“Might?” élan stepped closer, not enough that Tracy felt threatened, but it was clear he intended to intimidate. “Might? You came out here to tell us you might find out something? You mean you don’t even know anything yet?”
“I came to get your father’s approval and to let him know the sheriff has reopened the file.”
“You want his approval? My mother went to her grave grieving Kimi’s death. My father has been without his daughter for forty years. And you come here and tell us you might have . . . what? What could you possibly have?”
“The coroner’s report. Witness statements. Photographs.”
“Photographs of what?”
“The clearing,” Earl said.
Again, élan’s glance flickered between his father and Tracy. “The clearing? What does the clearing have to do with anything?”
“The deputy took photographs of it,” Tracy said. “I’m having them analyzed.”
“Why? Do you think a ghost killed Kimi?” élan smiled, but it was a dark smile. “Maybe it was Henry Timmerman come back to life to seek his revenge.”
Tracy couldn’t blame élan for his skepticism. She’d grown more and more skeptical with each year that she couldn’t solve Sarah’s death. After twenty years, she’d all but given up hope.
“Your sister never made it home. Don’t you want to know why?”
“We know why. She threw herself in the river.”
“Do you believe that?”
“What difference does it make whether I believe it or not. That’s what they told us.”
“What if they’re wrong?”
“What if they’re not? Are you going to get my father’s hopes up like that deputy who told us he was going to find Kimi? He found her all right. He found her in the fucking river. I think you should leave.” élan stepped back and motioned to the door. “I think you should get the hell out.”
“Stop,” Earl said, his voice soft and calm. élan lowered his arm and looked away, like a chastened boy not about to challenge his father, but also not about to listen. Earl rolled his wheelchair to Tracy. The dog padded alongside him. Earl reached up and took Tracy’s hand. His skin was cool to the touch and so thin it revealed every bone and knuckle. “The deputy was young,” he said. “He was starting a career, and he had a family to consider. You are not just starting your career. And you have no family.”
“No,” Tracy said, not entirely certain what he was getting at and how he would know that she had no family. “I don’t.”
Earl released her hand and offered back the file. “Finish what Buzz Almond started.”
“I’ll try.” Tracy took the file, glanced at élan, and started from the room. élan eyeballed her as she stepped past him and pulled open the door. She wasn’t surprised that he followed her down the porch and out into the yard. She wasn’t about to look like she was running from him, so she turned and faced him.
“My father might trust you,” he said, “but I don’t.”
“Why’s that? Why wouldn’t you trust me?”
“Trust isn’t given. It’s earned.”
“So why not give me a chance to earn yours?”
“Because we’ve been trusting you for two hundred years and you just keep ripping us off.”
It was the type of generic statement Tracy had heard often as a police officer when someone had no specific or rational answer to one of her questions. Instead, they accused her of being a racist. “I’m Norwegian and Swiss,” she said. “And a little Irish. What did I rip off from you?”
élan smiled, but again there was no humor in it. “What? Did my father wow you with that little show back there—the part about you not being young and not having a family? Do you think he’s some kind of Indian medicine man?” He glanced at her hand. “You’re not wearing a wedding ring. And you aren’t exactly young. I wouldn’t get too worked up about it if I was you.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why wouldn’t you want to know? If you’re big on injustices, why wouldn’t you want to right this one, this one above all others?”
“Because in the end you won’t find anything, and even if you did, nothing will come of it. That’s the way it’s always been.” He took a half step toward her. “Don’t come back here unless you have something real to tell us. Don’t come with your ‘might haves’ or ‘maybes.’ Don’t make promises you can’t keep. And don’t send an old man to his grave with expectations you aren’t prepared to fulfill.”
élan gave her a final withering glare, then turned and went up the steps and back inside, the door slamming shut. Tracy looked to the right, to the plate-glass window facing the field of kale. Earl Kanasket had rolled his wheelchair to the window, but this time he was facing it, watching her.
After driving by the address provided for Tommy Moore and finding the name “Moore” on the mailbox but no one home, Tracy drove into downtown Toppenish and found a restaurant to grab a bite to eat. She ordered a turkey sandwich, sipped on an iced tea, and thought of Buzz Almond and how he must have regretted telling the Kanasket family that he would find Kimi and that she was going to be all right. It was not an infrequent mistake made by young officers with good intentions. Tracy had been in that helpless situation herself, both as an officer and as the relative of a victim of a horrific crime, but she had quickly come to learn the two were not the same.
For a police officer, a violent crime was one case in a career. You did your job and went home. For the family, the crime was a life-altering moment they would never forget. Buzz Almond wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t wanted to ease the Kanaskets’ worry, but he must have felt incredible guilt when he watched the Search and Rescue team pull Kimi Kanasket’s body from the water and realized he wasn’t going to be able to deliver on his promise. Tracy wondered if that was why Buzz had maintained an interest in the case. She also wondered why, if he thought Kimi Kanasket hadn’t killed herself, he hadn’t pursued it further.
Earl Kanasket said Buzz Almond had been starting a new career, with a family to consider. Was he implying that Buzz Almond had reason to be concerned about the well-being of his family, or simply making a statement of the limitations Buzz was operating under? If the latter, Earl Kanasket was correct in his assessment of Tracy. She had no such limitations. If the former, however, Earl Kanasket’s comment very well could have been intended as a warning.
CHAPTER 13
Tuesday, November 9, 1976
After filling out his reports for his shift, Buzz went looking for Jerry Ostertag, who was not at his desk.
“He went to take a leak,” another detective said.
Buzz jogged down the hall and around the corner, the soles of his shoes slipping on the worn linoleum when he tried to slow. He called out, “Detective Ostertag?”