In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(35)

“Bibby tell you about my brothers?”

“No. Another neighbor.”

“I sure didn’t see her. Let’s see. Carrol would have also been at work Wednesday that time of day.” He shrugged. “What does this girl look like? You got a picture of her?”

Kins pulled up the photograph on his department cell phone and held it out to Sprague.

“Hang on a second.” Sprague stepped back inside, partially shutting the door.

Tracy looked to Kins, mouthed “Norman Bates,” and mimed striking him repeatedly with a knife. The door pulled open and Sprague stepped forward, slipping on a pair of half-lens reading glasses.

“I don’t see so well without my glasses,” he said. “Let me have a look.”

He took the phone from Kins and looked down his nose at the picture. “Nice-looking young lady, but no, I haven’t seen her.” He handed back the phone.

“Where do you work?” Tracy asked.

“I work at a retirement home in Seattle.”

“What do you do there?” she asked.

“I’m a brain surgeon,” Sprague said, straight-faced. Then he smiled. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Detective. I’m an environmental services engineer, which is a fancy term for a janitor. I clean the floors and the bathrooms, strip the beds when the people wet ’em or pass on, those kinds of things. It ain’t glamorous but it’s a job. Been there for years. I can give you the name of my supervisor if you like.”

Kins smiled with him. “You said your other brother was also at work Wednesday afternoon?”

“Carrol works at the Home Depot in Shoreline. I’m not sure what his schedule was this week, but he wasn’t yet home when I got home Wednesday. I know because I was looking for a little help with the groceries. He likely was still at work, but I can’t say for certain. He hits a pub up that way some days when he gets off.”

“And your other brother?” Tracy asked.

“Evan? Evan would have been home. He don’t work. He’s not capable.”

“Is either brother home now? We’d like to speak to them.”

“Carrol’s out. Again, I assume he’s either working a later shift or getting a beer and some dinner. Evan is home, but he’s sick. Came down with a bad flu and has a high fever and has been throwing up most of the evening. He’s asleep in his room at the moment. I’m hoping I don’t get it.”

Tracy and Kins handed Sprague business cards. “Could you have your brothers call us?”

“I could, but I got to warn you, the chances of Evan remembering anything aren’t real good. He don’t have much recall. Not anything long-term. Maybe it would be best if you came back when I’m home, just in case he don’t understand something you’re asking him.”

“When would be a good time?” Kins asked.

“Just about any night, except when he’s sick. Just curious, Detectives, but is this the girl whose picture they showed on the news?”

“Yes,” Kins said.

“That’s where I saw her then. That’s a shame, a girl that young. I sure hope you find her, and no harm has come to her.”

Tracy and Kins thanked him and stepped down from the porch. Behind them the door closed, and the porch light went dark.

“Man, my skin was crawling,” Kins said when they reached the car.

“Yes, but we’ve established that you’re not exactly a heroic figure,” Tracy said, moving to the passenger side.

“Are you telling me your skin wasn’t crawling?” Kins said across the car’s roof. “The whole thing is kind of creepy—three brothers living together in what was their parents’ house.”

“You have three sons. What if they lived together?”

“I’d call hazmat to clean the place before I went to visit them. And I do have hope they’ll get married someday and move out, but live together? That’s just weird.”

Tracy slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. “They’re lucky they have the house, given the real estate prices in Seattle. And it’s like the neighbor said.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t think twice about it if it was three sisters.”

Kins pulled from the curb. “Three sisters living together would be spinsters, wouldn’t they?”

“If this was the 1850s.”

“What do they call three brothers living together?”

“Bachelors, I guess,” Tracy said.

“Horny, Randy, and Todd,” Kins said, laughing.

“You just make that up?” Tracy said, not wanting to humor him.

“I did.” He looked at the road, then back to her. “Come on. That was funny. You have to admit that was funny.”

“Todd?”

“That’s what makes it funny . . . The first two are obviously . . . oh, forget it. A guy would have gotten it and laughed.”

“No doubt,” Tracy said. “Let’s stop at the North Precinct and see what arrangements have been made to get patrol officers canvassing this neighborhood, and make sure they have Cole’s photograph and the car information. When we get back to the office, I’ll confirm a CSI team and cadaver dogs are set up for the morning.”