Dan nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. “Then we’ll just keep trying and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll talk about that decision.” He smiled and stepped toward her. She’d started to cry. “Hey. It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not all right,” she said, wiping her eyes, feeling overwhelmed. “This was not the life I was supposed to have, Dan. This was not the way things were supposed to turn out. I was going to have three kids. I was going to be a mother, go to PTA meetings and soccer games, help them with their homework, and sit down at the table and have family dinners.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “What happened to my life? What the hell happened to my life?”
They stood, silent for a long moment, and Tracy realized she’d hurt him. “Dan, I didn’t—”
Dan shrugged. “I was hoping you’d say your life turned out pretty well.”
She felt nauseated, and it had nothing to do with Clomid’s side effects. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He stepped back, away from her. “You don’t think I felt the same way after my divorce? That I didn’t wonder what had happened to my life? I had a wife, a good job at a good firm doing what I love. I drove a BMW and had season tickets to the Red Sox . . . and a boat. Then, in an instant, it was all gone. My ex-partner got my wife and the tickets and the boat, and I was back in Cedar Grove. You don’t think I wondered where it all went wrong?”
She stepped to him. “You didn’t do anything to cause it, Dan.”
“Maybe I did.”
“She cheated on you.”
“Yes, but maybe because I wasn’t around enough.”
“Sometimes I wonder about that too,” she said.
“What?”
“If I had just driven Sarah home.”
He shook his head. “Sarah was killed by a psychopath, Tracy. He stalked her and he stalked you. And as terrible as it was, I’d like to think that maybe God spared you . . . for me.”
She started to cry again. Dan always managed to say the right thing. Even when they’d been young, growing up friends in Cedar Grove, Dan found a way to say what Tracy needed to hear. It was a quality Tracy didn’t possess—an ability to put things in perspective, to find something—if not positive then at least optimistic. After a long beat she said, “You’re really hard to fight with, you know that?”
CHAPTER 14
There was no mistaking that Leah Battles was a JAG attorney Friday afternoon when Tracy followed Kins into the cramped district courtroom on the first floor of the King County Jail. Battles sat in the first bench, resplendent in a dress blue uniform with two gold stripes on the cuffs, and a patchwork of colored squares above her left breast pocket. She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the back of her head. On her lap she held a white hat with a blue bill, gold trim, and an eagle on the crown. Beside Battles sat another naval officer, an older man also dressed in blue.
“Looks like somebody came to play,” Kins said. “I guess the Navy is taking jurisdiction?”
Tracy nodded, disappointed. “Looks that way.”
“How do you think the family is going to take it?”
“I don’t know. They were already guarded about the process, and I don’t think this will help.”
Trejo would not be formally charged this afternoon. The sole purpose of a first appearance was for the judge to determine if there existed probable cause to believe the defendant committed a crime. If so, Trejo would be held for an arraignment and a determination of bail, likely in two weeks. The delay was to give Tracy and Kins time to gather the evidence upon which the prosecutor’s office would base any charges. The presence of the naval officers, in dress uniforms, gave Tracy serious doubt that would be necessary. The Navy looked ready to take jurisdiction.
Despite the relatively innocuous purpose of the first appearance, the two benches were full and more people stood in the back, almost all African American—relatives and friends of the Miller family. Tracy was pleased to see Shaniqua Miller among them. She stood beside her mother and a representative from the Victim Assistance Unit. They were listening to Rick Cerrabone. Shaniqua and her mother looked spent. They had a right to be.
Cerrabone made eye contact with Tracy and Kins, excused himself from the conversation, and nodded for the three of them to step outside. They found a cramped space in which to talk.
“Looks like they’re going to pull this one,” Tracy said.
“Dunleavy spoke with the Navy’s senior trial counsel this morning,” Cerrabone said, referencing King County prosecuting attorney Kevin Dunleavy.
“Is that him sitting in the courtroom beside Battles?”
“Who’s Battles?” Cerrabone asked.
“The woman,” Tracy said. “She came to Police Headquarters last night to talk to Trejo.”
“Then I’m assuming the man next to her is senior trial counsel.”
“Did he say they were going to pull jurisdiction?” Tracy asked.
“I haven’t talked to him, but it sure seems likely, doesn’t it?” Cerrabone tugged at the knot on his tie. “Dunleavy said the Navy is sending two investigators from NCIS to speak to you and review the evidence before they make a decision.”
Tracy shook her head. “I had a case with them a few years back and I wasn’t impressed then.”
“Not a lot we can do about that,” Cerrabone said. He checked his watch, which this afternoon was accompanied on his wrist by a black Fitbit. “Listen, if the Navy pulls jurisdiction, Dunleavy is going to want us to stay involved. The family is on edge, and given the recent climate, Dunleavy wants to be sure we continue to look invested.”
“Clarridge expressed the same,” Tracy said, “but how do you do that if they pull jurisdiction?”
“I charge Trejo with a hit and run and with running a red light. Even if the Navy takes jurisdiction, running the red light stays in play. So does your office.”
“You’re serious?” Kins said. “For running a red light?”
Cerrabone shrugged. “Running the red light is a civilian crime. So, if the Navy takes jurisdiction and we don’t like the result, we maintain the right to try Trejo in superior court.”
“Nolasco is not going to want to use his resources for running the red light. Not with the number of murders we’ve had already this year,” Kins said. “Besides, what about double jeopardy?”
“It doesn’t apply here,” Cerrabone said. “But it’s rarely an issue because the Navy isn’t limited by the same sentencing guidelines we are. They can put Trejo away for a longer period than we can, if it comes to that. That’s what I was just telling the mother and grandmother.”
“How are they taking it?” Tracy asked.
Cerrabone shrugged. “I don’t know. At the moment they’re just holding on.”
“Can’t blame them,” Tracy said.
“And I think they’re distrustful of the system.”
“I got that sense also when I went out to the house to tell them we’d made an arrest,” Tracy said. “I don’t think the Navy taking jurisdiction is going to help.”
“It won’t. I suspect they’ll believe the Navy is taking the case in-house to protect one of its own. Dunleavy expressed the same concern and was told that if they pull jurisdiction, they’ll quickly bring an Article 32 hearing to allay those concerns.”