One Split Second

Chapters 1-3

Sheriff Jenny Almond drives away from Stoneridge on a stormy November night. The deep canyons and bedrock walls carved by the White Salmon River are hidden behind dark clouds and heavy rain. Gusts rattle her SUV and billow through the trees. Something feels off, a twinge in her gut her father taught her to trust. She had just settled in with her husband Neil after sending their children Sarah and Trey upstairs to bed. It was their first alone time in weeks after her long hours campaigning for reelection. Then the house phone rang.

Neil tries to talk her out of going. "You're no longer the sheriff," he says, bitterness in his tone. Jenny tells him she is, until her term expires January first, and until then she intends to do her job. Neil urges her to call dispatch and send Undersheriff Travis Beaumont, the newly elected sheriff who won by the slimmest of margins after calling Jenny soft on crime. Neil wants Beaumont to get his ass out on a night like this and deal with it. But the caller was Anthony Alvarez, a Vietnam veteran with a history of PTSD. He had called Jenny and Neil's home phone asking to speak to Buzz, Jenny's father and the former longtime sheriff Theodore "Buzz" Almond. Alvarez had seemingly forgotten that Buzz passed away in 2016, though he had attended the funeral.

Buzz told Jenny that if Alvarez ever called, she was not to send a patrol car to his five-acre property. She was to handle the matter personally. Buzz said Alvarez's PTSD had led to a life of demons, but he wasn't a bad man, just a man who'd been in a bad situation in the bush in Vietnam. Buzz also served as a Marine in Vietnam, and he understood the pressures and nightmares war inflicted. Though paranoid, Alvarez trusted Buzz, and by association, he trusted Jenny. During the call, Alvarez rushes his sentences, difficult to hear over the storm's havoc on cell reception. He keeps saying he has something Buzz would want to hear. He says, "I'm in Indian Country. They'll come for me." Jenny knows from her father that Vietnam soldiers referred to hostile areas outside a unit's base camp as Indian Country. When she tries to calm him, he becomes frustrated. "It's starting again," he says, voice rising. "Because of the articles in the newspaper." He repeats that he needs to talk to Buzz, then goes silent. Just when Jenny thinks they've lost connection, Alvarez whispers, "Someone just tripped my wire." Then the call drops.

Jenny searches the recycle bin for the morning edition of the Stoneridge Sentinel. She finds an article on the front page about the forty-five-year anniversary of the disappearance and presumed death of fifteen-year-old Jacquelyn Parker. Alvarez was a person of interest in Parker's disappearance from the Carson Cattle Ranch. Buzz, then a deputy sheriff, was the first officer on scene and remained heavily involved in that investigation. It gives Jenny context for Alvarez's call. She tells Neil she isn't sending anyone else out there, that she's concerned about a confrontation. Neil worries he's off his meds, but Jenny says she can talk him down, that he knows and trusts her. She plans to get Alvarez into the VA hospital in Portland, then speak to his behavioral health caseworker in the morning. Neil warns it's dangerous, that Alvarez is a vet and likely has guns. Jenny points out that many people in Klickitat County have guns, including Neil. He retorts with anger about Beaumont, saying he wouldn't piss on that man if he was on fire. Jenny shakes her head, thinking talking Alvarez down will be easier than talking Neil down.

Neil asks if she's taking Max, the nickname she and Neil agreed on for her Glock 9 mm handgun. She displays it holstered on her hip and tells him she'll be back within an hour, to keep the Jamesons cold. The twinge in her gut worsens as she nears the unmarked road to Alvarez's property. The county has tried multiple times to put up a street sign, but it keeps getting removed, the last pole sawed off three feet above the ground. She spots the gap in the trees and turns onto the dirt and gravel, her tires finding more potholes than flat ground. She slows the SUV and searches the wall of darkness for the narrow path leading to the clearing and Alvarez's dilapidated single-wide trailer. She finds the gap but pulls over to gather her thoughts. Metal No Trespassing signs nailed to tree trunks shudder with each gust, and raindrops whip against the car like flung pellets. She lets out a held breath and asks what put a bee in Alvarez's bonnet this night of all nights. She pushes open the door, and a gust nearly pulls the handle from her grasp. She raises her hood, tugs the toggles tight, pats Max in her Safariland holster as is her habit, and turns on her Maglite to ensure it works.

As the rain assaults her, Jenny thinks maybe Neil was right. Maybe she should have called Beaumont and told him he could have the job now. She sighs, thinking the sooner she gets this done, the sooner she can return home to Neil, the roaring fire, and her glass of Jameson. She sidesteps down a wet and slick slope, stumbles once and nearly falls, but regains her balance. The air smells of wet dirt and grass. Her flashlight illuminates the trailer and a yard cluttered with rusting metal appliances, a dishwasher, washing machine, dryer, and several older-model trucks, some just shells, others in various stages of repair. As she nears the trailer, something hits her shins and she hears a rattle over the storm. She directs the beam to the source: tin cans strung on wire, hanging roughly six to twelve inches off the ground, encircling the yard and trailer. She recalls her father telling her how soldiers in the bush filled tin cans with pebbles, using them as a perimeter security system to alert them if the Vietcong tried to slip past the wire. Someone just tripped my wire.

The wind howls at her back, and overhead the treetops whip across the night sky. She wonders if the noises Alvarez said he heard were the storm's doing. She turns back to the trailer. No light seeps from the small windows; Alvarez has taped cardboard to the inside. Paranoid. Cautiously, she climbs the two wooden steps to the aluminum door, stands to the side, and bangs hard with her fist, calling out for Anthony and identifying herself as Sheriff Almond. No answer. About to reach for the door handle, she hears a sharp, loud crack and instinctively drops to the ground. To the untrained ear it could be lightning and thunder or a branch snapping, but to Jenny it sounds like the report of a rifle. The sound comes from the tree line roughly one hundred yards up a steep hillside. She raises her head and a second later sees a muzzle flash in the trees and hears a second report. Definitely not lightning or thunder. Somebody is shooting. At what, she doesn't know. Maybe ghosts from Vietnam. She doesn't want to be one of those ghosts.

