send and feel confident about their abilities.”

Katie still didn’t answer. She looked from her uncle to the two men waiting expectantly for her response. “I don’t know what to say,” she said, hoarsely. “We have cold cases to process.”

“McGaven can hold down the fort. You can take a day or two to show these gentlemen around our great county,” said the sheriff, to Katie’s dismay.

How could Katie say no, with everyone staring intently at her, waiting for an answer?

“Of course,” she stuttered.

“Fantastic,” said the mayor. To the filmmakers, he said, “Katie is great and knows all the best spots and the best ways to get there. She can answer any questions you might have.”

“Thank you,” said the director, Matt, to Katie. “I promise we won’t take up any more of your time than absolutely necessary.”

Katie stood up, grabbing her briefcase. “I appreciate that. Well, I guess let’s meet here in the parking lot at 0800 tomorrow morning. That’s eight a.m. Wear hiking shoes and appropriate clothing—layers.” She smiled.

The director and assistant director both thanked her, as they also made to leave.

“Do you have four-wheel drive vehicles?” she asked.

“Yes, one, will we need another?” said Matt, scratching his neatly trimmed beard.

“Probably not, but it’s still a good idea in case you have any car troubles. You can rent one from Karl’s Rentals on Huntington Street if you need to,” she said.

“Thanks again, Detective,” he said.

As everyone filed out of the office, Sheriff Scott called Katie back. She waited until everyone had left and then shut the door and sighed.

Now with a softer tone, her uncle said, “I know this is about as appealing as going to the dentist for you, but it’s good PR and frankly we need it—I don’t need to remind you about previous incidents we’ve had here with the child murders and… the murder of your aunt Claire. Our beautiful county has been a little slow on the tourism and this will help.”

Katie sat down. “Yeah, well, I just hope that we don’t have everyone and their grandmother coming here to see the ‘sink holes’ or thinking we have some haunted ghost town to explore; that’s more than this small department can handle.”

“I know, I thought about that and we’ve been in contact with the proper county and state authorities to make sure that the fencing is properly maintained well beyond the geological dangers—and to keep a watchful eye on any erosion.”

Katie let out another sigh.

The sheriff laughed. “I know that look from when you were a teenager and you didn’t want to clean your room.”

Katie couldn’t help but smile, remembering all the good times with her uncle—even after the death of her paren. . .