Close to Home (Tracy Crosswhite #5)



Dan braced the front door to prevent it from shuddering and stepped inside, the dogs following. He’d taken the dogs on his fifty-minute run into the trails behind the house, roughly five miles, then spent ten minutes walking and stretching to cool down. He didn’t want the dogs to run into the house like two drunkards and wake Tracy. He’d closed the bedroom door before leaving, but in their small confines that was only so effective, and he knew she was exhausted. Detective work was a lot like legal work. You could leave the office, but you couldn’t escape the case. Dan thought about his cases and his clients when he went to bed and when he awoke. He thought of them in the shower, when he went for a run, and when he shopped in the grocery store. He knew Tracy did the same thing, looking for that piece of evidence she’d not seen or had overlooked. When they were home at night they had a rule—“no work,” unless the other needed a consult to get it off his or her mind.

He filled the dog bowls at the tap in the kitchen and set them on the floor. As Rex and Sherlock slurped, he filled a glass at the sink and grabbed vitamins from the cabinet, including glucosamine. He wasn’t getting any younger, and his knees reminded him of that fact each time he ran. Running on the dirt trails was a marked improvement over the concrete sidewalk along Alki Beach, but it didn’t eliminate all his aches and pains.

He brought the glass and vitamins into the main room and retrieved Tracy’s briefcase. Sitting at the table, he powered up her laptop, inserted the disc, and waited for it to boot up. He downed his vitamins with gulps of water and wiped sweat trickling along the sides of his face. He’d had experience with videotapes during his legal career, though usually he’d been on the other side, trying to keep a tape out of evidence. In civil cases, defense attorneys would hire private investigators to follow their injured clients, hoping to videotape the clients during a moment when they weren’t as incapacitated as they claimed. The rules of admissibility were rigid. The biggest hurdle for an attorney seeking to have a tape admitted into evidence was establishing a proper foundation—proving that the tape was a reliable depiction of what had actually occurred. That meant putting someone on the witness stand who could testify that the tape had not been edited or tampered with. And that’s where Dan usually focused his initial attack.

The video loaded. Dan looked down on the interior of an office space with a reception area and desk counter off to the right. He hit “Play” and sat back, watching like a spectator, occasionally hitting “Fast Forward” to skip the moments when nothing appeared to be happening. He wiped another drip of perspiration from his temple and watched a tall Asian man descend stairs and approach an office at the back of the video. He knocked on the door and pushed it open. Dan noted the time to be 10:31 p.m. and deduced from Tracy’s recounting of the Article 32 hearing that this was Brian Cho, the prosecutor. Dan again hit “Fast Forward.” Cho exited the office, shutting the door at 10:37 p.m. Again he paused, this time to slip on his camouflage hat. As he approached the camera, he shook his head, grinning as if bemused by something.

Shortly thereafter, a woman exited the same office carrying a box. She walked away from the camera. This he assumed to be Leah Battles, the defense lawyer. Dan noted the time to be 10:49 p.m. He hit “Fast Forward,” then slowed the tape when Battles returned. The counter indicated the time to be 10:54 p.m. He sped up the disc, then again hit “Play” when Battles departed her office. She’d changed from the camouflage attire into athletic clothes. Approaching the camera, she snapped on a bike helmet as she departed. He scribbled on his notepad that she wore a backpack and raised the question: Could Battles have hidden videocassette in her backpack when she left for the night?

He sat back, sipping his water and glancing over at the dogs. They lay flopped on their sides in a stream of sunlight through the windows. He returned his attention to the video when the janitor entered the building. Dan scribbled the time: 11:03 p.m. The janitor began emptying trash bins. Dan hit “Fast Forward,” and the janitor moved quickly about the reception area and the offices. When he exited the front door, Dan hit “Pause” and noted the time to be 11:17 p.m.

On the notepad he wrote, Second-floor janitor? He hit “Play.”

The first-floor janitor returned at 11:26 p.m. carrying a bucket of what looked like cleaning supplies, and a vacuum, which he left in the lobby. He carried the cleaning supplies to the back of the camera’s coverage, presumably to the bathrooms.

Dan again hit “Fast Forward” and then “Play” when the janitor reappeared, set the supplies on the reception desk and vacuumed. When he’d finished vacuuming, the janitor exited the building carrying the vacuum and cleaning supplies. The time stamp indicated it was 12:13 p.m. No one else entered or exited the building until the following morning. Cho returned at 7:15 a.m. and disappeared down the hall to the stairs. Others arrived. Leah Battles entered the office at 7:42 a.m.

Dan hit “Stop” and scribbled on the notepad.

Janitor have motive?

Court reporter?

Leah Battles?

Cho? Arrived early the following morning. Was court reporter in office yet? Why would Cho take the tape?

He set down the pen, sipped his water, and gave the tape some additional thought. After a moment he hit “Rewind,” and played the disc contents backward. He’d learned the technique from an experienced trial lawyer in his firm in Boston. The man said he played tapes and discs backward to prevent his eyes, and his subconscious, from anticipating what he was about to see, instead of seeing what actually occurred. He said it also allowed him to focus not on the people in the tape, but rather on the environment.