She draws Max and quickly duckwalks to the rusted dishwasher, using it as cover as she scans the darkened hillside. A hooded figure bursts from between the trees, a shadow hurling down the steep slope toward her, nearly tumbling out of control. Silver flashes at the figure's right side. Gun. Jenny raises the light and the barrel of her Glock, shouting "Sheriff! Freeze!" The figure quickly closes ground. She shouts "Police! Stop!" The metal object swings upward. A muzzle flash. Jenny fires. The advancing figure falls to his knees, then pitches forward onto the ground. Jenny keeps Max trained on the figure and takes a second to determine she has not been struck by a bullet. She moves forward in a crouch, gun in hand, swearing. The figure wears camouflage rain gear and thick-soled work boots. She kneels and presses two fingers against the person's neck. No pulse. She rolls the body over. Anthony Alvarez stares up at her with lifeless eyes. She drops back onto the ground and swears.

A different thought develops. She hadn't heard a report, saw only the muzzle flash when Alvarez raised the gun from his right side. She gets back to her knees and redirects her beam to Alvarez's hands. Nothing. She runs the light over the surrounding ground. Nothing. Panic sets in. The light reflects off something metal a foot from Alvarez's right hand. She moves closer: a long, silver, cylindrical flashlight. She lifts it. The bulb flickers, emitting a burst of light, then goes dark again. She gets to her feet and directs the beam across the ground, frantically searching. Nothing. She rolls Alvarez over. Nothing beneath him. She turns and looks up at the tree line where she saw the muzzle flash and heard the first reports. She draws Max again and moves purposely up the slope, her feet slipping on the slickened ground. At the tree line, she directs the beam between two trees, then steps into a small clearing, her light searching the surrounding shadows, gun barrel aimed at the beam. No one. Could the flashes of light have been Alvarez's flickering flashlight? No. She also heard rifle reports. She directs the beam to the saturated ground, a quagmire. She does not see any shell casings, but she notes something else. She squats to get a closer look at what appears to be a dozen bootprints, seemingly pointing in every direction.

Alvarez held a flashlight but not a weapon. He said over the phone he heard something, something that brought him out in the rain. Did he only imagine he heard something? Was it the storm? Another demon? Another delusion of a tormented mind? Jenny drops her gaze to consider the prints more closely. Delusions don't leave fresh bootprints. Someone else was here.

In Seattle the next morning, Del Castigliano calls out to Tracy Crosswhite as she walks past the Violent Crimes detectives' bull pens, asking her to settle a bet. She refuses, saying settling bets between Del and Vic Fazzio is like supervising children, and with a five-year-old daughter at home, she speaks from experience. She enters what had once been her bull pen, which smells of stale coffee, with binders cluttering the center table and papers covering Faz's and Del's desktops. Kinsington Rowe and Maria Fernandez have pushed back from their desks and spun their chairs to face the center. Del explains they were working graveyard and Faz offered to get them pizza, not buy, just pick something up. Faz is notoriously cheap. Faz came back with a pizza box, but instead of pepperoni or sausage, the pizza had roasted pear, caramelized onion, house pancetta, goat cheese, and honey. Del asks if he should have to pay for a falsely advertised pizza. Tracy looks at Kins and Maria; the vote is one to one, and Kins says she's the deciding vote.

Tracy says she's surprised, having always thought of Faz as old school. Faz says his son Antonio, a chef who opened Fazzio's restaurant, expanded his food palate. Del says Faz now thinks he's Anthony Bourdain and asks again if he has to pay. Tracy grins and says this is not pizza, that honey and pears are not something any self-respecting Italian would call pizza. Del and Kins hoot. Tracy then says there's a pertinent question that must be answered: did Del eat any of the falsely represented pizza? Faz and Fernandez hoot this time. Del admits he was starving and would have eaten the entire pear tree, the goat, and the beehive, comparing himself to someone on Naked and Afraid. Fernandez presses her palms to her eyes, saying she'll need gasoline to burn that image from her retinas. Tracy tells Del if he ate it, he has to pay for it. Faz stands and holds out his hand, and Del reluctantly slaps it with currency.

Tracy's personal cell phone rings. She answers it on her way to her Cold Case office on the building's perimeter. It's Jenny Almond, who went through the police academy with Tracy and remained close despite the three-hour driving distance. They'd recently spoken while Tracy recovered on medical leave from a broken collarbone, and Jenny had been embroiled in a taxing election. Tracy thought her invitation for Jenny and her family to spend a few days in Redmond was the reason for the call. Jenny says she's been better. Tracy hears the pain and worries Neil or one of the children is sick; Jenny had already lost both parents to cancer. Jenny says she shot and killed an unarmed man last night.

Dan picks up Tracy outside Police Headquarters on Fifth Avenue in downtown Seattle. He'd been in a meeting when Tracy called and conferenced him in with Jenny. Her husband, an attorney with criminal defense experience, listened to Jenny's version of the shooting, then told her not to say a word to anyone, that he and Tracy were on their way to Klickitat County and would meet Jenny at her home. After Tracy settles into the passenger seat, she opens her laptop and resumes searching for articles on the shooting. Dan says that just to get it out of the way, she can come with him for moral support, but she can't sit in on his meeting with Jenny without potentially breaching attorney-client privilege. Tracy says he's assuming she'll need to retain him and suggests waiting until the inquiry is finished. Washington State had created the Office of Independent Investigations for officer-involved, use-of-deadly-force incidents, but that agency is not yet operating in Klickitat County. The inquiry into whether the shooting was justified would be conducted by the Washington State Patrol's Criminal Investigation Team. Dan says the privilege starts before the actual retainer of counsel. Tracy suggests that if Jenny ends up needing an attorney, they'll say Tracy was his consultant. He raises his eyebrows and asks what kind of consultant.

