The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(90)

Strickland quickly pushed back his chair, intercepting her. “Would you give us a minute?”

He stepped away from the table, water dripping from the umbrella onto his back as he did, and guided the woman inside the restaurant, though not so far that Tracy could not see them.

“You think he’ll bolt?” Kins asked, watching Strickland.

“Could,” Tracy said.

“He’s lying.”

“About something,” Tracy agreed. “About what, I don’t know yet.”

After a minute, the woman departed. Strickland rejoined them, ducking beneath the dripping umbrella. He sat back, sipping a glass of water.

“We don’t care who you were sleeping with, Mr. Strickland,” Kins said. “That’s none of our business.”

“What is your business here?”

“Finding Devin Chambers,” Tracy said.

“Did something happen to Devin Chambers?” he asked. “I thought you said she left the state.”

“That’s what she told people,” Tracy said. “According to a sister, that’s not the case.”

“And you think I had something to do with her disappearance?”

“Do you know if Devin Chambers and your wife ever discussed your personal affairs?” Tracy asked.

“I can’t imagine what they discussed.”

“Do you know if Devin Chambers was aware of your wife’s money?”

“I doubt it. I didn’t even know about it.”

“When did you find out?”

“Andrea mentioned it when we went to obtain a bank loan for the new business.”

“Did you ask your wife why she hadn’t told you before then?” Tracy asked.

“Of course.”

“What did she say?”

“She said her parents left it for her in trust and she’d only recently gained control of the money.”

“Did you ask her to use the money?”

“No.”

“No?” Kins said.

“No,” Strickland said, shaking his head. “She said the money couldn’t be used to start a business and I respected that.”

“It didn’t upset you?” Kins said.

Strickland shrugged. “Maybe a little at first, but we discussed it and I understood where she was coming from.”

“And you have no idea what happened to your wife’s money?” Kins asked, clearly pushing Strickland.

“I’ve told you, no. If she’s still alive, I presume she has it, wherever she is. If she’s not, then someone stole it. May I ask you a question, Detectives?”

“Sure,” Tracy said.

“Have you made any progress on identifying the woman in the crab pot?”

“We’re working on it,” Tracy said.



The old adage “When it rains, it pours” proved accurate. The summer storm did not blow through. It brought a steady rain, and a drop in the temperature. With no umbrellas, Tracy and Kins made a mad dash to the car, but were still dripping wet by the time they climbed inside.

“He’s a piece of work, isn’t he?” Kins started the car and turned on the heater.

Tracy diverted the vents, which were spewing cold air. “If he did kill them, he won’t be easy to convict; both murders were well thought out. We got lucky when Schill got tangled with the crab pot.” Tracy checked her watch. “What time are we meeting your Portland detective?”

“Three,” Kins said. “Let me call him and see if we’re still on schedule or if he can move it up a bit.”

“I’ll call Faz.”

Faz advised Tracy that he’d spoken to the FBI about the status of their forensic examination of the skip tracer’s computer. So far, it appeared the skip tracer’s client had logged on to a server in a public location, and the FBI was optimistic they’d at least be able to narrow that location. “Del and I are about to go out to the apartments and marinas with Chambers’s photograph. We’ll also stop by Dr. Wu’s.”

Kins’s conversation with the Portland detective was considerably shorter. When he hung up, he swore. “Is nothing in this case simple?”

“What happened?” Tracy asked, disconnecting her call with Faz.

“They got a shooting over at one of the college campuses. My guy’s out the rest of the day.”

“Can someone else handle the warrant?”

Kins shook his head. “You know how it is. The earliest he can do it is tomorrow morning.”

The strain of long days and interrupted sleep had caught up to Tracy. Her clothing was wet and uncomfortable and she felt frustrated. “Well, no sense driving back to Seattle just to turn around and come back down,” she said. “I guess we’re going to have to get a hotel.”

“I just love wearing day-old underwear,” Kins said.

They ate lunch and checked into adjacent rooms in a Marriott Courtyard at the end of the waterfront. Tracy made some phone calls and answered e-mails while watching the storm out her hotel window, the sky now a roiling sea of angry dark clouds and the rain coming in sheets. She checked in with Dan and told him she would not be home, then called into the office. Faz and Del had returned to Police Headquarters after canvassing the marinas and the apartments with a photograph of Devin Chambers.