In Her Tracks, page 1
PRAISE FOR ROBERT DUGONI’S TRACY CROSSWHITE SERIES
Praise for A Cold Trail
“Tracy Crosswhite is one of the best protagonists in the realm of crime fiction today, and there is nothing cold about A Cold Trail.”
—Associated Press
“Impressive . . . Dugoni weaves a compulsively readable tale of love, loss, and greed. Readers will look forward to the further exploits of his sharp-witted detective.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Crime writing of the absolute highest order, illustrating that Dugoni is every bit the equal of Lisa Gardner and Harlan Coben when it comes to psychological suspense. Call A Cold Trail an angst-riddled, contemplative tale, or just call it flat-out great.”
—Providence Journal
“Dugoni can truly do it all, and A Cold Trail is him at the height of his talents.”
—Bookreporter
Praise for A Steep Price
“A beautiful narrative. What makes A Steep Price stand out is the authentic feel of how it feels to work as a police officer in a major city . . . another outstanding novel from one of the best crime writers in the business.”
—Associated Press
“A riveting suspense novel . . . A gripping story.”
—Crimespree Magazine
“Compelling and politically relevant, a perfect addition to this beloved series . . . Without a doubt one of the best books in the series . . .”
—Bookreporter
“Packed with suspense, drama, and raw emotion . . . A fine entry in a solid series.”
—Booklist
“Fully developed characters and a fast-moving plot that builds to a shocker of an ending distinguish this crime novel.”
—Publishers Weekly
Praise for Close to Home
“An immensely—almost compulsively—readable tale . . . A crackerjack mystery.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“In bestseller Dugoni’s nail-biting fifth Tracy Crosswhite mystery . . . [he] embellishes this clever procedural with well-developed characters and an interesting exploration of Navy criminal justice.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Dugoni’s twisted tale is one of conspiracy and culpability . . . richly nuanced and entirely compelling.”
—Criminal Element
Praise for The Trapped Girl
“Dugoni presents his victim’s life in discrete pieces, each revealing a bit more about Andrea and her struggle to find happiness. Tracy’s quest to uncover the truth leads her into life-altering peril in this exceptional installment.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Dugoni drills so deep into the troubled relationships among his characters that each new revelation shows them in a disturbing new light . . . an unholy tangle of crimes makes this his best book to date.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Dugoni has a gift for creating compelling characters and mysteries that seem straightforward, but his stories, like an onion, have many hidden layers. He also is able to capture the spirit and atmosphere of the Pacific Northwest, making the environment come alive . . . another winner from Dugoni.”
—Associated Press
“All of Robert Dugoni’s talents are once again firmly on display in The Trapped Girl, a blisteringly effective crime thriller . . . structured along classical lines drawn years ago by the likes of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. A fiendishly clever tale that colors its pages with crisp shades of postmodern noir.”
—Providence Journal
“Robert Dugoni, yet again, delivers an excellent read . . . With many twists, turns, and jumps in the road traveled by the detective and her cohorts, this absolutely superb plot becomes more than just a little entertaining. The problem remains the same: Readers must now once again wait impatiently for the next book by Robert Dugoni to arrive.”
—Suspense Magazine
Praise for In the Clearing
“Tracy displays ingenuity and bravery as she strives to figure out who killed Kimi.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Dugoni’s third ‘Tracy Crosswhite’ novel (after Her Final Breath) continues his series’s standard of excellence with superb plotting and skillful balancing of the two story lines.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Dugoni has become one of the best crime novelists in the business, and his latest featuring Seattle homicide detective Tracy Crosswhite will only draw more accolades.”
—Romantic Times, Top Pick
“Robert Dugoni tops himself in the darkly brilliant and mesmerizing In the Clearing, an ironically apt title for a tale in which nothing at all is clear.”
—Providence Journal
Praise for Her Final Breath
“A stunningly suspenseful exercise in terror that hits every note at the perfect pitch.”
—Providence Journal
“Absorbing . . . Dugoni expertly ratchets up the suspense as Crosswhite becomes a target herself.”
—Seattle Times
“Dugoni does a masterful job with this entertaining novel, as he has done in all his prior works. If you are not already reading his books, you should be!”
—Bookreporter
“Takes the stock items and reinvents them with crafty plotting and high energy . . . The revelations come in a wild finale.”
—Booklist
“Another stellar story featuring homicide detective Tracy Crosswhite . . . Crosswhite is a sympathetic, well-drawn protagonist, and her next adventure can’t come fast enough.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
Praise for My Sister’s Grave
“One of the best books I’ll read this year.”