Chapters 4-6

Chapter 4

Tracy drops Dan at Stoneridge’s small library so he can make calls. He needs to reach Jenny’s union attorney, confirm administrative procedures, find out when the WSP will likely seek a formal interview with Jenny, and ask when they can expect the investigative report. He also needs to return calls and handle office business. Tracy drives to Orchard Way, the street just above the library, lined with winter-barren oaks and wide maples. Wires sag between poles. She stops by a white picket fence in front of a single-story white clapboard house with forest-green shutters. The yard is dormant, and the house looks freshly painted, which strikes her as possibly not a good sign. In the years since she was last here, the home could have changed hands.

She steps through the gate, walks a cracked concrete path, pulls open the screen door, and knocks twice. Inside, she hears familiar voices and smiles. Sam Goldman opens the door, peering through the same black-framed glasses that always remind Tracy of Harry Caray’s. Goldman, retired publisher of the Stoneridge Sentinel, is in his late seventies or early eighties, though his curly hair has only flecks of gray. It takes him a moment, then his face widens into the warm smile Tracy remembers.

He greets her as “Great Hero” and asks what brings her back. Before she can answer, he raises a finger and guesses Jenny Almond. Tracy confirms he remembers her. Goldman rattles off her reputation as the Northwest cold case crime solver who determined who killed Kimi Kanasket forty years after she was dead and buried, calling it the most exciting thing in town since Dom Petrocelli punched out Gordie Holmes at a town council meeting in 1987. Goldman taps his temple and boasts about his steel-trap mind, though his body is falling apart quicker than the pig’s house built from straw. Tracy reminds him they solved that case together. Goldman chuckles and says he is too old to take undeserved credit and doesn’t need any; his tombstone was chiseled long ago. He calls everyone “Chief,” “Hero,” or “Great Hero.” He owned and published the Sentinel for decades and remains a newspaper reporter, which explains his accurate speculation about why Tracy has returned.

He asks if it is about Sheriff Jenny, noting that Tracy and Jenny attended the police academy together. Tracy tells him not to date her, she feels old enough. Sam jokes that they use carbon dating to estimate his age. Tracy confirms it is about Sheriff Almond and asks for more of his time, checking if she is interrupting his morning. Goldman says he will have time to relax when he is six feet under playing pinochle with the worms. A woman’s voice calls from inside, asking who is at the door. Adele, Sam’s wife, no taller than her diminutive husband, walks into the room. She moves a little slower than the last time Tracy visited a decade ago but is otherwise as Tracy remembers, dressed in black stretch slacks and a floral shirt, her hair recently styled.

Goldman announces Tracy Crosswhite, the great Northwest crime solver, and Adele smiles, though it is clear she doesn’t recall Tracy. Adele tells him to invite her inside so they aren’t heating the neighborhood. Goldman does and closes the door. The home is small but well-loved, the living room cozy and lived-in with wood-paneled walls and a freestanding wood stove in the corner, its black pipe stretching to the ceiling, radiating warmth and the faint scent of cedar. Adele offers coffee, though it isn’t very fresh. Tracy says she is fine and just wants a few minutes of Sam’s time. Adele says she sees him twenty-four-seven and will make tea, instructing Tracy to drink tea and not upset him because the doctor said his blood pressure is too high. Sam scoffs at doctors, saying they have to find something wrong to justify an annual physical, and claims he is like cheese, getting better with age. Adele rolls her eyes and gives Tracy a faint smile. Tracy promises not to upset him. Adele leaves.

Sam points to the sofa under the window facing a muted flat-screen tuned to an all-news channel. He says he misses Cronkite and Murrow, when you could trust the news, then flicks the remote and darkens the television. He sits in a recliner that creaks. Family photos of his daughters and grandchildren line the mantel and hang on the walls alongside a few watercolor landscapes. He tells Tracy she has his full attention and asks what he can help with. Tracy says he has obviously heard about the shooting at Anthony Alvarez’s property. Goldman says he read it in the newspaper and watched the local news this morning; they said Sheriff Jenny is on administrative leave. Tracy clarifies that Jenny put herself on leave pending an investigation by the Washington State Patrol. Goldman laments what is happening to their little town. Tracy asks what is happening.

Adele walks in with a tray of hot water, mugs, and assorted teas, asks if she is sure she can’t make Tracy something to eat, mentions Danish, and says she will bring it out. Tracy says this is fine and thanks her. Adele says she is going for a walk. Sam tells her to wear a scarf because she gets head colds. Adele agrees and looks at Tracy, again rolling her eyes with the same grin. Goldman refocuses. He says Almond has been put out to pasture like the old gray mare that ain’t what she used to be, and Travis Beaumont is in. Tracy says she hasn’t had a chance to discuss with Jenny what happened in any detail but knows the election was contentious. Goldman says it wasn’t pretty and calls Beaumont a blowhard, a trait that runs in his family; his father was a city councilman who, when he got going, made the wind pick up to sixty knots. Beaumont campaigned tough-on-crime, believing counties should control their own destinies rather than the state or federal government, and promised to create a volunteer posse to help police the county.

Tracy mentions she just met Beaumont and a few of his posse out at Alvarez’s property. Goldman says he isn’t wasting any time, sarcastically noting that is just what they need: more yahoos running around flashing badges and loaded guns, and Stoneridge will become the new Tombstone with a run on gravesites. Tracy asks why Klickitat County would need a posse. Goldman gives the politically correct answer: the county is too large for the sheriff’s office to police, almost two thousand square miles of mountains, forests, rivers, and remote areas. Covering such a vast area with limited full-time deputies is a challenge, and if there is an emergency, it is a potential disaster. According to Beaumont, the posse would assist with search and rescue, crowd control, disaster relief, and help at the courthouse and county jail, extending the sheriff’s office without draining the budget. Tracy asks for the non-politically correct reason. Goldman says Beaumont hinted that if there were another Covid crisis and the federal government tried to shut down local businesses again, or if anyone tried to limit or take away Second Amendment rights, he would gather a posse to protect those rights. Tracy asks if that means an armed insurrection. Goldman says Beaumont didn’t go that far, but you could infer it, and given the extremism on both sides, his message hit home with fifty-one percent of voters.

