In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(71)

She smiled. Telling Melton how to do his job was like telling Bill Gates about personal computers.

“I’ll press the guys in the lab, again, and tell them you promised them all Rolexes for Christmas.”

Tracy laughed. “They might have to settle for Casios.”

On her way out, Tracy called Kins. She would have called him the night before, but Tuesday was Kins and Shannah’s date night, and she decided not to interrupt. She told Kins what she had done and what she had obtained from the bar.

“He didn’t have a clue who I was,” she said, referring to Carrol Sprague. “Mike’s asking the lab to expedite the DNA analysis and compare it to the DNA on the cigarette butts CSI found in the ravine.”

“Familial DNA,” Kins said.

“If we’re right, it would place Evan in the park, likely behind the tree stump. That should be more than enough evidence to get a search warrant. I’ll call you when I hear from Mike. Oh, and the lab is running the DNA under the investigations for Angel Jackson and Donna Jones.”

“Who?”

“The two prostitutes who went missing on Aurora Avenue.”

Kins didn’t answer immediately, an indication he understood the reason for her using the cold cases to get DNA evidence for the Stephanie Cole matter. Then he said, “Are you on your way in?”

“I got another lead I’m pursuing.”

“Also in the two cold cases?” Kins asked, his tone intimating he suspected the lead also related to the Stephanie Cole matter.

“I’ll keep you in the loop.”



Tracy drove to the North Park neighborhood. With school in session, cars filled the parking spaces along the street. Children ran around the school playground making noise. She parked around the corner and walked to Brian Bibby’s home. She didn’t want any of the Spragues to see her car or see her talking with Bibby again.

Bibby answered on the third knock. Tracy felt warm air blasting from the fireplace insert. Classical music played on a stereo. “Detective? I didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” Bibby said. “Where’s your partner?”

“Pursuing a different lead in another case. I actually came to speak to your wife for a minute. Is she home?”

“Lorraine? Sure, she’s home. Come on in.”

Tracy stepped inside and Bibby closed the door behind her. “You find out anything more on that missing girl?”

“Still working the investigation. I did have a question for you also.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you smoke?”

Bibby looked to the hall as if about to be busted by a parent. He kept his voice low. “One cigarette a day when Jackpot and I go on our walk. Don’t tell Lorraine, though I suspect she knows, but I don’t want to rub her nose in it. It’s my one nasty habit.”

“What brand?”

“Marlboro. Why?”

“We found some butts in the ravine, and I may need to eliminate yours.” Tracy reached into her purse for a DNA swab kit.

“That’s easy. I don’t throw my butts in the ravine. People have worked too hard to clean it up. I smoke my cigarette on the way up the trail and put it in that trash can outside. Lorraine?” Bibby called, starting down the hall as he shouted.

“Hang on a second,” Tracy said. “I’m also wondering if you happened to know Ed Sprague?”

“The father? Sure. I knew Ed. Not well, but in passing. Neighbors. He’s dead though.”

“I understand. I also understand that he worked as a machinist at Boeing.”

“That’s true,” Bibby said. “Do you mind if we sit? I overdid it a bit yesterday and my back is sore.”

Lorraine Bibby came down the hall. “What is it?” she said to Bibby. She hesitated when she noticed Tracy.

“The detective here wants to ask you some questions,” Bibby said.

“Me?” Lorraine sounded surprised.

Bibby took his place in his chair. Tracy sat on the couch, closest to the fireplace. Lorraine sat on the other end.

“I was asking if your husband and Ed Sprague knew one another from work.”

“We didn’t,” Bibby said. “There are a lot of machinists at Boeing, Detective. I believe it’s somewhere between fifteen and twenty thousand, but don’t quote me on that number.”

“I knew there were a lot,” Tracy said. “I assume then that you didn’t commute together or anything.”

“Also, a lot of different work schedules,” Bibby said, shaking his head. “No. We didn’t commute. I knew Ed, and ran into him a couple times at work, but we weren’t close.”

“What type of a man was he?” Tracy asked. “What you knew of him.”

“Quiet,” Bibby said, looking to his wife. “Ed kept to himself. Didn’t share a lot. Not every neighbor wants to be close. Lorraine may have a different opinion, however.” Bibby’s tone wasn’t condescending, but it had a bite to it.

Lorraine frowned at her husband before engaging Tracy. “I don’t want to speak poorly of the dead,” she said. “And Carol Lynn was a lovely lady. Meek, but lovely.”

“Something about Ed Sprague rub you the wrong way?” Tracy asked.

Lorraine looked like she was grinding glass with her teeth and shooting spears at her husband from her eyes. “This was more than thirty years ago. Things were different then,” she said, dismissive. Tracy waited while Lorraine ground up more glass.