by Jaden Skye
Tracy heard the bitterness in his voice and recoiled. “The case isn’t over,” she answered quickly, “but I’ve been tossed off it. You’ll probably hear about it on the news soon.”
Wess grew silent. “Fired? Why?”
“They don’t think it’s safe for me to stay in town,” Tracy replied. “My hotel room was ransacked.”
“I heard that,” said Wess, calmly.
He’d heard it and was so calm? Tracy felt uneasy. “It doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Wess answered. “Someone obviously just wanted to teach you a lesson. You stepped on someone’s toes. You’re tough, Tracy, you can do that.”
“Any idea who might have wanted to get back at me, Wess?” Tracy managed.
Silence fell on the other end. “Why would you ask me something like that?” he finally said. “How would I know all the nuts you run into? How would I know why you do what you do? You have a way of crossing the line, Tracy. Even Jill mentioned it to me.”
Tracy gathered herself together swiftly. Was Jill still there with Wess? Were they spending more and more time together? Obviously, she was filling him with all kinds of ideas. Tracy stopped herself on the spot. She couldn’t let herself become paranoid about Jill. It was too easy and dangerous to do that.
“I’ve crossed what line, Wess?” Tracy asked him.
“The line, the line,” he thundered back.
“It’s my work to cross the line,” Tracy plowed forward. “I have to cross all lines, to dig underneath the tunnel of people’s lives. Is that so bad? I think it’s gutsy.”
“It’s dangerous and upsetting.” Wess softened. “It’s not a way to live a life.”
“It’s my way, Wess,” Tracy answered, her voice trembling.
“I see that, I realize,” he answered sadly. “We’ll talk about it later. Are you’re coming back today?”
“In a few days,” she replied.
“Why a few days?” Wess was annoyed. “What are you staying around there for?”
“There are some things I have to tie up,” Tracy replied. She had absolutely no desire to say anything further about the case to him, though.
“Well, stay as long as you want,” he said then. “Give me a call when you return.”
“That’s all you have to say?” asked Tracy, numb. Even Clay, a stranger, had been more concerned.
“I told you, we’ll talk in person,” Wess reminded her. “As soon as you get back, call me, and I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
*
By now the rain had subsided. It was mid-afternoon but Tracy hadn’t had lunch yet and wasn’t ready to go back to her room. She wanted to talk to someone, thrash out things together. She thought of Wanda, and then Pastor Boyd. Neither of them hit the spot. Then, suddenly, to her surprise someone else came to mind. It was a good idea. Tracy picked up and dialed.
Chapter 33
Tad Warehouse answered immediately. “Tracy, what’s up? I can’t believe you’re calling.”
“Got a few minutes to talk, Tad?” she asked.
“A few minutes?” He sounded delighted. “I have the whole day and the whole night. Want to meet me at Café Bara?”
“Somewhere else this time,” suggested Tracy. She didn’t want to stay so near the offices, enjoyed being around nature more.
“I know where,” said Tad, and gave her the name of a small block about a mile away from the Charles River. “It’s pretty there, real close to the water.”
“Good,” said Tracy, “let’s meet there. We can go for a long walk.”
*
Tracy met Tad on a winding cobblestone road, not far from where she’d seen Pastor Boyd this morning. Dressed in a yellow rain slicker and boots, Tad rushed over the moment he saw her.
“So, we meet again, Tracy.” Tad was excited. “It was bound to happen. I knew it from the start. Any developments on the case I should know of?”
Tad was a good man, but also a bit off-putting, thought Tracy. She’d had his alibi thoroughly checked out, though, and all the people whose names he gave her claimed to have seen him busy at work the days the women went missing. They’d also mentioned how upset he’d been about it and what a dear man he was. There was no reason to doubt him. Tracy definitely had to get to know him better before she told him she’d been fired, though. Who knew how he’d react?
