In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(20)

“We had a zoo pass when the boys were young,” Kins said. “I think it kept Shannah sane.” They did not see video cameras in the parking lot and decided to walk a portion of a running trail that zigzagged through the well-kept grass. The deciduous trees displayed full autumn colors, though some had begun to shed their leaves, littering the dirt path. “My boys ran cross-country meets here,” Kins said. “The trail is well defined and popular among joggers and walkers. I don’t think anyone would be bold enough to snatch a runner here.”

With time to kill before Barnes went home to his apartment, they drove to the trucking company in Fremont and spoke to the company’s employee manager. The woman confirmed Cole worked as a receptionist Monday through Friday from 7:50 in the morning until 3:50 in the afternoon. She confirmed Cole worked Wednesday as scheduled, but didn’t show up Thursday or today. They asked the woman about a party Wednesday night. She had no personal knowledge, but she did know of a party and called in a woman who worked in dispatch.

Ame Diaz said she’d invited Cole to the party, but that Cole did not attend. Diaz was in her midtwenties, short, and heavyset. Though her last name sounded Hispanic, the woman looked like she could be Filipina. She said she coordinated the drivers’ routes and fielded calls from customers expecting shipments.

“Did Stephanie tell you she was going running before the party?”

“I don’t recall her saying she was going for a run. She might have, but I just don’t recall it. It sounded like she ran every day.”

“Did other people here at work know she was a runner?”

Diaz shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“Do you know anyone who would have known Stephanie was going for a run Wednesday afternoon?”

Diaz shook her head. “No one I can think of.”

“Was Stephanie close to anyone here at work? Did she have someone she hung out with?”

“I can’t really say.”

The manager added, “Stephanie just started working here a couple of weeks ago. Most of our employees are older and married.”

“She ate in the lunchroom with the rest of us,” Diaz offered. “But I’m not sure there was anyone she was particularly close to. Everyone just sort of eats together.”

“Do you know if she was seeing anyone?”

“You mean dating someone? Here at work?” Diaz did not sound like that was likely.

“Did she ever mention anyone?”

“Not to me. She mentioned her roommate once, but it wasn’t anything in particular.”

“What did she say?”

“I think I just asked where she was living, and she said she had rented a room in an apartment with some guy. I think he was a student.”

“She didn’t express any romantic interest in him?”

“Not to me. I’m pretty sure she left LA and came up here alone. So I would say she wasn’t seeing anyone, but I don’t really know for certain.”

“She didn’t express any interest in anyone?”

Diaz smiled, but it was nerves. “Not to me.”

“Did anyone express any interest in her?”

“Again, not to me.”

Tracy looked to Kins, who shook his head to indicate he had no further questions. They thanked Diaz, and the manager excused her. “Did Stephanie have any interaction with the drivers or warehouse workers that you’re aware of?” Tracy asked the manager.

“She shouldn’t have,” the manager said. “She didn’t act as a dispatcher. She was a receptionist.”

“You didn’t see anyone hanging around reception talking to her?”

“That’s not really allowed here.”

“Allowed or not,” Tracy said.

“No,” the manager said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

Kins sat forward. “Do the warehouse workers or drivers wear a uniform?”

“They have a company shirt.”

“What does it look like?”

“It’s light gray with black pinstripes and has the company name and logo over the breast pocket.”

“What about uniform pants or shoes?”

Kins was thinking ahead, in case they found a witness who had seen Cole with someone or they found shoeprints.

“They’re supposed to wear black pants. They can wear whatever shoes they want.”

“Are there cameras in the parking lot?” Kins asked, knowing many trucking companies had cameras to deter theft.

“In the parking lot and the loading bays.”

“We’re going to need the video for Wednesday afternoon. Say, from three thirty to four thirty. Would you please send it to me?” He handed the woman a business card that included his work email address and cell phone. Kins and Tracy would review the video, then have it sent to the video unit at Park 90/5 on Airport Way. The building housed CSI, the Latent Print Unit, SWAT, and other SPD forensics units.

Tracy and Kins thanked the woman and left. Near five o’clock, they drove to the two-story apartment complex where Cole and Barnes lived. On the way there, Tracy called the number Barnes had provided for the apartment manager and set up a meeting in the parking lot. Tracy wanted to ask about video cameras.

The manager, a man, met them dressed in a long down coat, knit hat, and gloves.