What She Found (Tracy Crosswhite #9)(90)

Childs took a deep breath. More tears flowed.

“Melissa?”

“I thought I had killed him,” she said.

Tracy’s breath caught in her chest. “You remember?”

“Like the child in my dreams.”

“Tell me what you recall.”

“I awoke on the ground. I didn’t know who I was or where I was.

I didn’t remember anything or anyone. I remember a black car. The passenger door was open. I remember looking inside and seeing a man slumped over, dead, and a gun on the floor. And blood. So much blood. I remember blood on my hands, his blood, I thought. I thought I had killed him. I saw another car. I had keys, but I couldn’t remember if it was my car. I panicked. I got in the car and I left, but I didn’t know where to go. I drove to a parking garage, and I have a vague recollection of a bathroom, of cleaning blood off my hands and the back of my head. My next recollection is being in a mall.”

She looked to Tracy. “I’ve waited every day for someone to come for me. To arrest me for killing that man. I thought you were that person.”

“Why then did you agree to meet with me?”

“I was told you might know who I was, and I was tired of not knowing. I was tired of being afraid. I wanted to know who I was. I wanted to know the little girl in my dreams, and I wanted to know the woman who woke up to that horror. I wanted to know if I killed him. It was time I found out.” Childs closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. When she opened her eyes she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

Tracy worked to keep her emotions in check. Perhaps Childs recalled even more. She fought against getting too optimistic. “Do you remember anything else about that night?” Tracy asked, keeping her voice soft. “Do you remember seeing anyone else?”

“I didn’t. Not at first. But later on, I had these images. As I said, it was like the images of Anita as a little girl.”

“Images of what?”

“I recall a man. He wore a mask. He was tearing at it, groaning in agony. I remember him ripping it off.”

Again, Tracy’s heart skipped. “Do you remember his face?”

“He had short hair. I recall that. Pointed ears.”

“Like a Doberman?” Del said.

“Like a Doberman,” Childs said. “Yes.”

“What about his build? Stocky. Muscular,” Del said.

“I don’t recall,” Childs said.

“Could you pick him out of a lineup?” Tracy asked the ultimate question.

“I would be guessing,” Childs said.

Tracy felt herself deflate.

“I’ve tried, over the years, to remember more, but I can’t see the details of his face,” Childs said. “And I wouldn’t want to guess and be wrong.”

Anita Childress leaned forward, speaking to Tracy. “You believe the harbormaster was killed because he knew about the raid on this ship, the Egregious, and was about to tell my mother, who could possibly expose this task force. But you don’t know who killed him.”

Tracy looked to Del. “I think we both know who killed him,” she said.

“Rick Tombs,” Del said.

To Melissa Childs, Tracy explained all the problems with the evidence, how much of it couldn’t be substantiated and other pieces that wouldn’t be admissible under the court rules. “I’ve spoken with an experienced attorney, and he doesn’t think I have enough to prosecute anyone. Beyond all that, I think, based on what you just told us, that the person who killed David Slocum died in Arizona from cancer some years ago.”

“Is there anyone alive who can testify about what this David Slocum knew . . . that it was the likely reason he was killed?” Anita asked.

“I can,” Del said. “I spoke to him.”

“What about the captain in prison in Surrey, British Columbia?”

Jorgensen asked. “And the owner of the houseboat who found the bodies?”

“The houseboat owner died of AIDS a few years after the raid.

Jack Flynt is a drug runner with multiple arrests who already made a deal once. Even if I could convince him to testify on the record, which he said he would not do, they’ll say he’s not credible, that he’s lying to make another deal, and Del”—Tracy looked at her former partner on the A Team—“they’ll question why he didn’t come forward sooner and say he isn’t credible either, and even if he is, it doesn’t prove who killed Slocum, assuming he didn’t commit suicide.”

“In other words, it won’t stand up in a court of law,” Jorgensen said.

Tracy shook her head. “That’s what the prosecutor told me.”

“But it will in the court of public opinion,” Jorgensen said, doing a poor job of hiding an emerging grin.

“A through line,” Tracy said to Del. “You tell a story fairly and accurately and let everyone who reads or hears it decide for themselves. One other thing,” she said to Melissa. “Getting the story out in the newspaper would also give you some insulation, in case there’s anyone still out there who seeks to harm you for what you might know. We tell not only what happened, but we also tell about your amnesia.”

“If I didn’t know better, Detective, I’d say you’re using the newspaper,” Jorgensen said.