What She Found (Tracy Crosswhite #9)(19)

“Where’s Vera?” Tracy asked.

“She’s . . . what do you call it? One of those chefs who does the easy things; you know, boils the ravioli and the noodles, and does all the preparation.” Faz dumped the remnants of his coffee into the sink. “Okay, I have now drunk a sufficient amount of coffee that all systems are go and I’m percolating.”

Tracy shook her head and called after him as he left the room.

“TMI, Faz.”

“It’s worse when he mentions these things just before lunch,”

Del said.

“You got a second?” Tracy asked Del.

“A second? With Faz in the can I have way more than a second.”

“I spent some time this morning with Moss Gunderson.”

“I’m sorry.” Del tilted his head left then right as if looking for something.

“What?” Tracy said. “Did I spill?”

“I was just checking to see if you still have both ears.”

Tracy laughed. “He is a talker.”

“Did he tell you how he got the name Moss?”

“A rolling stone gathers no moss.”

“Then he remains true to form.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “What were you meeting with him about?”

“A cold case. Lisa Childress.” Del blinked and his face went blank. He then looked to recover. It was subtle, but Tracy noticed it.

“Ring any bells?” she asked.

“No. Should it?”

“Reporter for the P-I went missing almost twenty-five years ago.

The only case Moss never resolved.”

“I remember something about a reporter going missing, but I wasn’t working with Moss then.”

“No. His partner was Keith Ellis.”

“May he rest in peace. What I remember is Moss kept telling everyone the husband killed her, but he couldn’t get any traction. I just don’t think he wanted an open file on his otherwise perfect record.”

“Pretty much sums it up.”

“Why are you looking at it? You get some new information?”

“No. Nothing like that. The daughter is grown now and a reporter for the Seattle Times. She asked me to take a look at her mother’s file.”

“Father still alive?”

“He is, and I brought up how she might feel if I determined it was her father.”

“What’d she say?”

“She just wants the truth. She’s tired of living in limbo.”

“But she doesn’t have anything new?”

“She pieced together some files that her mother was pursuing back then.”

“What kind of files?”

“Investigative stories she was looking into. Your name came up in one of the files.” Tracy had been thinking about how best to broach the topic. She didn’t want to just say, man, you did a crappy job.

“My name?” Del said, though he didn’t look or sound surprised.

“What file?”

“You and Moss responded to two bodies found floating in the water on Lake Union.”

“Vaguely rings a bell.”

“You were lead detective.”

“I think that was my first year on Homicide.”

Tracy thought Del’s lack of memory odd. She remembered her first homicide case in detail.

“It wasn’t called Violent Crimes back then. Just Homicide.

Mexicans, right? Illegals, if I’m recalling the case correctly?”

“You are,” she said.

“Moss gave me lead. I thought because he trusted me, but probably more because he was going through a nasty divorce at that time. What about it?”

“You and Moss ever determine how the two men ended up in the lake?”

“Geez, Tracy, that had to be almost twenty-five years ago. I’d have to look at the file, see what it says. Is it important?”

“I don’t know. But I pulled the file. It doesn’t really say anything except the two men were determined to be undocumented and likely fell from a boat.”

“Well, then I guess that’s all there was.”

“Lisa Childress was working on a story about a boat called ‘the Egregious.’”

“Yeah?”

“You know of it?”

“No.”

“She filed a Freedom of Information Act request but came up empty.”

Del made a sour face and shook his head.

“Do you remember who called in the two bodies?” Tracy asked.

“I don’t.”

“Or who you interviewed?”

“I’m sure witness interviews would be in the file and a lot more accurate than my memory.”

“Just wondering if you and Moss might have looked into whether the two bodies were somehow related to a boat smuggling drugs.”

“It’s a good theory, I suppose. What did Moss have to say?”

“I learned about Childress’s file after speaking to him.”

“You might want to ask him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. Just thought since you were here and the lead . . .”

“No problem.” Del started from the room.

“Did you ever hear about a narcotics team called ‘the Last Line’?”