In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(88)

“Tell me what happened, and I will do my best to help you, to get the prosecutor to make you a deal. But if you keep lying, then there’s nothing I can do. You’ll be on your own.”

Carrol looked like he wanted to say something, but as he stuttered, he swallowed whatever those words had been. “I . . . I . . . I . . . was fishing.”

“Detective?” Kaylee Wright stood in the hallway. “You got a second?”

Kins looked to Carrol. “I’m going to talk to the detective for a minute, Carrol. While I’m gone, I want you to think about what I said. I want you to think about allowing me to help you. When I come back, I’m going to expect an answer. And I’m not going to give you a third chance.”

Kins met Wright on the front porch. The circus had come to town, and that had brought out the neighbors. They stood in winter clothing; the temperature had dropped into the thirties. Having had police officers and detectives knock on their doors, the neighbors knew the police were searching for a missing young woman. Watching the police descend upon a neighbor’s house—detectives wearing gloves and booties, a CSI van parked in the street, and detectives with dogs—made it all too real.

“We haven’t found the shoes,” Wright said. “Not the ones worn in the park, but . . .” She had a wry smile on her face. “The size of other shoes in Evan’s room match the size of the impression of the shoe I found behind the log and in the ravine, and the wear indicates he distinctly pronates.”

Kins nodded. It was something, but he could hear a skilled defense attorney asking him what percentage of the population pronates when they walk. “I’d rather have the shoe.”

“We’ll keep looking.”

Pinkney joined them on the porch. “We found cigarettes,” Pinkney said. “A lot of them. All over the house. Including the bedrooms.”

“Do any match the brand we found behind the stump?”

“No doubt. Marlboro.”

Kins looked to Kaylee. The DNA from the cigarette butt would place Evan at the site where Cole disappeared. His shoes, with a distinct wear pattern, would make it highly probable he’d been hiding, lying in wait.

“What else?”

Pinkney made a face like he smelled something awful. “A whole cache of pornography going back decades. Prurient shit. It runs the gambit from soft porn to some really nasty . . . bondage, sadism. There are unlabeled videos, boxes of them. I have a feeling they contain some nightmares. There are also multiple computers. We’re going to need to have the drives analyzed. It could take weeks.”

“Then let’s get started. I can modify the search warrant as we go.”

Kins’s cell phone rang. Caller ID indicated Tracy. He stepped away to take the call. “Tracy? We’re at the house now. Carrol is here, but Franklin and Evan aren’t, and Franklin isn’t at work. It’s his day off.”

“Kins—”

“Carrol says Franklin took Evan hunting in Eastern Washington but claims he doesn’t know where.”

“Kins.” Tracy raised her voice and said his name in a tone he recognized. It meant she had something to say and needed to say it quickly.

“Go ahead.”

“Did you bring the dogs?”

“They’re outside, going over the yard.”

“Bring them inside. Take them into the basement.”

“There is no—”

“Go into the kitchen.”

“Where are you? Sounds like you’re driving.”

“I’m on I-90, just outside Cle Elum.”

“Why?”

“I found the sister.”

“Where?”

“I’ll tell you more later. There’s a second property, a cabin near Cle Elum. I’m going there now. But right now, I need you to go into the kitchen and check out something Lindsay told me.”

“Hang on.” Kins walked inside, the phone pressed to his ear. The rooms and hallways were teeming with CSI detectives. White bags contained confiscated evidence. He stepped around the bags, his blue booties making a swishing sound on the worn hardwood floor. He stepped into the kitchen. “Okay. I’m in the kitchen.”

“Go to the pantry to the right of the back door.”

Kins did so. “What am I looking for?”

“A hidden door at the back of the pantry. You should find a deadbolt in the upper right corner and another at the bottom.”

Kins turned on his phone light since there was minimal ambient light and put Tracy on speaker. “Yeah. I see them,” he said. His stomach flipped in anticipation of what was to come next.

“Unbolt them and pull the door open. There should be a string for a light. You’ll find stairs.”

“Where do the stairs go?”

“It’s a house of horrors, Kins. I’m not sure what you’re going to find. Send in the cadaver dogs.”

Kins snapped the bolts and pulled the door open. The bottom scraped the cheap brick linoleum, leaving a white streak. He had to move cans of food and bags of rice to pull the door open the last few feet. He reached inside and felt the string hit the back of his hand, gripped it, and pulled. A bulb screwed into a socket attached to a floor joist illuminated a wooden staircase.

“You think Cole is down here?” Kins asked, feeling nerves tingling all over his body.