In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(82)

“Aileen saw your car outside her home. I saw you in the parking lot across the street. We’ve had a lot of years to get pretty good at watching people.”

Tracy filed that comment away. “Why didn’t you just call my number on the card?”

“My husband owns the tire store. It’s his family’s business. I didn’t want you to come into the store and use that name.”

“He doesn’t know about your past.”

“No. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. I figured you’d follow me wherever I went.” She set her sandwich, which she didn’t open, on the table beside her. “How did you know I was still alive? I did everything possible to erase anything related to Lindsay Sheppard.”

“You couldn’t erase your sister.”

Lindsay looked confused. “Aileen said she told you that she hadn’t seen me in decades.”

“She did,” Tracy said. “But I saw a picture in her home, a five by eight.”

“Yeah,” Lindsay said. “I know the one.”

“I took a chance it was you, and that if you were still alive, she’d know where to find you.”

Sheppard’s shoulders slumped. “Why?”

“She’s your older sister.”

Lindsay’s eyes narrowed. “She said you had a sister. She said you showed her a picture and said your sister had been murdered.”

“She was,” Tracy said. “And that was the one time I failed to look out for her. I’ve lived with that regret my entire adult life. Always will.”

Lindsay sipped her soft drink through the straw, then set the cup down. “Aileen said you’re looking for a girl, that you thought the Sprague brothers had something to do with her disappearance.”

“I’m hoping to find her still alive.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Tracy told Lindsay Sheppard what she knew. “Based on what my partner called to tell me earlier, I think Evan grabbed her. I think Carrol got rid of her car and drove it to Ravenna Park to misdirect our investigation. Maybe also her body. I’m hoping that isn’t the case.”

“You said that you think Evan grabbed this girl?” There was something in the young woman’s tone and facial expression that indicated she was having a hard time believing that to be true.

“We’ve confirmed that both Franklin and Carrol were at work,” Tracy said again. “And the DNA on the cigarette butt is conclusive, as is the video showing that Evan went for a walk about the time the young woman disappeared.”

“Franklin would be the one to run things in that house after Ed died. He’s the oldest, the biggest, and he’s mean, like his father.” Sheppard took a breath. “Carrol was always fat and lacked self-confidence. He had a stuttering problem, especially if he got nervous. Franklin protected him, but he also beat on him physically and verbally. He beat on Evan too. He used to call him an ‘idiot’ and a ‘retard.’ But Evan . . .” She shook her head. “He was a sweetheart when I lived there, Detective. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He was my lifeline. We played cards and board games together. It was the only thing that kept me from losing my mind.”

“Could Evan have acted on Franklin’s orders?”

“I suppose. He’s afraid of Franklin . . . and he is slow. I mean he went to special ed. It was something about a lack of oxygen when he was born. But he isn’t stupid,” she rushed to add. “They just always treated him that way. They never took the time to get to know him and, after a while, he sort of just believed it.”

“What happened, Lindsay? Why did you go to so much effort not to be found?”

“I don’t know that name anymore, Detective. It’s been years since I heard it. I’d prefer you not use it.”

“What name do you use?”

“Jessica. Jessica Whitley. Whitley is my married name.”

“Tell me what happened, Jessica.”

“I don’t like to talk about it. I put the past behind me. I didn’t really have a choice. I’ll tell you though, for that girl. If you think she could still be alive.”

Tracy nodded. “I do.”

“Why do you think they took me in?” The question sounded like a challenge.

“I thought maybe the mother, Carol Lynn, wanted a daughter after the three boys, but didn’t want to try because of Evan’s condition.”

Lindsay smiled, but it had a sad quality to it. “Carol Lynn didn’t have a say in anything in that house, or a desire to have a daughter. I think she knew what would happen if she had a daughter.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She dabbed at them with balled-up napkins. “She knew what went on in that basement.”

Tracy felt sick to her stomach, anticipating what was to come. “How bad was it?” Tracy asked.

“As bad as you can imagine,” Lindsay said. “Times ten.”





CHAPTER 35

Kins stood when Judge Ken Schwartz entered his courtroom in a dress shirt and tie, but no robe. Schwartz was midfifties, having ascended to the bench after serving in the prosecutor’s office for some twenty-five years. He looked like each year had taken a toll. He was heavy, carrying most of his weight in his lower half, and bald, with wisps of hair that a comb could not tame. Kins had never sat in a trial with Schwartz, but Faz described the judge as pedantic about properly admitting evidence, and a real stickler for the minutiae. His direct and cross-examinations reflected his neurosis, often taking hours.