The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(76)
Tracy held up her hand. “Dan proposed last night.”
“It’s about freaking time,” Del said.
“And you had to deal with this crap this morning?” Kins said.
“It is what it is,” she said, feeling surprisingly calm about the situation, even about Fields. Maybe it was just the afterglow of the best night of her life, or the thought that she and Dan were getting married. Or maybe it was something said by the most unlikely person she would have ever expected to impart wisdom. Maybe Nolasco was right, for once. Maybe she needed a way to shut out the job. Maybe she was being selfish. It was no longer just about her. Her decisions could now impact Dan and, someday, possibly their children.
Tracy worked her assault-and-battery and other felony cases until the end of her shift, shut off her computer, and pushed back her chair.
“You heading home?” Kins said.
“Yeah, I thought I’d make Dan dinner for a change.”
“I talked to Shannah,” Kins said. “She wants to have you and Dan over for a little celebration.”
“I got a better idea,” Faz said, standing up from his chair and slipping on his sport coat. “An evening meal hosted by yours truly and cooked by the greatest Italian chef who ever lived, my wife.”
“I’m in,” Del said without hesitation. “Vera’s cooking? Don’t get in my way, Fazio.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Tracy said. “Maybe you should talk to her.”
“Are you kidding? The only thing Vera loves better than cooking is sharing the food with friends. How about tomorrow night?”
“I’m off tomorrow, but let me talk to Dan,” Tracy said.
“I can do tomorrow,” Kins said.
“I can do any night of the week Vera’s cooking,” Del said.
“All right, then. Let’s do it tomorrow night,” Faz said. “I’ll check with Vera and you check with Dan.”
On her drive home, Tracy took a circuitous route. She wanted to take pictures of the Alki Point Lighthouse and the restaurant, something to commemorate the evening. She’d left her phone at home last evening, when Dan had proposed, thinking they were going for a walk with the dogs.
She stopped at the restaurant, taking pictures of its exterior from the sidewalk. As she turned to get back in the cab of her truck, she spotted an aluminum boat skipping across the water, and it made her think again of Kurt Schill. The young man had gotten the scare of a lifetime when he pulled up the crab pot and saw a human hand.
That thought made her recall her dream.
And what had been bothering her hit her like a dart between the eyes.
CHAPTER 24
The A Team gathered the following evening at Faz’s home in Green Lake, a middle-class neighborhood north of downtown Seattle that derived its name from a centrally located, natural lake. Faz had once told Tracy he and Vera borrowed $30,000 from Vera’s parents in the 1970s for a down payment to buy their two-story, 2,000-square-foot Craftsman home, and that the high interest rates of the 1980s had nearly bankrupted them. Now, with housing prices again soaring in Seattle, Faz was counting on the equity in the house to fund their retirement.
In addition to cooking, Vera’s other passion was gardening. She’d cultivated an English country garden in the front and back yards with stone paths, rambling rosebushes, climbing plants, and dozens of perennials that would have impressed the queen of England. Tracy had never seen it, but Faz had mentioned it, saying, “I like it because I don’t have to mow a lawn.”
Vera had ceded to Del’s request and cooked her famous lasagna. The seven of them—Del was divorced—sat around a simple dining room table beneath the muted lighting of a candelabra chandelier hanging from a box-beam ceiling. Tracy had worried Dan might feel out of place with a bunch of cops and their spouses, but the conversation had rarely strayed to work. Chianti and Merlot flowed liberally, and they ate in a dining room of dark wood walls and burgundy drapes that made Tracy feel as though she’d been transported to a home in a small Italian village. She had expected Vera to be exhausted waiting on them, and was surprised to find it was Faz who brought out the food and refilled their glasses, all done with a white dish towel over his right shoulder. It was clear he was proud of his wife and his home, and he considered it special to have them all together.
When their plates were filled with thick wedges of lasagna, salad, and garlic bread, Faz remained standing.
“Will you sit down, Fazio? I’m like a dog with a bone that I can’t eat here,” Del said.
“Hold on. Hold on. Vera and I got something we’d like to do.” Faz turned to Tracy and Dan. “When we got married, Vera’s father gave us this blessing. Now we pass it on to the two of you.”
Vera reached behind her and handed Tracy a basket containing a wrapped loaf of her homemade bread, a glass container of salt, and a bottle of wine. “The bread is so that you may never know hunger,” she said. “The salt is so that your marriage will always have flavor. The wine is so you will always have something to celebrate.”
Faz raised his glass. His eyes watered. “May you have many years together, and may the Lord bless you with happiness and prosperity. Salute!”
They raised their glasses and drank. Kins too wiped his eyes with his napkin.