Goldman asks what Tracy was doing at Alvarez’s property and whether Jenny has been charged. Tracy doesn’t want to say too much with an investigation pending, though she doubts she needs to worry about Sam or Adele. She explains that Alvarez called Jenny’s house last night, said something about people being on his property, and asked to speak to Buzz. Goldman notes Sheriff Buzz has been gone going on ten years. Tracy says she knows, and Alvarez kept saying he had something Buzz would want to hear. The reason she is here is that Alvarez mentioned recent articles in the newspaper. Goldman immediately says Jacquelyn Parker’s disappearance. Tracy compliments his steel-trap mind. Goldman says he still reads the paper cover to cover every day; the Sentinel just ran the anniversary articles this week. Buzz Almond was the first law enforcement officer to arrive at the CCR ranch the night Jackie Parker vanished, and Alvarez was the person of most interest.

Tracy asks if CCR stands for the Carson Cattle Ranch. Goldman confirms it, noting fourth generations of ranchers and the closest thing to royalty around here. Tracy asks if he was here when the young woman went missing. He says he was and covered much of the investigation. Tracy asks if he thinks Anthony Alvarez was responsible. Goldman says a lot of people in town thought so, but nothing was ever proven. She presses for his opinion. He makes a face as if weighing evidence and says Alvarez wasn’t a bad guy; he just brought the war home with him. But to kidnap and kill a fifteen-year-old girl? He never thought so, no. Tracy asks if others did. He says some, for sure. She asks if enough that someone would kill Alvarez forty-five years after the fact. Goldman pauses, considering her, recognizing a gold nugget to a reporter, and says he doesn’t know about that, asking if that is what they are saying. Tracy says no, just speculation on her part. After Jenny got off the phone with Alvarez, she took a ride out to his property.

Goldman recalls it was raining so hard even the toads and frogs were drowning. Tracy tells him what Jenny told her: she saw something metallic and silver in his hand, then a burst of light, thought it was a gun, and when the figure didn’t stop, she fired. Goldman guesses no gun. Tracy says flashlight. Goldman says hers is a job he never wanted and offers sympathy for Sheriff Jenny, especially so soon after losing the election. Tracy tells him she drove out to Alvarez’s property and looked around, that he had newspapers open on his table, and she took a photograph. She opens her phone and shows him the photographs. Goldman quietly identifies Jacquelyn Parker, disappeared Friday, November 14, 1980, and says, “Dear God, that young woman will never rest in peace.” Tracy asks if he has any idea why articles marking the forty-fifth anniversary could have spooked Alvarez. Goldman says not really, other than that Alvarez was a person of interest and the girl’s disappearance rocked the town and everyone in it to their core, more so than the death of Kimi Kanasket five years earlier.

Tracy asks, more so? Goldman explains they never found Parker’s body, never had the faintest idea what happened to her, at least not that they told the public. She disappeared off the Carson Ranch, never seen or heard from again. He snaps his fingers for emphasis. With Kimi Kanasket, they at least had a body and a presumed cause of death. The family cremated their daughter and held a memorial, everyone had a chance to grieve. Tracy says they had closure. Goldman gives her a wry grin and says, until she came to town and upset their apple carts. He sighs and describes how Jackie’s desk sat vacant the rest of that school year, the administration left a blank space in the yearbook where her picture would have been, her parents refused to change her room, and her space in the church pew was never filled. The parents were the largest pear farmers in the county, but the grief was too much; they eventually turned the farm over to the remaining son and moved away. It felt like the town dried up, Goldman says. People didn’t smile as easily and weren’t as friendly. They became distrustful, especially of strangers. No one had ever locked their doors or windows in Stoneridge. After Jackie vanished, they locked and deadbolted them. Kids used to walk to school and home unattended, take detours, ride bikes to rivers and creeks to swim and fish, and no one gave it a second thought.

Tracy says, from personal experience, but not after. After Sarah disappeared, she wasn’t allowed to venture into the North Cascades on her bike with friends as she once had. Goldman says families locked down their houses and children tighter than Fort Knox locked down its gold. Couldn’t get a babysitter from here to the Canadian border. The town didn’t know how to move forward. Tracy asks why Alvarez was a suspect. Goldman says everyone was a suspect. She presses: but why Alvarez? He says Alvarez had the misfortune of being a Vietnam vet, and everyone believed him kookier than the cuckoo. He also lived in a trailer not far from the CCR ranch, just across the 141 alternate route above the White Salmon River. Tracy notes he lived close by. Goldman says close enough to have had the opportunity. He pauses, then says if he remembers correctly, they found a blood trail that led to Alvarez’s property, but don’t quote him on it. Tracy asks why not. Goldman says his recollection is the sheriff’s office went uncharacteristically quiet about the investigation, and he isn’t sure the blood trail was ever proven or if it was just another rumor.

Tracy apologizes for taking more of his time and starts to ask if he still has all the Stoneridge Sentinels in his storage shed. Tracy smiles. Goldman springs from his chair with more energy than he displayed earlier. He says, “Come on, Chief. Let’s go back to the future.” Tracy follows him out the back door off the kitchen and across his sun-drenched backyard to an enclosed shed with an attached lean-to. The shed doors are secured with a sturdy padlock. He removes the lock, swings the door open, flips a switch, and they step into the past. Two bare bulbs illuminate dust motes and cast muted light upon Sam Goldman’s treasures: bicycles, garden tools, baseball bats and balls, tennis rackets, file cabinets, and dozens of neckties adorned with Disney and Charles Schulz’s Peanuts characters. Goldman was

Chapters 7-10

Tracy and Dan return home to Redmond, where Therese is preparing Moroccan chicken. A Thanksgiving turkey Daniella made in preschool hangs on the fridge. Tracy remembers she needs a side dish for Thanksgiving with Vic and Vera Fazzio and their son Antonio. Vic hinted Antonio and his wife have news, suggesting he might become a grandfather. Outside, the dogs Sherlock and Rex bark beneath the covered patio, locked out after Therese tired of their indoor commotion. Tracy wonders whether love or hunger drives their enthusiasm, and Therese insists it must be love, noting Lydia took them on a long walk and fed them recently.

