The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(99)

“Did Zhu say whether anybody in the building saw or heard anything?”

Kins shook his head. “Nobody else was home yet.”

“What about the businesses on the first floor?”

“Separate entrance. According to Zhu, nobody heard a gunshot. It appears the killer used a pillow to muffle the sound.”

“That’s fairly sophisticated,” she said.

“Not for anyone who watches TV.”

“Any security cameras?”

“One in the garage, but not in the elevator or the building lobby. Footage from the camera in the garage shows Megan Chen driving in and exiting her car in the direction of the elevator. Half an hour later, Strickland arrives.”

“No other cars?”

“Nope.”

“The person had to know the code to get into the building and into the loft.”

“Exactly,” Kins said. “And Chen didn’t try to run or get away, a pretty good indication she knew the killer.”

Tracy sat back, pushing her tired mind to focus. “So then why was she on her stomach?”

“Maybe she was hiding under the covers, like you said.”

“On her stomach?”

“He could have positioned her that way.”

“No way. We would have been able to tell from the blood spatter.”

Kins shrugged. “Maybe she fell asleep waiting.”

“He says he called out when he walked in.”

“Which could be a lie,” Kins said. “He could have been trying to sneak up on her. She could have also been drinking before their anticipated romp. Toxicology will answer that.”

They sat in silence again, Kins staring up at the flat screen, which was tuned to ESPN. Tracy could tell because of the distinct music—which she only heard in her house when Dan visited. The waiter returned with their food.

Kins grabbed a knife and proceeded to cut his hamburger in half. “Not that I would ever deliberately quote Johnny Nolasco,” he said, “but maybe we shouldn’t complicate this. Sometimes these things are exactly as they seem.”

“That’s the problem,” Tracy said, stabbing at her salad. “This appears to be a simple murder in what, up to this point, has been anything but simple. It seems too easy, Kins, like someone wanted it to look like it is exactly as it appears.”





CHAPTER 30


For the next two weeks, the wheels of justice turned, but Tracy couldn’t shake the thought that the death of Megan Chen was just too simple, as would be convicting Graham Strickland for that crime. And as the murder of Chen proceeded, it appeared the murder of Devin Chambers and the disappearance of Andrea Strickland—and her money—would be pushed to the back burner.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Nolasco confirmed Tracy’s concern when he entered their bull pen on a Wednesday afternoon to advise that a decision had been made—“by people with a much higher pay grade than me”—to keep the Devin Chambers matter open but only to monitor as the Megan Chen proceedings moved forward. In other words, the King County DA was going to ride Portland’s coattails. With evidence mounting that Strickland killed Chen, the Oregon DA had charged Strickland with aggravated murder, meaning he could face the death penalty. In light of that possibility, Strickland might be persuaded to seek a deal, admit to killing Devin Chambers—and maybe even his wife—in exchange for life in prison, thus saving the King County taxpayers millions in costs for a full-blown murder trial. If Strickland didn’t admit to killing Chambers, then the same powers that be would reevaluate whether the anticipated cost justified a separate murder trial. You could only kill a person once—Andrea Strickland being the apparent exception.

Besides, Tracy suspected she already knew that answer. Without some evidence tying Graham Strickland to the private investigator searching for Chambers, evidence linking him to the missing money, or evidence proving that the gun used to kill Chen also killed Chambers, the DA would not opt to go forward.

The forensic examination of the PI’s computer was still not complete, and a forensic accounting had only confirmed what they already knew—someone had emptied Lynn Hoff’s bank accounts after Devin Chambers had been killed. From what they could determine thus far, the money had been wired out of the country, to a bank in Luxembourg, which fiercely guarded customer privacy. Not that it mattered. It was unlikely the money had stayed there long, or that the person had used a name they would know. Likely they’d used a corporate name and quickly rerouted the funds. Locating where it went would take a lot more time and expense, without any guarantee the result would provide the necessary evidence to convict.

“What about Andrea Strickland?” Tracy asked Nolasco.

Nolasco shrugged, and Tracy knew Andrea Strickland was already becoming an afterthought. “Unless the husband admits he killed her, or the glacier up there gives up her body, she remains a missing person. That’s Pierce County’s problem. Not ours.”

Left unsaid was that neither Andrea Strickland nor Devin Chambers had family who’d push for answers or make a stink that the investigations into their death and disappearance were not receiving the proper attention. In other words, there were no squeaky wheels demanding to be oiled.

“We know who killed them,” Nolasco said, as if to justify the decision, but which only sent shivers of irritation up Tracy’s spine. “We just might not get the chance to prove it. Sometimes that’s the way it is. You all know that. The most important thing is Strickland is going to jail for the rest of his life.”