My Sister's Grave (Tracy Crosswhite Book 1) by Robert Dugoni

Author:Robert Dugoni [Dugoni, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2014-11-01T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 39

Tracy lowered the tailgate on Dan’s Tahoe while speaking into her cell phone. “This is Detective Tracy Crosswhite, Seattle Homicide,” she said out of habit. Dan slid Rex into the back and handed Tracy the keys. He climbed in with the dog. “I’m reporting a shooting in the six hundred block of Elmwood Avenue in Cedar Grove. Requesting all available units in the area to respond.”

Tracy slammed shut the tailgate and slid into the cab. “Suspect vehicle is likely a truck headed east on Cedar Hollow toward the county road.” She backed quickly down the driveway, bouncing into the street, tires squealing. “Vehicle’s left rear taillight is out.” She removed the phone from her ear and shouted to Dan. “Where am I going?”

“Pine Flat.”

She tossed her phone on the passenger seat and punched the accelerator. Sherlock whined and whimpered. In the rearview mirror Tracy could see him peering over the back seat at his fallen buddy. Dan continued applying pressure to Rex’s wounds, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and jaw as he carried on his own conversation with the veterinary clinic.

“He’s bleeding from multiple wounds. We’re about seven to eight minutes away.”

“How’s he doing?” Tracy yelled.

“Vet’s going to meet us. I can’t stop the bleeding.” Dan sounded panicked. “Come on, Rex. Hang in there, buddy. Hang in there with me.”

She turned onto the county road and came up quickly behind a slow-moving van. When it didn’t accelerate, she swerved to pass but had to retreat when she saw headlights. An eighteen-wheel truck blew past, creating a rush of wind sufficient to shake the Tahoe. After it had passed, Tracy swerved into the outside lane, saw no headlights, and stepped on the accelerator again. No sooner had she done so when more headlights appeared around the next turn. She had the pedal to the floor and not much distance between her and the oncoming vehicle. When she’d cleared the van’s hood, Tracy swerved back into her lane, eliciting prolonged honks from both vehicles.

She passed two additional cars before reaching the exit for Pine Flat. Dan provided final directions to an A-frame split-log building. She braked, the Tahoe skidding to a stop in a dirt-and-gravel parking lot. Jumping out, she left the engine running. A man and a woman burst out the front door of the clinic as Tracy opened the tailgate. Dan slid out carrying a bloodied Rex, rushing him up the steps into the building.

When Dan went inside Tracy shut off the engine. Though the weather had turned bitterly cold and she was underdressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, she remained too amped to sit, too angry to do nothing. She used one of the towels Dan had been using to stanch Rex’s wounds and wiped up the blood in the back of the Tahoe before closing the tailgate. She paced the dirt and gravel and made another call. The dispatcher at the Sheriff’s Office said that Roy Calloway was not in, but a unit had responded to the shooting at Dan’s home.

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