In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(106)
“Boston? No. Why would I go back to Boston?”
“I don’t know. I just thought—”
“Boston is in the past,” Dan said, still looking serious. “And you know I don’t like cities. Do you want me to move back to Boston?”
“No. I just . . . I’m confused. Start over. Where are you moving to?”
Dan smiled, and Tracy realized he’d been playing with her. “I found a little five-acre farm in Redmond that’s got a small fixer-upper on it to keep me busy, and a stream, and plenty of pasture for Rex and Sherlock.”
Tracy punched Dan in the arm. Redmond was just half an hour from downtown Seattle.
“Ow. I thought you’d be happy,” he said.
Tracy tried to be upset, but she could feel her entire face flush and couldn’t keep from smiling. “I’m not sure about this,” she said, playing coy. “What about your law practice?”
“Well, seeing as how most of my work is down here now, it seems to make sense.”
“So this is a business decision,” she said.
“I wouldn’t call it business. I’d call it very personal.” He leaned across the car and kissed her.
When their lips parted, Tracy said, “But you love Cedar Grove, Dan.”
“I do,” he said, reaching out, touching her chin, and drawing her closer. “But I love you more.”
They kissed again, and this time when they parted, Dan sat back. “Besides, I’m not selling the house. I thought it would be a great place for the two of us to get away on the weekends to do some fishing and hiking. Maybe play a little golf.”
Tracy cleared her throat. “You know I don’t golf.”
“No, but I can teach you.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. The last time you gave me a lesson, we ended up in bed together.”
“Oh, I remember,” he said. “And as your golf instructor, I’m recommending frequent lessons.”
“Then I’m hoping my second lesson will be tonight,” Tracy said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to all the readers who send me e-mails expressing how much they enjoy my acknowledgments. After eleven books, I’ve found this to be a place to not only say thank you, but to express how blessed and grateful I am for everyone in my life.
First and foremost, while I always get a kick out of reader e-mails and reviews telling me the towns in my books don’t exist—such as Cedar Grove in the North Cascades (My Sister’s Grave), let me say this up front. Stoneridge is a fictional town I created in Klickitat County. Yes, some readers may find some of the details of the town resemble White Salmon, a place I thoroughly enjoyed exploring for two days, but Stoneridge is not White Salmon. Why do I do this? Because it is never my intent to embarrass anyone or the town in which they live, and often readers write to ask me if the events in my novels are true—which is a good thing. Again, I write fiction. The events, like the towns and the characters that populate my novels, are fictional. The details pertaining to the White Salmon River, however, as discussed below, are true.
That being said, thank you to Maria Foley, executive director of the Mt. Adams Chamber of Commerce. When I arrived in White Salmon, I didn’t know where to start. Maria provided me with materials on the area, including its history, directed me to the local newspaper office and diner, and provided me with the names of several people who could help.
One of those people was Mark Zoller, of Zoller’s Outdoor Odysseys, which runs guided white-water rafting trips. I stopped by the Zollers’ office during my visit to the area, but, it being winter, the office was closed. I subsequently reached Mark by phone and quickly realized he was indeed the man I needed. Mark grew up on rivers and was guiding rafting trips for his father’s business before he could drive. He possesses a wealth of information and provided me with all the cool details on river flow, temperatures, and the specifics of the White Salmon River, including where someone might dump a body and the path the body would take. Timing did not allow me to actually raft the river before my deadline, but I walked a good portion of it, and next summer I’m hoping to take my family.
Thanks also to my friend Jim Russi, a Rotarian in Yakima, for taking an afternoon to give me a tour of the Yakama Reservation and show me some of the beautiful towns there. We’d discussed a barbecue at the end of the day but had a beer instead, and time ran short and we each had to ask for a rain check. Shortly after my trip, Jim lost his beloved wife, Kris, unexpectedly to cancer. I was deeply saddened to hear this news. I will continue to honor Kris by using her inflatable boogie board, which Jim shipped to me. I’ll think of her every time I’m riding a wave. Note to self: make time for the next barbecue.
As always, the people acknowledged below are experts in their fields. I am not. Any mistakes or errors are mine, and mine alone.
I am grateful to Kathy Decker, former Search and Rescue coordinator for the King County Sheriff’s Office and well-known sign-cutter, otherwise known as a “man-tracker.” Detective Decker first helped me when I wrote Murder One, and I was overwhelmed at the response from readers interested in her skills. She again was gracious enough to offer her assistance to explain how a tracker can follow signs that most of us would never see. This time I made her task even more difficult, asking her how she would proceed to analyze a forty-year-old homicide, but she was up to the task. It is a fascinating science, and I hope I did it justice.