“I just wanted to walk a bit and talk about things,” said Tracy, wondering why she felt so comfortable with him. Probably because he was a plain, direct guy, without any pretenses, she decided. Tracy could be herself with him, say what she thought, not have to be so buttoned up. Being careful and buttoned up wasn’t the way to find a killer anyway, especially one who thrived on confusion and tricks. If Tracy was really serious about finding him, she had to enter the killer’s world, become as confused as he was, maybe. She had to walk the walk he’d chosen. It was rule number one. Besides, right now, the last thing Tracy felt was buttoned up. She felt angry and betrayed by having been let go. She was determined to play it as she saw fit. What choice did she have? Candace’s life hung in the balance. That’s all that really mattered.
“Want to talk about anything in particular?” asked Tad. “Does anyone have an idea about who ransacked your hotel room?”
“That’s old news, it doesn’t concern me now.” Tracy tossed if off.. Tracy was aware what a strange combination they were, strolling under the old trees. But right now the case had become her whole world and Tad was immersed in it as well. They both wanted the killer caught. That was comforting to Tracy.
“Why aren’t you concerned about what happened to your room?” Tad asked gingerly as he lumbered along at her side. “Most women I know would be frightened to death.”
“I’m sure they would,” murmured Tracy.
“You’re different,” Tad leaned in closer to her. He had the smell of stale beer about him.
“I feel protected,” Tracy said boldly. “Always have.”
“Protected by who?” Tad rubbed his big face, looking skeptical.
The conversation had taken an odd turn and Tracy didn’t want to pursue it. She’d just meant to have a simple walk and find out more about him as well.
“Tell me more about yourself, Tad.” Tracy changed the topic as they then walked under a cluster of low hanging trees.
“Not much to tell,” Tad spoke heavily. “Just a simple kind of guy. I like to see justice done though. Always did. My mother taught me that.”
“You were close to your mother?” Tracy was interested. She never knew what to expect from him. Tad was certainly his own kind of guy, different from other men she knew.
“I was as close to my mother as I had to be,” he chortled. “Mom was a regular churchgoer, though, and I was not.” They passed by Pastor Boyd’s church as he spoke. “Mom would probably have loved going there,” he continued, pointing to the sprawling clapboard church. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“It is,” said Tracy. “It’s the only place we have that links at least two of the victims. Candace was getting married here and Shannon worked at the nursery school. The place has no connection to Tina, though.” Tracy watched Tad look the place over.
“Everyone knows that,” Tad commented, blandly. “But the place is powerful. I still think you should spend time snooping around inside.” And he grinned.
“What’s powerful about it?” Tracy asked, surprised.
“Churches are powerful places.” Tad’s eyes closed a bit as he spoke. “All kinds of people go in and out. Some use it to hide.”
The idea of that unnerved Tracy. “Tina had no connection to this place, though,” she objected.
“So what?” Tad grinned. “People don’t speak much about Tina these days. They did in the beginning but now she’s nothing but yesterday’s news.”
“Tina’s far from yesterday’s news,” Tracy was upset by his remark. “They’re focusing so much on Candace now because they’re still hoping she’s alive.”
“Hoping!” Tad snarled. “But what are they really doing about it? Just putting on a big show.”
“They’ve been searching for her night and day,” Tracy uttered, not knowing what Tad was getting at.
“Not really,” he insisted.
“They’re trying.” Tracy felt she had to defend her co-workers.
“They’re just going along the old beaten path,” Tad muttered. “Bring out the dogs, listen to tipsters, check police records, talk to snitches in the jails. Only you are trying something new! That’s why I admire you, Tracy.”
Tracy liked Tad. She enjoyed his persistence and his offbeat way of seeing things.
“What else should they do to find the killer?” Tracy couldn’t help ask.
Tad shrugged and smiled slowly. “Let’s walk faster,” he answered, as they picked up their pace and began to approach the Charles River.
“I like it here,” Tad murmured as they walked, “especially in the afternoon.”
