The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(103)

“A development?” Orr had asked. “What is it?”

“I’ll know more tomorrow. Will you be available?”

“Yes,” Orr had said.

Tracy didn’t like being dishonest, but she also didn’t want to take a flight all the way to San Bernardino only to find Orr was not at home or had skipped town.





CHAPTER 32


Tracy succeeded in securing two aisle seats, one at the front of the plane and one at the rear, so she wouldn’t have to talk to Stan Fields during the flight. The guy made her skin crawl even before their little spat in the conference room over jurisdiction. Luckily, the plane was full, which would make her intent less obvious, though she suspected even Fields wasn’t oblivious to such things, nor did she really care.

She had a brief telephone conversation with Fields the prior afternoon to provide him the flight information before she left work for home. Neither of them mentioned the prior confrontation, which meant neither of them had forgotten it, but both were intending to bear a less-than-ideal situation.

Tracy arrived at the flight gate at just after 5:00 a.m. When Fields hadn’t arrived by 5:20, and the gate agent began to board the plane, Tracy hoped he might miss the flight, but no such luck. She saw him hurrying down the terminal clutching a McDonald’s bag in one hand and dragging a rolling suitcase behind him. He’d dressed casually in a polo shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes and what looked like a Members Only jacket.

“What’s with the suitcase?” she said when Fields approached.

“In case you’re right,” he said, “and it is the aunt and she knows where Strickland is. One of us is likely to have to stay a day or two while we get an arrest warrant.”

If they found Andrea Strickland still alive, they would have to ask local police to take her into custody while they obtained an arrest warrant from the court seeking extradition. Tracy didn’t say it, but she knew Fields would insist on being the one to escort Strickland back to Washington, if indeed she was still alive, so that Pierce County could take the credit. Frankly, she didn’t care about the accolades, and since it was a missing persons case, Fields would have the right.

The gate agent announced the boarding of passengers in Zone One. “That’s me,” Tracy said, turning for the gate.

“I hope this isn’t just some wild-goose chase,” Fields said.

Tracy didn’t bother to turn around. “We’ll both know soon enough,” she said over her shoulder.



She checked her cell phone for messages while she waited in the terminal for Fields to deplane. Kins had sent a text message asking that she let him know the results of her conversation with Penny Orr. When Fields stepped off the plane they made their way to the shuttle buses that would take them to the rental car counter for what her GPS said would be a thirty-minute drive, traffic always being the unknown in Southern California. Tracy expected Fields to press her for more information, but he remained quiet. The less he knew, she hoped, the less likely he would feel the need to interrupt her questioning of Penny Orr.

At nine thirty, traffic was heavy but moved at a steady pace. They arrived at Penny Orr’s apartment complex at just after ten. Tracy led the way to the second story and knocked three times. When Orr opened the door she looked curious, though not shocked, which meant she’d viewed them through the peephole.

“Detective? I thought when you called last night you meant that we would talk on the phone.”

“Sorry to come unannounced,” Tracy said, turning to introduce Fields. “This is Detective Stan Fields from the Pierce County Sheriff’s Office. They had original jurisdiction over Andrea’s disappearance.”

Fields extended a hand and introduced himself.

Orr looked and sounded flustered. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little out of sorts.”

“May we come in for a minute?” Tracy said.

Orr hesitated, then opened the door and stepped back. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m packing for a trip.”

Tracy noticed two large suitcases in the front hallway. “We’ll try not to keep you long,” she said. “Do you have a plane to catch?”

“What?” She paused, then said, “Oh, yes, a little later today.”

“Where are you going?” Fields asked.

“Florida,” she said. “To visit a friend.”

“You’re bringing a lot of clothes for Florida,” Fields said. “Most people I know live in shorts and tank tops down there.”

Orr smiled but otherwise did not respond. The apartment had the lemon-fresh smell of a disinfectant, and it looked as if it had recently undergone an industrial cleaning. The television broadcast the local news. Orr picked up the remote from the coffee table and shut it off.

“Can I offer you something to drink?”

“I think we’re fine,” Tracy said.

“I had my coffee fill on the plane,” Fields said.

They moved to the couches. Orr sat in the same location she had during Tracy’s prior visit. Tracy sat on the adjacent couch, Fields to her right.

“You said there might be a development?” Orr said. “It must be important for you to travel all this way.”

The most logical reason for a police officer to travel two states to talk to a relative of a presumed victim would be to tell them they had confirmed the person’s death. Orr looked anxious, but not as though she was awaiting devastating news.