Page 61 of Fight or Flight
It was time. Katherine couldn’t pass up this opportunity. She couldn’t have chosen a better place than the police station to reveal her identity. “Ma’am . . . I’m sorry, what is your name?”
“I’m Miss Lucy Anne,” the receptionist replied.
Tyler stood to the side, giving Katherine enough space, so it didn’t appear that they were together. Miss Lucy Anne hadn’t seen them enter together.
“What a pretty name,” Katherine continued. “So, Miss Lucy Anne, there’s this rumor—and I do hate to repeat rumors, but I have no other option. Do you know of the ‘crazy lady on the mountain’?”
“Ohmygosh!” Lucy Anne said it so fast that Katherine had trouble understanding her. “I have heard of her, yes. She’s a recluse, doesn’t leave her house. Some say she stares out the window all day and talks to herself. Such a waste, her living in that mansion. How in the world can she afford that place?”
Katherine glanced at Tyler. He gave her a slight nod.
“Miss Lucy Anne, could you please do me a favor? I’m sure this news will spread quickly, with you working on the police force and all.”
Lucy Anne’s brown eyes opened wide. She reminded Katherine of a cow.
“I would be more than happy to help you out. I didn’t get your name, either.” She pronounced “either” aseether.
“That crazy lady on the mountain is me. Katherine Celeste Winston, also known as K.C. Winston, the children’s author. If you could pass this info around, I’ll donate a book to the library in your name. Heck, I’ll even sign it for you.”
Miss Lucy Anne seemed to be at a loss for words. She stared at Katherine, then walked around her desk to the reception area where Katherine waited. She got as close as she could without touching her. She stretched her thick, flabby arm out in front of her, her index finger pointing at Katherine like a knife. “Listen up—I don’t spread lies around this town. I don’t know why you think I would do such a thing, but you need to leave now.”
Tyler moved toward her, but Katherine held her palm out, indicating she didn’t need him to intervene. “No, Miss Lucy Anne, I won’t leave. I’m with Dr. Newlon, and we have an appointment with Detective Davidson.” She turned her back on the woman, confident that she would spread the word about the “crazy lady on the mountain” as soon as they were out of sight.
Taking his cue, Tyler took Katherine’s hand, guiding her through the ugly cement block halls, painted a dull gray like many of the police stations she’d been to before. They were all the same: ugly and depressing. They passed two doors before she saw the plaque on the door of Detective Davidson’s office. Tyler gave a quick knock.
“Come in.” Detective Davidson stood when they entered. “Have a seat.” He motioned at the two utilitarian steel-gray chairs placed in front of his matching desk.
As soon as they were seated, the detective opened a file folder. “This Thurman has quite the record in Dallas. I can’t imagine why he’d travel this far to break into your home. Do you have any idea why, Miss Winnie?” Katherine did not like this man. She felt the old Katherine emerging. Sort of like how the Hulk transformed when he was pissed off.
“No, Detective, I do not. And please don’t call me Miss Winnie. You may call me Ms. Winston.”
The detective leaned back in his chair, his muscular arms across his chest. “Ms. Winston then. Do you have any idea why this”—he picked up the folder, using it to fan himself—“guy from Texas would come all the way to North Carolina just to break into your home?”
Katherine wouldn’t let him get under her skin. “Isn’t that your job to figure out? I’m not a detective.”
No way was she going to play a role in his intimidation game. She wasn’t a criminal, though he made her feel like one. She wondered if he treated all victims like this. She guessed in his youth, he’d been the type who stole girls’ lunch money and pulled their pigtails.
Tyler spoke up. “Tell us what other crimes he committed, Detective. I seriously doubt Ms. Winston has any clue about this man’s identity. She’s the victim here, as I’m sure you know.”
Detective Davidson began. “He committed arson and served eighteen months in juvie when he was fourteen. At sixteen, he stole three cars from a Home Depot parking lot. He worked there, which was one of the terms of his probation after his arson conviction; he had to hold down a job. All three vehicles were recovered, minus their catalytic converters. He was sent back to juvie for a year. He’s currently a suspect in a string of home invasions in White Rock.
“In yet another incident, three women claim he attacked them when they were coming home from working a late-night shift at three separate local bars in Irving, Texas, on three separate occasions. You want me to continue? There’s more if you do. This man is bad news, any way you look at him. So, I’ll ask again—why would a thief travel this far when the Dallas area has been his prime location all these years?”
If this man was Karrie’s father, Katherine needed to know. “Is he married? Does he have children? Any family you could reach out to?”
“We’re working on that now,Ms. Winston,” the detective replied.
The way he said her name made her feel dirty. He reminded her of her father. How could Ilene vouch for this condescending jerk?
“This is off the books. Otherwise, I would use all my resources, and I might have more answers for you,” he added.
“Then get the investigation on the books now. I don’t care who knows about it. Better yet, maybe you and your fellow officers should alert the public that we have a criminal on the loose. Isn’t that what small-town police officers do in a situation like this? Or do you call in the big guys?”
“It depends.”
“On what? If the person has a reputation as crazy? Loony? A nutcase? I could go on, but I’m sure you know what I mean. I believe the safety of a young girl might be at stake, so use all the resources you have. You have my permission. If you need more, let me know. I’ll pay. Money is no object.” This was more of the new version of herself. Normally she would think flaunting her money in this way was tacky. But now that it suited her current situation, she would do what she needed to protect Karrie. If her story were true. She felt it possible that the blood of Karrie’s evil father might flow through her veins.
“Why do you believe there is a young girl involved? Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Detective Davidson asked. “Hiding evidence or witnesses is against the law.”