Tracy liked it there too. The day had grown overcast again, but Tracy barely noticed it, was preoccupied with the realization that two of the victims had been connected to the same church. And what about Tina, how did she fit in? Tracy suddenly remembered the small wooden crucifix she’d found in the alley.
“Oh my!” Tracy said aloud. “That’s it!”
Chapter 34
“What?” asked Tad, excited.
“I found a little wooden crucifix in the alley where the killer dumped Tina’s body,” Tracy exclaimed.
“So what?” Tad didn’t like that, took a step away from her.
”Tina was involved with church,” Tracy insisted.
“She went to recovery meetings somewhere else,” Tad declared.
“Where?” asked Tracy.
“What difference does it make?” Tad grumbled. “She was a whore.”
Tracy stood still. “She was a human being who suffered, Tad.”
She was cold,” Tad mumbled suddenly. “If you wanted her love you had to give her money for it. What kind of woman is that?”
Chills ran up and down Tracy’s arms. “Did you know Tina, Tad? Did you ever see her in person?”
Tad moved back and stared at Tracy. “What makes you ask me something horrible like that? Do I look like the kind of guy who uses filthy women, who spends time with garbage? If you think that, you don’t know me, Tracy.”
“I’m not suggesting that,” Tracy replied quickly, disturbed that she’d offended him. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“How did you mean it?” Tad became sullen.
“I was just wondering if there was any possible connection between Tina and this church as well.”
“How could there be?” Tad refused to believe it. “She wasn’t from this neighborhood, was she? How in the world would she wind up here?”
It was a good question and Tracy dwelt upon it. She scanned her memory for everything she’d learned about Tina.
Tad suddenly stopped on a dime, dug his feet onto the ground. “If you want to find out more about what went on in the church, go inside!” he demanded. “Talk to anyone you find.”
Tracy thought about Pastor Logan. The idea of speaking to him again was off-putting.
“I already spoke to Pastor Logan,” she said.
Tad looked at her strangely. “Who cares about Pastor Logan?” He dug in further. “Look around the place, go into the sanctuary, see who’s hanging out there. Sit down next to them a few minutes. Then say a word or two. Start up a conversation.” Tad was breathing heavily.
The subject really got him going. Tracy watched his heavy arms shake. Still, despite his odd behavior, it wasn’t a bad idea.
“It’s a good idea.” Tad’s eyes narrowed. “You want to know if anyone there knew Tina, go and find out!” Then he laughed loudly at his grand plan.
Tad was right, it was an interesting suggestion. Help often came from the oddest places, Tracy thought.
“Will you come into the church with me, Tad?” Tracy asked, wanting to see how he would respond.
“Sure I will,” Tad’s face flushed a moment. “Why not? I’m not scared. Wherever you go, I’ll go. I’ll track this monster down to the end.”
*
The narrow clapboard steps to the church creaked as Tracy and Tad stepped up to the entrance and went inside. It was late afternoon by now and the light was dimming as the wind blew up.
Tracy pulled open the old door and they walked into the foyer opposite the sanctuary.
“Go see who’s inside there.” Tad threw his head back.
Tracy felt like she’d be intruding on those in prayer.
“I’ll stand out here and wait for you,” Tad murmured.
“Why don’t you come in with me, Tad?” Tracy whispered.
“Not me,” he chortled, “not ever.” Then he gave her a little push. “You go in and I’ll be here.”
Tracy lurched away and walked slowly into the sanctuary, alone.
It was beautiful, shaded, and peaceful inside. Light shone softly through the old stained glass windows, and to Tracy’s surprise a few people, scattered here and there, were kneeling at worship.
Tracy took a seat near the rear, bathing in the light and calmness. Softly, she looked down and from deep within, asked for help. She asked for clarity and guidance in helping save Candace’s life. I can’t do this alone, she kept repeating, even though she fully realized that no one was ever alone. Help was waiting everywhere.
