In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(49)

“A few photos. Nothing alarming. We got the phone records. The father sent a text at 5:10 that evening saying traffic was bad, and he’d be a few minutes late.”

“Any response?”

“One letter. K. Overall, it’s been slowgoing.”

“Well, at least it gives you a little more time to spend at home,” she said, fishing.

“Yeah, there’s that,” Kins said, not sounding excited.

“Things not going well?”

Kins shrugged. “About the same.”

“I thought things were better after Mexico?”

Kins and Shannah’s relationship had hit a rough patch when Kins and Tracy were working late nights and early mornings on the Cowboy investigation; the case had taken a physical and emotional toll on everyone on the task force. When the investigation ended, Kins took Shannah to Mexico, without kids, and said it helped them remember why they’d married each other in the first place.

“It was, for a while. You’d think me being around more would be a good thing, but it seems like we just get on each other’s nerves.”

“What about?”

“Name it,” he said, offering a sad laugh. “It feels like she’s paying me back for being gone so much. She leaves to play tennis or go to her book club. And she’s at the gym all the time.”

“You could join her.”

He gave her a look, one eyebrow arched. “Tennis? With my hip? And her book club, as far as I can tell, is just an excuse for the wives to drink wine and rag on husbands. I don’t think I’d fit in.”

“You can’t fault her for having a life, Kins. We’re gone so much.”

“I know.”

“What about counseling?”

“Been there.”

“What about more counseling?”

“I don’t know.”




Anthony Holt’s office was on the second floor of a building not far from the University of Washington. He specialized in family law, and his partner specialized in wills and estates. Holt met Kins and Tracy in a modest lobby, and they walked across the hall to a conference room he shared with other lawyers on the floor. Tracy estimated Holt to be in his midforties, though prematurely gray, which gave him an authoritative appearance. He was marathon-runner thin.

“You were Mr. Collins’s divorce attorney,” Kins said after they’d settled into chairs.

“I was. I was sorry to hear about what happened to him.”

“How did you hear?”

“Angela’s divorce attorney called and advised me.”

“When was that?”

“It was the day after the shooting.”

“What time?”

“It was in the afternoon. I could get you a specific time, if it’s important.”

“What did the attorney tell you?”

“She said Angela had called her and told her what had happened. She wanted to file the paperwork to dismiss the divorce and begin probating the estate.”

Kins shot Tracy a glance. Angela must have called first thing after leaving jail. “Do you know when that paperwork got filed?”

Holt smiled. “I do. Bright and early Monday morning.”

“That surprised you.”

“Surprised?” He smiled again. “Nothing surprises me in this area of the law. Just . . .” He paused to choose his words. “Just seemed quick, given the circumstances.”

“Like the fact that she was in jail until Friday afternoon?”

“That thought crossed my mind, yes.”

“And she was facing a murder charge and the prospect of a long sentence?”

“That also.”

“Any thoughts why she’d be in a hurry to file the paperwork?”

“The sooner the divorce proceeding is dismissed, the sooner the estate can be probated and the sooner she gets the money. But I tend to be cynical about these things.”

“How contentious was the divorce?”

“Scale of one to ten, this was a six, but only because Tim did a lot to not escalate things.”

“Can you explain what you mean?” Kins asked.

“Angela was pushing for fifty-eight percent of the assets. In the interim she was blowing through a lot of the money. She kept asking Tim for more and chiding him when he refused.”

“Do you know how she was spending the money?”

“No. That was the problem. She claimed it was everyday living expenses, but in three months she’d spent close to forty-five thousand dollars, and every time we asked for receipts we got the runaround. Her attorney couldn’t explain it either. Tim suspected she was squirreling it away or using it to fix up the house.”

“How close were you to getting a resolution?”

“Not close. We went to mediation, but it didn’t last long. I didn’t see it resolving without a trial.”

“Most cases settle, don’t they?” Kins asked.

“Ninety-five percent or more.”

“So why not this one?”

“Again, I’m probably biased, but from my perspective Angela had dug in her heels and wasn’t going to budge. I’m also not sure she wanted to settle.”

“What do you mean by that?”