In Her Tracks (Tracy Crosswhite #8)(96)

“We cut them loose with the bolt cutter. They’re wrapped in thermal blankets and eating PowerBars. We’ll get them to the KVH Hospital in Ellensburg for treatment. I imagine they’re dehydrated, among other things.”

“Dehydration will be the least of their problems,” Tracy said. “Let’s get back. You can lead the evidence team out here.”

They walked back down the trail to the cabin. The three women stood inside the barn wrapped in the silver thermal blankets, looking uncertain and unsure what to do. Outside, Evan knelt in the snow, like a penitent over his brother’s body, which was covered by a blue tarp. Evan had his head down, his hands cuffed behind his back. Tracy checked on the three women, but they said little. They looked to be in shock. She reassured them they had ambulances and medical personnel coming, and that she would stop by the hospital later to ask them questions and take a statement.

“Can I call my parents and tell them I’m okay?” Stephanie Cole asked.

“Sure.” Tracy handed the young woman her cell phone.

Cole accepted the phone with thanks but didn’t dial right away. She looked to Evan. “Is he slow?” Cole asked.

Tracy nodded.

“Is he the one who carried me from the ravine and took me back to his house? His brother said he did. He beat him for doing it.”

“I imagine,” Tracy said.

“He never touched me though. He never did anything to me.”

“We’ll get all the details later,” Tracy said.

“What will happen to him?” Cole asked. She sounded genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know,” Tracy said.

“He just wanted to play games. He said his sister taught him.”

Tracy nodded. “Make your call. I’m sure your parents are beside themselves with worry.”

“I never should have left,” Cole said. “I just want to go home.”

Tracy thought Cole was lucky to say those words and to mean them. For so many, home wasn’t a place of comfort and love, far from it.

She walked to where Evan knelt. He might be slow, she thought, but he wasn’t stupid. That’s what Lindsay Sheppard had said. No one had ever taken the time to teach him.

She put a hand on his shoulder. Evan looked at her. Tears streaked his cheeks. “Are you all right, Evan?”

“Bibby shot him. Bibby killed him.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Franklin hated Bibby. Bibby was mean.”

“I know,” she said. “Did you see Bibby on the trail that day you found Stephanie?” Tracy pointed so that Evan knew who she was talking about. Evan put his head down. “It’s okay, Evan. You’re not going to get in trouble if you tell me.”

“I liked her. She reminded me of Lindsay.”

“Did you hide behind the log?”

“I just wanted to see her and ask if she wanted to play games.”

“Did you see what happened?”

“I don’t remember.”

“It’s okay,” Tracy said.

She wanted to tell him that Lindsay was still alive. She thought, in his moment of sorrow, he could use some good news. But it wasn’t her place. It wasn’t her place to assume Lindsay would want Evan to know she was still alive. She’d lived once in the house of horrors. She might not want a reminder of those days.

“You saved her life, Evan. You saved Stephanie’s life, twice.”

“Bibby was bad. Franklin said so.”

“Let’s get you a blanket before you freeze.”

Evan stood with Tracy’s help. “Franklin took care of me. Who will take care of me?”

Tracy didn’t say anything more, not wanting to lie to the man. He’d been mistreated and lied to most of his life.

She looked to the barn, to where Stephanie Cole, Donna Jones, and Angel Jackson stood watching. They were alive, she told herself. They were all still alive. That was something to take pride in, but at the moment she couldn’t take much joy in it. She knew there had been many before them who had not lived. Many they would find in the months to come.





CHAPTER 41

Late that night, Tracy met Kins in the Polar Bar on Third Avenue in downtown Seattle. Neither felt like going home. Tracy had called Dan and told him she’d be late. She gave him a brief accounting of what had happened but didn’t share details.

“Are you all right?” was all he asked.

“I’m looking forward to coming home,” she said. “But first I need to meet with Kins.”

The A Team occasionally met after work for a drink at a bar, a place to socialize, catch up on each other’s lives, and do just about anything but talk shop. A place to reset. The Arctic Club hotel harkened back to an early time in Seattle’s history. The hotel and bar had been a social club for men returning from the Yukon gold rush flush with money and stories to tell. They sat on plush leather seats amid fine Alaskan marble, and grand crystal chandeliers and velvet drapes.

The Polar Bar had developed from that same theme, featuring a mahogany bar atop blue glass that looked like glacial ice.

Kins had chosen the bar. Tracy understood why. Kins needed to be someplace completely unlike the Sprague home. He needed to be in a place of luxury and opulence, even for just a few hours. When Tracy entered the room, he sat on a stool at the end of the bar with his back to the wood-paneled walls.