What She Found (Tracy Crosswhite #9)(23)

“How’d it come up?”

“I don’t know for certain, but I found her notes in a file about two bodies floating in Lake Union. Moss and Del handled it. Del was lead. He seemed reticent to talk much about it.”

Faz sipped his drink. Tracy got the impression he was buying time. Stalling. “What is it, Faz? I can tell you’re holding back.”

“No. Not really. It’s just that a lot of smoke surrounded the Last Line. They had a lot of success. Too much, some people might say.”

“Someone was tipping them?”

“Maybe.”

“That might just be good police work.”

“Might have been,” Faz said, but he didn’t sound like he believed it.

“I found notes to indicate that maybe Lisa Childress had a source, like the Angel of Death case.”

“Like I said, Tracy. There were rumors. I didn’t know anything definitively.”

“Del never said anything about it?”

“You should talk to him.”

“He didn’t seem to want to talk.” When Faz didn’t respond, Tracy said, “Any idea why the Last Line was disbanded?”

“I think narcotics expanded and took over.”

“Nothing came of the rumors?”

“Why? Something else come up?”

“No. Just curious.”

Faz peered as if looking through her. “Listen, I know you’re doing your job, but you be careful what stones you turn over, Tracy.

You got a husband and a little girl now to take care of and watch over.”

“What’s that mean, Faz?”

He took a sip of his drink and set it down. “The Last Line . . . if they were doing those things . . . then they were also prepared to protect themselves from getting caught and going to jail. You know what I’m saying?”

“Is that based on anything specific, Faz?”

He popped a few more cashews. Then he said, “Just thirty years of studying human nature. The strongest biological urge may be to procreate, but it’s not far ahead of man’s innate compulsion to protect himself.”





C H A P T E R 9

Tracy left the High Bar thinking of all the embers burning around Moss Gunderson and wondering how they had not individually or collectively conflagrated. Moss had been the investigating detective on the Lisa Childress case, which was never resolved; a member of the Route 99 serial killer task force, never solved; and Del’s partner on the investigation into two drownings at the Diamond Marina, which seemed perfunctorily solved. Why? Why was Childress investigating drownings? The logical conclusion was the drownings had something to do with drugs and the Last Line.

But how, exactly?

Tracy arrived home to the pungent smell of garlic, onions, spicy Italian sausage, and tomatoes. Dan’s pasta sauce simmered on the stove top, and the recipe called for enough garlic to ward off at least three vampires. Daniella sat in her high chair, struggling to pick up an assortment of Cheerios and peas and guide them into her mouth.

Judging by the number she had discarded on the floor, two things were apparent. She was failing more than succeeding, and Rex and Sherlock were locked in the backyard. The pediatrician told Tracy that letting Daniella feed herself was good for developing her dexterity.

Daniella smiled and kicked her legs and arms when Tracy entered the kitchen. “Mama.” She held out her hands, peas squashed between her chubby fingers.

“How’s my little angel?” Tracy said.

“Your little angel was tossing food over the side of her chair to Rex and Sherlock,” Dan said. “And getting a big kick out of herself doing it.”

Tracy kissed Daniella’s cheeks, and her baby smiled and kicked harder. “Figured that was why the two hounds weren’t in here.”

“Rex and Sherlock acted like they hit the jackpot on the dollar slot machines in Vegas,” Dan said. “She laughed uproariously, as Therese likes to say.”

Tracy grabbed paper towels and ran them under the faucet, then cleaned up Daniella. “You’re home early,” she said.

“I didn’t really work today. Just a few hours in the home office.”

She threw the paper towels into the garbage, lifted Daniella from the chair, then kissed Dan. “Everything okay?”

“Still feeling numb from Ted Simmons’s suicide,” he said.

“You all right?”

Dan sighed. “I will be. Just . . .”

He shook his head. Tracy waited. Daniella pressed her hands to Tracy’s cheeks, and Tracy pretended to eat her fingers.

“I just wonder if I could have handled things differently,” Dan said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him to go forward. Maybe if I had spent more time listening to his concerns . . .” Dan shook his head. “I got wrapped up in beating that little shit at the city attorney’s office, and I can’t help but think I missed signs that might have saved Ted.”

Tracy knew regret was much harder to live with than failure.

Regret caused you to second-guess what you hadn’t done. “That’s an awful burden to put on your shoulders, Dan.”

“I know.”

“Take it from someone who spent years wondering if she could have saved her father. People who commit suicide, especially men, have their minds made up, and there’s little anyone can say or do to dissuade them.”