In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(89)

Tracy began to ask herself if the entire investigation had been one big lesson in futility, and if that was what Buzz Almond had also come to conclude.




Tuesday, November 23, 1976



Buzz Almond drove home but did not immediately get out of the car. He sat staring at the small guesthouse he’d rented for his family. They’d have to move. The house wouldn’t be big enough when the baby was born.

He was now certain that Kimi Kanasket had not committed suicide. He was certain Eric Reynolds, and likely the other three members of the Four Ironmen, had come upon Kimi as she walked home along 141 and that something had happened—what exactly, he did not know, but words were spoken, maybe some high school juvenile exchange, and one thing had led to another horrible thing. They’d struck Kimi with the Bronco, running her over in the clearing. That’s why the ground was torn up. Buzz had compared the tread marks in the grass and mud with the tread on the tires on Eric Reynolds’s Bronco. From his perception the two matched. That’s why there were footprints going in dozens of directions. It had nothing to do with kids partying over the weekend. There had been no kids in town that weekend to party. There had been no one in town. They’d all left and gone to the big game. The ground had been torn up Friday night.

Looking at the terrain, he suspected they’d never intended to hurt Kimi, probably just to scare her, but they’d come over the top of that ridge and the Bronco went airborne, and then control of the situation was no longer in their power. It belonged to physics. What went up had to come down, and in this instance it came down fast and powerfully and smashed into Kimi Kanasket—damn near in the exact same spot where the town of Stoneridge had hanged an innocent man a hundred years earlier. Buzz could have forgiven those four boys for running Kimi down; what had happened after that, though, was unforgivable. What had happened after that had been a deliberate and intentional act. They’d tossed her body in the river like garbage.

Sitting in his car, Buzz also knew the four boys would never be convicted, and it was that knowledge that he was wrestling with, that was causing him to question why he’d become a cop in the first place, that was making him sick to his stomach.

He had gone over Jerry Ostertag’s head. He’d taken his information to his lieutenant. He’d sat down and told him everything he had, with earnestness and sincerity, and showed him the photographs. But even as Buzz spoke, he could see from the almost imperceptible grin on the lieutenant’s face that he was only being humored.

“How long you been on the force?” were the first words out of the lieutenant’s mouth.

Brownie points for you, Buzz Almond, you eager beaver, he must have been thinking, but you’re a newbie, and your inexperience is showing like a virgin on her wedding night.

His lieutenant wouldn’t do a thing, just like Jerry Ostertag wasn’t about to do a thing. The coroner said suicide. The circumstantial evidence said suicide. And they were satisfied, lazy, or didn’t give a damn. Buzz had reached a dead end. He’d intended to give his lieutenant the file he’d put together, but as he sat in that office he envisioned the file being shoved in some box and shipped off to mothballs in a dusty storage unit, discarded and forgotten, just like Kimi Kanasket. So he decided he’d file it himself, as an active investigation, knowing exactly where he could find it if he ever chose to look at it again.

Jerry Ostertag had not been happy with him. He’d made a point of confronting Buzz when Buzz finished his shift and had come back to the building to clock out. Ostertag didn’t mince his words. He’d asked Buzz who the hell he thought he was and what exactly he thought he was doing. He made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that what Buzz had done was not a good way to make friends, that cops watched each other’s backs, and that Buzz might want to consider that if he hoped to make a career out of law enforcement, especially in Klickitat County. It was all Buzz could do to not bust Jerry Ostertag in the mouth, but that would have definitely put an end to his career. And this wasn’t just about Buzz. This was about Anne and Maria and Sophia, and the baby on the way. This was about giving them a good life. He couldn’t sacrifice that for the satisfaction of knocking Jerry Ostertag out.

Buzz got out of his car and walked up the front steps. His feet felt as heavy as if cast in concrete blocks, and his heart felt hardened by the futility of his situation. When he stepped through the front door, Maria and Sophia came running barefoot from the kitchen, still in their matching nightgowns, hair in need of a good brushing, which Buzz would get to after their breakfast.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” they cried, voices sweet enough to melt an angel’s heart.

He lifted one in each arm, and they gripped him around the neck, nuzzling and kissing him. It was horrible to even think, but the thought rushing through his mind at that moment was that Kimi Kanasket was dead, and he couldn’t do anything more for her. These two little girls in his arms, showering him with unconditional love, and the third baby on the way, had to take priority.

Anne followed the girls into the room. Dressed in her nurse’s uniform, she was as beautiful and sexy as the day Buzz first set eyes on her, and just the tonic he needed that morning. You’re a lucky man, Buzz Almond, he thought, trying to convince himself. You are so very blessed.

“Okay, girls,” Anne said. “Finish your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Buzz lowered their bare feet to the ground, and they padded off on tiptoes. “I made oatmeal,” Anne said, starting to gather her keys to get out the door. “With some fresh blueberries.”