When Tracy lifted her eyes, she saw a young man rise from one of the rows further down and slowly walk to the rear. As he came closer, to Tracy’s surprise, he looked familiar. In a flash she realized it was Andy, Candace’s ex-boyfriend.
Tracy rose instantly and followed him outside. “Andy?” she said breathlessly, when they both had exited the sanctuary.
Andy turned, startled, and looked at Tracy, barely remembering who she was.
“I’m Tracy Wrenn,” she immediately filled him in, “investigator on Candace’s case.”
“Oh yes!” Andy’s eyes opened wide.
Neither of them had another word to say for a moment. Then Tracy quickly collected herself. “I’m trying to speak to anyone I find at church,” she whispered, “to see if they might know more about the case.”
Andy took a step away. “Good idea,” he finally said slowly.
“I’m trying to find out if anyone might have ever seen Tina here.”
At first Andy seemed confused.
“Tina’s the first woman who was taken and killed,” Tracy filled in quickly.
“Oh yes, of course,” Andy replied. “I remember now. She was in recovery, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Tracy, surprised he would remember a detail like that.
“Tina came to some of the recovery meetings at our hospital,” Andy offered then.
“Where was her group based?” asked Tracy quickly.
“They were based in a church in her neighborhood,” said Andy, “but as I recall several people from that group also went to meetings at other places. It’s not unusual.”
Tracy took a deep breath as she and Andy stared at each other.
“Did she ever come here?” Tracy asked, struck by the idea.
“I have no idea,” said Andy, taking another step away. “Why not call and find out? Someone would know. There have to be records of it.”
Tracy looked at Andy and smiled. What a strange coincidence to have run into him here.
She was excited by his suggestion, though, and wanted to tell Tad about it.
Tracy looked around for Tad then, but the foyer was empty. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Something wrong?” asked Andy, watching Tracy look around fervently.
“Someone came here with me,” Tracy replied. “He said he’d be waiting for me, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
Andy took a step closer to Tracy. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “People come and go here all the time. They come for all
kinds of reasons. Sometimes they stay for hours, sometimes they get out fast. Your friend will probably be back in a minute.”
Tracy wanted to tell Andy that Tad was not her friend, he was something else, an odd companion on the search. Of course she couldn’t say anything like that to him. In fact, she wondered how often Andy came here himself.
“Thanks, Andy,” Tracy said lightly, instead.
It’s wonderful of you to keep on searching for Candace like this,” Andy replied.
Tracy saw the great pain Andy was in then, felt his sorrow.
“We’ll find Candace, Andy,” she suddenly promised.
“Every day I come here and pray for help,” Andy started slowly, when out of the corner of her eye Tracy suddenly saw Tad pacing back and forth down the hallway. She turned fully toward him then and stared.
“Who’s that?” asked Andy, startled, following her glance.
“Someone who’s helping me,” Tracy whispered back. “Other than that, I’m not really sure.”
*
“I have to find out if Tina came to meetings here immediately,” Tracy said to Tad after Andy had gone and Tad had once again come to her side.
“Slow down, slow down,” Tad mumbled.
“Why?” asked Tracy, wired, as she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed the central office of the church.
“They won’t give you the names of people who attend those meetings, it’s private,” Tad said, trying to stop her.
“This is FBI calling,” Tracy said the moment someone answered. “I need to speak to the person who runs the recovery meetings.”
Tad took a step away. “This wasn’t what I was planning for the afternoon,” he muttered.
“Recovery.” A woman’s voice answered.
“FBI,” Tracy repeated. “I need to know immediately if Tina, the first victim of the crime spree in Boston, attended recovery meetings at your church?”
The woman became silent. Then her voice lowered. “Can you please identify yourself?” she asked.
“This is urgent,” Tracy answered harshly. “It’s Tracy Wrenn calling, criminal profiler on the case.”