Lydia and Daniella are in the family room playing with Legos. Therese marvels at Lydia's brilliance. The arrangement benefits everyone: Lydia stays some nights each week, freeing Therese to take college courses and work part-time for Dan when Daniella attends school. Dan volunteers to handle the dogs while Tracy finds their daughter.

In the family room, the television remains off, another benefit of Lydia's presence since she finds TV overstimulating. Daniella lies on the carpet building miniature race cars and races across the room when she spots her mother. She proudly shows off her Ferrari, then squirms to return to her building. Lydia greets Tracy using her cowboy name, Crossdraw, and Tracy responds with Lightning Strike. Lydia reports that everything is excellent, her word of the day, and explains she's playing with Daniella so Therese can do schoolwork, though tonight Therese has no homework because of the holiday.

At nineteen, with long strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes, Lydia reminds Tracy of Sarah, who would perpetually be eighteen. Tracy has wondered whether Sarah might also have been on the autism spectrum, undiagnosed, which would explain her singular focus on shooting that made her one of the state's best competitors.

The dogs burst into the room, prancing and shaking their heads, circling Tracy for attention. Daniella squeals and grabs at their tails, exciting them further. When they approach Lydia, she guards the Lego cars like priceless relics. Tracy thanks Lydia for exercising them, and Lydia responds with a fact about Washington building codes and seismic forces, prompting Tracy to smile warmly.

Tracy announces it's time to wash hands for dinner, and Lydia mentions LegendCraft sent another game for her to play before tomorrow's work discussion. Tracy seizes the moment to ask Lydia about a special project, detective work, and offers to pay her. Lydia's eyes widen with interest. She has expressed wanting to become a detective, probably because of Tracy. When Tracy mentions it might be a very old case, Lydia eagerly agrees.

After dinner, everyone carries the boxes from the car to Dan's office. Therese offers to prepare Daniella for bed, but the child insists on Mommy. Tracy negotiates: she'll read to Daniella only if she bathes and puts on pajamas for Therese first. Daniella relents.

With Daniella occupied, Tracy explains the boxes' contents to Lydia: articles about Jackie Parker and the police investigation to be copied, organized chronologically, and placed in a binder. Mid-explanation, Tracy realizes the material could trigger a negative reaction in Lydia and offers her an out. Lydia insists she's fine and wants to do detective work, asking whether she should start tonight given her LegendCraft obligations. Tracy tells her to wait until her next visit. There's no rush after forty-five years, and Tracy expects the Washington State Patrol's investigation into Anthony Alvarez's death to continue through the holidays. She hopes it concludes favorably for Jenny, allowing her friend to retire in peace.

After Lydia leaves to work on her game, Tracy pours Scotch over ice, starts the gas fire, and settles on the leather couch. She knows she won't abandon Jackie Parker's cold case even if Jenny retires. The case has gotten under her skin. She knows what it means to go years without answers. Common sense and statistics say a loved one is likely dead after forty-eight hours, but you never accept statistics when it's your family. You push common sense aside to keep hope burning. She wonders if she's seeing ghosts where none exist, driven by her desire to find another missing young woman. Maybe. But she will do everything in her power to solve the mystery of Jackie Parker's disappearance, for the young woman, for her family if anyone remains, and to bring those responsible to justice. She will never allow her sister's death to have been in vain.

At CCR Ranch in Stoneridge on November 14, 1980, Curley Stevens arrives with his bloodhounds in a custom-made box on his weathered pickup. The dogs stick their heads through holes as Curley drives, saliva whipping from their jowls. These hounds are not just his livelihood; they are his children. Search and Rescue uses them to find missing persons, and they chase cougars away from civilization when needed.

Tonight, law enforcement and concerned civilians have converged on CCR, amping up the dogs, who bay incessantly, begging to be released. Their breath condenses in the cold air. Buzz wanted to hold back volunteers at the ranch entrance, but Lionel Devoe went behind his back and allowed them in, creating a circus with cars parked everywhere and people wandering about. Almond shakes his head in disgust, but soon it won't be his problem.

Detective Jerry Ostertag arrives, inching through the crowd to park behind other law enforcement vehicles. Buzz has mixed emotions. Ostertag outranks him, which means he'll take responsibility for the investigation, a relief. But they worked the Kimi Kanasket case together, and Buzz formed the impression Ostertag is lazy and lackadaisical, a poor combination for a detective. Too often he takes the path of least resistance, grabs credit for successes deserved or not, and levels blame on others for failures. Buzz will have to watch his back if they don't quickly find Jacquelyn Parker.

Ostertag pushes from his car, zipping his thick jacket and wincing as if he has a headache. For once his eyes aren't hidden behind blue-tinted glasses. He runs a hand over his shaved head and surveys the chaos, complaining about the circus atmosphere. Buzz corrects him: it's Buzz, not Bud, and the crowd is Lionel Devoe's doing. Ostertag worries they'll trample the place. Buzz explains he tried to cordon off the entrance, but Lionel went behind his back. The volunteers are Devoe's responsibility.

Ostertag asks what's going on, and Buzz brings him up to speed: Andrew Johns cordoned off the window someone appears to have used to enter, placed evidence flags, and an officer is stationed at the front door. Only Buzz, Leonard Parker, and Johns have been inside. Wyatt Carson suggested the dogs, given a girl is missing on a five-thousand-acre ranch bordering two state routes. Search and Rescue is on standby.

Ostertag orders Curley to quiet his dogs, but Curley insists they know when they're on the job and are ready to hunt. Despite the cold, Curley wears only a long-sleeve denim shirt, jeans, and boots. Thin with scraggly gray hair and missing teeth, he could be mistaken for a derelict.