—Lisa Gardner, bestselling author of Touch & Go
“Dugoni does a superior job of positioning [the plot elements] for maximum impact, especially in a climactic scene set in an abandoned mine during a blizzard.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Yes, a conspiracy is revealed, but it’s an unexpected one, as moving as it is startling . . . The ending is violent, suspenseful, even touching. A nice surprise for thriller fans.”
—Booklist
“Combines the best of a police procedural with a legal thriller, and the end result is outstanding . . . Dugoni continues to deliver emotional and gut-wrenching, character-driven suspense stories that will resonate with any fan of the thriller genre.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“My Sister’s Grave is a chilling portrait shaded in neo-noir, as if someone had taken a knife to a Norman Rockwell painting by casting small-town America as the place where bad guys blend into the landscape, establishing Dugoni as a force to be reckoned with outside the courtroom as well as in.”
—Providence Journal
“What starts out as a sturdy police procedural morphs into a gripping legal thriller . . . Dugoni is a superb storyteller, and his courtroom drama shines . . . This ‘Grave’ is one to get lost in.”
—Boston Globe
ALSO BY ROBERT DUGONI
The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell
The 7th Canon
Damage Control
The Tracy Crosswhite Series
My Sister’s Grave
Her Final Breath
In the Clearing
The Trapped Girl
Close to Home
A Steep Price
A Cold Trail
The Academy (a short story)
Third Watch (a short story)
The Charles Jenkins Series
The Eighth Sister
The Last Agent
The David Sloane Series
The Jury Master
Wrongful Death
Bodily Harm
Murder One
The Conviction
Nonfiction with Joseph Hilldorfer
The Cyanide Canary
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2021 by La Mesa Fiction, LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542008372
ISBN-10: 1542008379
Cover design by Damon Freeman
To all of those who lost their lives or those they loved to COVID-19. May we remember each, so we are not doomed to repeat the past.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
October 30, Five Years Ago
Seattle, Washington
Seattle police officer Bobby Chin was late, and about to pay a heavy price.
Still in uniform, he hurried from his car and shuffled up the concrete steps of what once had been his home. The boyfriend had parked the Range Rover in what had been Chin’s driveway. Brand spanking new vehicle. Supercharged, as if to add insult to injury, except no way a personal trainer could afford a $90,000 automobile. No way. The guy had to be dealing on the side—steroids was Chin’s bet from the guy’s bloated physique—though he also wondered if his monthly alimony and child support helped to pay for that luxury. Jewel, his soon-to-be ex-wife, wasn’t about to ride in anything beneath her expensive tastes.
He reached for the lion’s-head knocker, but Jewel pulled open the door, waiting for him, no doubt to chew him out.
“You’re late.” Her posture matched the tone of her voice. Attitude. She stood with a hand cocked on her hip and an accusatory tilt of the head. She’d had her nails done. This time, a royal blue. Gold necklaces and bracelets peeked out from her white cashmere sweater that, despite the cool October weather, barely met the beltline of her white jeans. She dressed in white when Chin picked up Elle. The color contrasted with her painted nails and complexion. Chin once told her how much he liked her in white, that it made her look sexy.
He regretted it.
“I called. You didn’t answer, again,” Chin said. “And I left you a text message. You didn’t respond, again.”
“You’re always late.”
“As I said—”
“I don’t have time to be deciphering your messages,” she said. “I have a date . . . a life. You should try it.”
Chin bit his tongue. He knew what she was doing, and he wasn’t about to take the bait. Not this time. Not again. He couldn’t afford another domestic violence charge. His attorney said it would ruin his position in the parenting plan and likely land him in jail, meaning the loss of his job.
“Besides,” she said, “I was preoccupied.” She let the door swing open so Chin could see the puffed-up boyfriend—Spiffy Asshole, whatever his name. Chin didn’t remember and really didn’t care. Early twenties, the guy always looked like he’d just completed a set of bench presses. Veins popped in his forearms and neck. His pecs stretched the fabric of his too-small T-shirt. Steroid Boy for sure. Total meathead.
“Hey, Bobby.” The meathead grinned. His bleached white teeth matched Jewel’s outfit. “You come to arrest somebody?”
“Greg,” Chin said, taking a guess.
“Graham,” the meathead said, losing the grin.
Greg. Graham. Whatever.
Chin spoke to Jewel. “Elle ready?”
