In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(72)

“What was different?” Tracy asked, coaxing her.

“The boys would come to school with bruises and scrapes,” Bibby said.

Tracy looked to Lorraine. “You think Ed Sprague beat them?”

“I don’t know,” Lorraine said, not happy with her husband. “And it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“Did you ask the boys? I mean when they were in school, did you ask them?”

“Various teachers asked them on various occasions. The boys all said the same thing every time. They had been wrestling or playing football in the yard. There was always some . . . We’d even separate the boys, but they all said the same thing.”

“Boys roughhouse,” Bibby said. “It’s part of being a boy. I had brothers, and we’d beat the hell out of each other growing up.”

“So, you don’t think Ed Sprague beat them?”

Bibby frowned. “Discipline was different back then. I can tell you my father hit me and my brothers, more than once. We usually deserved it, and we thought twice about doing whatever we did to get hit. But Lorraine’s right. Times are different now.”

“Did anyone ever report the incidents?” Tracy asked Lorraine.

“Not that I know of,” Lorraine said. “The law allows a parent to physically discipline their children, but . . . Well, this seemed excessive.”

Tracy changed gears. “What were the boys like in school?”

“Much like they are now. None were very good students. Franklin was the oldest and the biggest. He was a natural leader but also a bit of a bully. We had a few problems along the way. A few fights. Carrol had a stuttering problem and was overweight. If he got picked on, Franklin stepped in. Carrol mostly deferred to Franklin.”

“Did Evan go to the school as well?”

“He did, but well after his brothers, and he was in a special education program. He was a sweet boy, kind, but he also deferred to Franklin, and it seemed like Franklin was always around to protect him.”

“Were they afraid of Franklin?” Tracy asked.

“Some teachers got that impression.”

“Did you?”

“Not really—I mean, they wouldn’t all still live together if that was the case, would they? My impression is that Franklin takes care of them, particularly Evan.”

“And none of them ever married?”

“Never did. Always lived in that house, as far as I know anyway.”

“Did you know the girl who came to live with them from foster care?”

“Lindsay?” Lorraine sounded surprised. “She was there only a few years. Four or five, I believe.” She looked to Bibby.

“I didn’t really pay too close attention,” he said. “Hardly remember her.”

“She was much younger than Franklin and Carrol,” Lorraine said. “Younger even than Evan. I often wondered if that was why they brought her in. So Evan would have someone closer in age around the house.”

“Did you ever ask the Spragues why they decided to take her in?”

“I didn’t. I guess I always just assumed Carol Lynn wanted a daughter but ended up with three boys and, well, after Evan was born, she likely decided against having any more children.”

“What was Lindsay like?”

“I didn’t see her like I saw the boys. I think she came in the seventh grade. She was quiet. Moody. Sullen. We had a few incidents of her acting out as well.”

“Did she have the bruises?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Anybody ever determine what she was sullen about?”

Lorraine shook her head. “Those kids coming out of foster care . . . They can have a lot of problems. I always admired Ed and Carol Lynn for doing what they did, or at least trying.”

“Any idea if Lindsay ever married?”

“I don’t know,” Lorraine said. “What I recall was that as soon as Lindsay turned eighteen, she took off. I don’t think she even graduated high school. We never saw her again.”

“Never?” Tracy asked.

“Not once,” Lorraine said. Bibby nodded in agreement.

“Did you ever ask Carol Lynn about her?”

“Once,” Lorraine said. “Just in passing. You know, whatever happened to Lindsay?”

“What did she say?”

“I believe she said she moved out of state, didn’t she?” Lorraine asked her husband.

“That was my understanding,” Bibby said.

“Carol Lynn seemed sad about it, but she didn’t say much. She did say once that Lindsay came to them with a lot of problems that manifested in her teen years.”

“Those are the difficult years,” Bibby interjected.

Tracy asked a few more questions, then thanked the Bibbys and left the house.

She drove to Police Headquarters and sequestered herself in her office, going through the foster care file from Olympia. Lindsay’s foster care records ended with her placement in the Sprague home. There were a few reports documenting follow-up visits, but the contents of those were unremarkable.

After going through the foster care file, Tracy ran the names Lindsay Sheppard and Lindsay Sprague through state and federal databases for a driver’s license, a social security card, tax records, and marriage records. She combed through numerous potential hits, but ultimately decided, based on the date of birth or the geographic location, that none were the Lindsay Sheppard she sought. She searched death records, again without success.