Ostertag asks what the dogs will do. Buzz explains they'll get a scent from Jackie's sweater or shoe and determine the path her abductors took. Ostertag questions the plural, and Buzz admits uncertainty but notes the interior indicates a struggle, and it seems dubious a single man could subdue a noncompliant fifteen-year-old and get her out the basement window alone. Ostertag accuses him of making assumptions and asks if anyone checked for a boyfriend. Buzz grimaces, relaying that Leonard Parker described his daughter as a straight-A student with strong responsibility, not very social, no boyfriend, which is why she didn't mind missing the homecoming game to babysit.

Ostertag's tone shifts when he realizes this is Leonard Parker of the Parker Pear Farm. Buzz offers to let Ostertag run his theory by Parker himself. Ostertag adjusts his belt, revealing a middle-aged paunch from long lunches and cocktails, and asks who was first on scene. Buzz confirms he was and secured it. Ostertag asks about Levi and Evelyn, and Buzz confirms they haven't been inside. Ostertag questions how they'll know if anything is missing, suggesting maybe it was an intended burglary. Buzz has had enough, telling Ostertag his job was to secure the site until a detective arrived. It's Ostertag's site and investigation now. Johns and Parker can fill him in. Buzz will file his report.

Ostertag tells him to wait, clearly not wanting to lose him, and asks him to go with Curley and the dogs but to share anything else first. Both families have money and power to go over Ostertag's head, to influence and criticize. He doesn't want to be on that island alone. He steps closer and lowers his voice, asking if there's any indication this was a kidnapping. Maybe he needs the FBI, meaning some other agency to take control and ultimate responsibility. Buzz says there's no present indication of kidnapping, no note, and no indication the girl was taken across state lines, at least not yet, though the Washington-Oregon border is just halfway across the Columbia River bridge. He doubts the FBI will get involved.

Curley urges they get moving if they hope to find the girl. Buzz stops at his patrol car for his flashlight and portable radio, tuning to a dedicated police channel. The chatter is loud and constant, word of Parker's disappearance spreading quickly. He lowers the volume, grabs the evidence bag containing Jackie's sweater, and takes a second disposable camera from the glove box. He brings Curley and the dogs to the rear of the house and opens the bag to let them sniff. The dogs nearly rip it from his hands, which Curley says means the smell is strong. Their noses work overtime, sniffing deep and rapid, tails wagging, ears flopping to funnel scents, drool increasing.

The lead dog, Bonnie, becomes focused, turns toward the bramble behind the house, lowers her nose, then lifts it and bays. Curley encourages her, and she disappears into the brush with the other two following. Buzz and Curley push through blackberry bramble, thorns snagging Buzz's uniform. Beyond the bushes, they find a dirt path about five feet wide and jog to keep up with the dogs, who work in a zigzag pattern. Curley explains they go where the scent takes them, which could mean Jackie was swerving, perhaps hurt or struggling.

Buzz pauses, directs his light at the ground, and sees two sets of bootprints, one matching the print outside the basement window and on the carpet inside, the other a hiking boot. Between them are two lines of drag marks. Jackie had no shoes. Maybe she was hurt and being dragged or resisting. He crouches, photographs the ground, and hurries to catch up. The brush and trees would have provided cover onto and off the property, and the trail couldn't be seen from the guesthouse. Buzz wonders if the abductors knew the property or had prepared, raising more questions.

The dogs pick up pace, baying, with Curley's encouragement growing more persistent. They come to three strands of barbed wire between metal T posts marking the CCR boundary. Beyond it, a six-foot drainage culvert runs alongside SR 141 Alternate Route. Curley asks Buzz to pull up the bottom strand so the dogs can go underneath without cutting themselves. Buzz does, and the dogs scoot through, down into the culvert, and up the other side, noses to the ground. Buzz holds the middle strand for Curley, who then does the same for Buzz. On the other side, the dogs circle, moving north along the paved road for about twenty yards. Then they stop. They quit baying. Bonnie lifts her nose, sniffing. Curley looks to Buzz, but Buzz needs no explanation. The dogs have lost Jackie Parker's scent.

The holidays keep Tracy and Dan busy, though they manage a few days skiing in Sun Valley, Idaho. Therese, now with a visa, returns to Ireland for Christmas and New Year's. Daniella already skis solo on easy green-dot slopes, always in front of Dan or Tracy to prevent her from being run over. Dan didn't ski much growing up, his family unable to afford the luxury, but Doc Crosswhite was an avid skier who got Tracy and Sarah on Mount Baker's slopes as soon as their feet fit into ski boots. As with competitive shooting, Sarah surpassed Tracy, skiing fearlessly and without hesitation, tackling any slope with reckless abandon. Doc wanted to raise two independent, confident women, and Tracy wants the same for Daniella.

Tracy and Dan also make two trips to Stoneridge. Phillip Johanssen, a detective with the Washington State Patrol's Criminal Investigation Team, formally interviews Jenny with Dan and her police union attorney present. Johanssen's job is to determine if Jenny had an honest and good-faith belief the force she used was necessary based on facts and circumstances known to her. Jenny had to believe Alvarez posed a threat of death or serious physical harm. Dan tells Tracy he sees three potential problems based on Johanssen's questions. First, Alvarez didn't threaten Jenny with a weapon, though she might have believed he had one. Second, Jenny wasn't at Alvarez's property because she believed he committed a crime, so being there might not fall under her duties as sheriff and could be considered provocative. Third, based on Tracy's work, Alvarez was not off his meds. Dan says a savvy prosecutor could argue that since Alvarez wasn't hallucinating when he called Jenny about someone at his property, he also wasn't a danger to her.

Not wanting to influence Jenny's answers, neither Dan nor Tracy tells her about the pharmacy records or prescription bottles indicating Alvarez regularly took his medications. Tracy also doesn't tell Jenny she spoke with Alvarez's behavioral health caseworker at the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services and his counselor.

Chapters 11-13

Tracy and Dan meet Neil and Maria outside the Goldendale courthouse. Sophia has agreed to pick up the children from school and bring them to her home. Tracy is struck by the solidarity the Almond family presents. Jenny will not be alone in this fight. The thought makes Tracy think of what she once had when Sarah was alive and what she lost.