“She was ready half an hour ago, when you were supposed to pick her up. You know the court order is to be strictly adhered to. I’m keeping a record.”
“I know.”
“Hi, Daddy.” Elle appeared from behind the dragon statue at the foot of the stairs. It faced inward, to bring in wealth and prosperity.
Feng shui.
Feng bullshit. The only money flowing in was what Chin paid Jewel.
Chin dropped to a crouch. “Hey, Sunshine. What are you? No. Don’t tell me. You’re the most beautiful butterfly in the world.”
“Yay! You guessed it.” Elle spun so the colorful butterfly wings shook and shimmered. She wore a pink leotard and pink plastic shoes.
“You think you should change your shoes?” The corn maze he intended to take her to would likely be muddy from the recent rain.
“These are butterfly shoes.”
“Okay,” he said. Just get her and go, his lawyer had told him. “You ready to go?”
“The mortgage is due first of next week,” Jewel said. “And you have her Thanksgiving weekend. It’s in the court order. So get the time off.”
She made Elle sound like a burden. “Grab your jacket, Sunshine. Let’s get going.”
His daughter took her coat from the bannister, picked up her backpack, and started toward him. Graham stuck out his arm, blocking Elle’s path. Chin took a step forward, then caught himself, but Jewel and the boyfriend both noticed.
“Hold on a second, little princess,” Graham said, grinning.
“Butterfly,” Elle said.
“Give me and your mother a little sugar.”
Elle looked stricken. It was all Chin could do to keep from snapping the bloated limb. Elle quickly buzzed Graham’s cheek, then bolted out the door. Chin glared at the meathead before turning to leave.
“You sure that thing is going to start?” the meathead yelled from the doorway. “Why don’t you buy yourself a new car?”
Chin turned. “You know, Greg—”
“Graham.”
“I carry epinephrine in the car for emergencies. It might help to reduce the swelling you got going on.”
Graham looked perplexed, uncertain. Meathead.
Chin smiled.
“He only swells in the right places,” Jewel quickly responded. Then she closed the door.
Chin sucked in several deep breaths as he drove away from the toxic, suffocating environment Jewel created. Jewel wanted to provoke—anything and everything to get under his skin, to gain any tactical advantage in the parenting plan. To use Elle. Chin took some delight in knowing that soon Jewel would be the meathead’s problem, for a short while anyway. His ex would create another toxic environment, suffocate the meathead until she tired of him, then belittle and demean and eventually discard.
That’s who she was.
That’s what she did.
He shook the thought and looked at Elle’s reflection in his rearview mirror. This was his night with his daughter. “How are you doing, Angel?”
“Butterfly, Daddy. I told you.”
Elle’s pink plastic shoes hung over the car seat. She was growing—and becoming more intuitive. Her teacher at the Montessori school said Elle had been reacting negatively to the divorce. She suggested that Bobby and Jewel not argue in front of Elle.
Good luck with that.
“I’m sorry. I meant to say how’s my butterfly doing?”
“Can you take me trick-or-treating?”
“That’s Mommy’s night to be with you, Butterfly. But I get you Thanksgiving weekend.”
“But I want you to take me.”
“Mommy wouldn’t like that very much, I don’t think.”
“Mommy doesn’t like you, Daddy.”
“No?” He looked again in the rearview mirror. What the hell kind of a mother told her daughter that?
“She said Graham is going to be my new daddy, and if I was bad, he would leave, too, and then I wouldn’t have any more daddies.”
This was the type of manipulative bullshit he had lived with, what he would continue to live with, long after the divorce, what he couldn’t get his attorney or the judge or the guardian ad litem to understand. And if he accused Jewel, she would deny she said it and turn it against him. She’d say Chin had made up the story to gain leverage in the parenting plan, and what type of sick husband used his daughter that way?
And the guardian ad litem would agree.
This was his new reality.
“I’m not leaving, Butterfly. And I won’t let Mommy take you away.”
“When’s the surprise?” Elle said, as if the matter were closed.
Chin had told Elle when he called that he had a surprise. “Just a few more minutes.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Can you wait? We’re almost there.”
Chin spotted a line of cars, most exiting a parking area delineated by hay bales and pumpkins. A bright-orange tractor and scarecrows glowed beneath decorative strands of lights. “We’re here, honey. Isn’t it beautiful?”
A young man dressed as Darth Vader directed Chin into the parking lot, and Chin helped Elle from her car seat, taking a moment to reattach her wings.
“Don’t hurt my wings,” Elle said. “Daddy, don’t hurt my wings.”