Dan walks them through what to expect in court. When Maria asks about bail, Dan admits that while they have a strong argument, bail is difficult in a murder one case. His first goal is to make the charge look like gross overreaching by the prosecutor. Maria presses him on what evidence the State actually has to support premeditation. Dan smiles. That question is exactly going to be his point.

As they approach the courthouse steps, Tracy spots two news vans in the parking lot, one from KATU in Portland and another from Fox 13 in Seattle. They climb the steps past art deco lamps and enter the building, ascending an interior staircase lit by pendant lamps and wall sconces. At the top, the lone courtroom sits behind two solid maple doors with glass panels. A group of men and women in tan shirts and dark pants stand outside, blocking access to a crowd of people. Some of Beaumont's posse. Dan identifies himself and the deputies step aside without argument.

Dan peers through the window and turns back to the others. A sheriff accused of murder is big news in Klickitat County. Neil looks like he might be sick. Maria, resolute, declares they will get through this. Maria pulls open the door and walks in with an air of defiance. Dan muses that she might ask to defend Jenny herself.

The gallery is packed. Six pews on each side of a center aisle are filled shoulder to shoulder, with more people standing along the walls speaking in hushed voices as if in church. Reporters raise their gazes from laptops and notepads. Cameras on tripods swing toward Dan as he finds seats for Neil and Maria directly behind the defense table. When he sets his briefcase on counsel's table, the volume of voices rises. Who would defend Sheriff Jenny Almond has clearly been on everyone's mind, and that the attorney is an unknown only further piques their interest.

Tracy positions herself at the back of the courtroom where she can watch the crowd. Sheriff Beaumont sits in the first row behind the State's counsel table, still wearing his cowboy hat. Tracy scans the posse along the far wall and catches the gaze of the man who pointed a rifle at her and Dan outside Anthony Alvarez's trailer. Without his cowboy hat, she almost does not recognize him. He gives her a hard stare intended to convey that she is not welcome and that the law in town has noted her presence. Tracy stares back with equal intent. He moves to the first pew and leans down to speak to Beaumont, who turns and looks over his shoulder, finding Tracy. He smiles and gives her a small tip of his hat. Tracy memorizes his face: mid to late sixties, good physical shape, graying hair trimmed short along the sides, pronounced cheekbones and pointed ears.

Another man enters wearing a cowboy hat, a dark-brown suit, and a yellow tie, looking very much like a politician running for office. He works the front rows, shaking hands with those seated there, including local reporters. At counsel's table, he extends his hand to Dan. The prosecutor, Erik Mitchell. The two speak longer than a simple greeting would take, and Tracy assumes Dan is asking about the WSP file, the contents of which led to Jenny's arrest.

At precisely three o'clock, Judge Colton Blackwood emerges from a door at the bottom of the stairs and climbs to his bench. A court reporter and clerk follow and take their seats in the well beneath him. Blackwood stands beneath a maple wall panel rearranging his files as he scans the packed gallery. He looks like a man who has just noticed a crowd of people in his living room and wishes they would all get the hell out.

Blackwood tells everyone to be seated. Mitchell rises to address the court, but Blackwood cuts him off before he can finish, saying he has a few things to say first. When Mitchell corrects the pronunciation of his name, insisting it is French and the T is silent, Blackwood scowls and tells him to sit down and be silent like his T, elongating the two syllables of Mih-shell. Mitchell sits. Tracy suppresses a smile, hoping the interaction signals Blackwood will not be giving hometown favors to the new county prosecutor.

Blackwood addresses the crowd and cameras, noting this is highly unusual for a simple arraignment. He acknowledges the media's First Amendment right to be present but warns that he has a Sixth Amendment obligation to ensure order and fairness. Step over the line of judicial decorum, he says, and they will lose their First Amendment right. He extends the warning to the spectators in the gallery. No one speaks. Satisfied, he instructs the correctional officers to bring in the defendant.

Two deputy sheriffs enter with Jenny Almond between them. She remains in her orange jumpsuit but has pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail. Her wrists are not cuffed. She nods to Neil and Maria before turning to stand alongside Dan, who smiles at her. Despite her circumstances, Jenny appears calm and in control.

Blackwood asks counsel to state their appearances. Mitchell identifies himself for the State. Dan introduces himself on behalf of Sheriff Jennifer Anne Almond, noting his office filed a notice of appearance that afternoon. Blackwood acknowledges the filing and greets Jenny. Mitchell interrupts, requesting that defense counsel and the court refrain from referring to the defendant as sheriff. Blackwood asks why. Mitchell explains that Jenny is no longer the county sheriff, that office now being held by Sheriff Travis Beaumont, who is seated in the gallery. Blackwood notes he could hardly miss Beaumont or the members of his posse along the wall. He asks Dan for comment.

Dan argues that the charges are allegedly due to Jenny responding to a call while she remained sheriff, and he does not see how it will be possible not to refer to her as sheriff in that context. Mitchell counters that Jenny is not being charged as having acted in her capacity as sheriff, that the evidence will show she was not on official police business and did not respond to a dispatch call. Moreover, reference to her as sheriff will confuse a jury and prejudice the State's case. Blackwood looks confused, asking if the State's case is not that she shot and killed a man while in her capacity as sheriff. Mitchell clarifies: not in her official capacity. Blackwood presses: but she was sheriff at the time she allegedly shot the victim? She was, Mitchell concedes, but she was not acting as sheriff.

Dan steps in, arguing that the title is relevant to the context of the incident. The victim specifically called the defendant seeking the sheriff of Klickitat County, and Jenny responded as such. Mitchell points out that the victim called Jenny at home, not the sheriff's office or 911 dispatch. Dan counters that Alvarez called the home but sought the sheriff. Blackwood asks Mitchell if he has authority to support his argument. Mitchell admits he does not, that the State did not anticipate this being an issue. Blackwood suggests he do some research and provide authority, or Jenny shall be referred to as Sheriff Almond, just as he shall endeavor to refer to Mitchell as Mr. Mih-shell with a silent T.

Tracy watches Beaumont, who shakes his head with pursed lips, clearly unhappy with this opening loss.

Blackwood moves on to the first appearance. He asks Dan if the defendant wishes to have the charges read aloud. Dan declines. Blackwood asks Jenny if she is prepared to enter a plea. She confirms she is and pleads not guilty, her voice strong and certain. Blackwood enters the plea.

Dan raises the issue of bail. Mitchell says the State opposes. Blackwood hears argument. Dan acknowledges the severity of a first-degree murder charge but notes the defense has no information whatsoever as to the basis of that charge. They have not yet received the Washington State Patrol's file or any document substantiating that the shooting was premeditated. Blackwood asks Mitchell why the defense has not received the WSP file. Mitchell says the State did not know who would represent Jenny until just now. Dan notes his office filed a notice of appearance that morning, served the State's office by email, and called to get a copy of the file to no avail. Blackwood asks if there is any reason the defense cannot have the file now. Mitchell says the State continues to go through the materials. Blackwood repeats the question. Mitchell admits they have not gotten around to copying the file. Blackwood smiles like a cat accosting a mouse and tells him to get it copied and delivered before counsel leaves the courthouse. When Mitchell says he does not have the file with him, Blackwood asks if he has his cell phone. Mitchell does. Blackwood tells him to call his office and tell them to shake a leg, and to make the call right there in the courtroom. Mitchell makes the call while everyone waits, then disconnects.

Blackwood returns to the bail issue. Dan lays out his argument: the people of Klickitat County know Jenny and her family. The Almonds have a long history of law enforcement service. Jenny has lived in Stoneridge her entire life. He details Buzz Almond's twenty-plus years as sheriff until his illness and death in 2016, when Jenny succeeded him. He describes the extended family's ties to the county. If bail is not granted, Neil and the children will have to move from Stoneridge to Goldendale, uprooting him from his job and the children from their school and community. Jenny is hardly a flight risk. Dan states she will surrender her passport, agree to an ankle bracelet monitoring her location within the county, and report by phone. He details why she is not a danger to the public. Because the defense does not yet have the WSP file, he cannot comment on the strength of the evidence or whether it warrants a first-degree murder charge.

Blackwood turns to Mitchell with a prove-it smile. Mitchell argues that Jenny has been charged with first-degree murder and the evidence is very strong. Blackwood pushes him on what that evidence is. Mitchell lays it out: Jenny claims she received a call on her home phone from Alvarez. The call did not come through the Department of Emergency Management. She did not alert dispatch or seek backup, though she knew Alvarez had a history of mental health problems. She drove out to his home late at night during a violent storm. Mitchell says she attempts to justify her unjustifiable killing by contending she saw muzzle flashes and heard rifle shots before she shot and killed Alvarez. No evidence supports her version that anyone else was present. Alvarez was not armed. This was a killing in cold blood. Bail would be unprecedented.

Blackwood asks what evidence the State has that the killing was premeditated and in cold blood. Mitchell says the State will present said evidence at trial but is prepared to say the evidence will not support Jenny's testimony that she fired a single shot as Alvarez raced toward her holding a shiny object she believed to be a pistol. Blackwood asks what evidence the State has to the contrary. Mitchell says Alvarez carried a flashlight, not a gun. No gun was found on his person or near his body. Moreover, the county coroner will testify that Alvarez was shot once in the chest and once in the back, a clear indication he was attempting to flee a conflict, not provoke one.

Tracy notices Jenny glance at Dan with genuine concern. Tracy's stomach lurches. Dan maintains his composure at this unexpected and potentially damning information. The gallery has an audible reaction. Tracy realizes what Mitchell is suggesting: that Jenny shot Alvarez in the back. She thinks that is not likely. If Alvarez had been shot in the back, that shot had to come from the tree line, which is where Jenny contended she saw the muzzle flashes and heard the reports. In Tracy's mind, a second bullet wound is further evidence someone else was there. It also supports her determination that Alvarez was not off his meds, was not suffering a PTSD attack, and had not imagined that someone had tripped his wire. She has something Buzz is going to want to hear. Alvarez had also said, "It's starting again. Because of the articles in the newspaper."

Mitchell states the State is confident it will obtain a conviction for first-degree murder, but should a jury be unable to convict, the State has included a second-degree murder charge.

Blackwood sits forward, rubbing his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. Tracy believes Dan made the stronger case, but this new information complicates things. Still, a shooting in the back does not necessarily equate to a premeditated killing. Dan jumps on the argument as if reading Tracy's mind. He argues that even accepting the State's allegations as true, which the defense emphatically does not, it does not equate to Jenny having had the intent to kill. Moreover, it does not undermine the substantial ties she and her family have to Klickitat County, nor does it prove she poses a threat to the general public. Mitchell retorts, "Tell that to Mr. Alvarez." Dan does not take the bait. Blackwood raps his gavel and warns Mitchell that trying that again will lighten his wallet significantly. Mitchell apologizes and says the defense can make these arguments at trial. Dan counters that the time to make these arguments is now, as they relate specifically to bail.

After a long moment, Blackwood rules. Taking into consideration Jenny's years in law enforcement, her lack of a prior criminal record, her and her family's significant ties to the community, and the lack of direct evidence that she poses a risk to the general public, he grants bail in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. The money is to be deposited with the county clerk's office. Jenny will surrender her passport and agree to be fitted with an ankle bracelet by the Department of Corrections and report in twice a day. Tracy knows this is good news. It is much easier to prepare a defense when a client is not in jail.

Blackwood asks if the defendant waives her right to a speedy jury trial. Dan says she does. Blackwood's clerk will call their offices to set the next hearing date. With nothing further from either counsel, the court is adjourned.

As the deputies escort Jenny from the courtroom, Neil and Maria rise to follow. Dan gathers his papers and catches up with them at the door