Thread of Truth, стр. 15
I never believed anything was textbook after Elizabeth's disappearance. I couldn't recall how many times I'd heard that hers was a textbook abduction and that finding her was an impossibility. Each day, I woke up grateful that I'd been pig-headed enough to ignore those voices.
But I wasn't going to argue with Carr, either.
“Okay,” I said. “Any details on the car?”
He shook his head. “Nothing yet. We're working the bike, looking for paint or anything that gives us a head start. Like I said, we're working the cameras, too, to see if anything shakes out there.”
“Off the record?”
Carr hesitated before giving me a slow nod.
“What's the probability that you find the car and driver?” I asked.
He grunted. “On the record, we'll keep working until we find who did it. Off the record?” He shook his head. “It'll only happen if we get lucky. Maybe there's something on a camera or maybe someone saw something. It'll take months to identify cars on the closest road cameras and then interview them. We'll do that, but it won't be quick. But would I bet on us finding the driver?” He shook his head again. “No, I would not. It's a semi-remote area, at least in terms of constant eyes. It's an area that people drive regularly and tend not to notice the details around them. The businesses aren't close enough to the location. The kid was there for a while, which tells me no one was even close to that spot for any reason.” He paused. “Off the record, I would not bet on it.”
That was what I thought he was going to say, but I just wanted to hear the words from him.
“So it stays on the books as an unsolved homicide,” I said.
He nodded. “Unless we get lucky. I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. Our lab people are good. If there's anything there, they'll find it. I'm just not sold that there's anything for them to find.” Then he lifted his left hand above his head and his right hand just above his lap. “And I got a case load this big that just keeps growing. We can't just lock onto one particular case.” He let his hands fall back in his lap. “But you know that. You were a cop.”
I knew it, but it didn't mean I liked it. “Sure.”
He glanced at his watch. “And I need to get back to that pile.” He stood up. “I don't mean to cut you off but I don't think I have more to give you.”
“One more thing,” I said, standing up, so he didn't think I was going to hold him up. “His parents said he was a really great rider. Took some safety course, really took the time to learn the route when he knew he'd be riding it almost every day. All of that to say that he probably would've been aware of his surroundings. Would that have made any difference?”
Carr shook his head. “Not unless he was riding that bike backwards. Not much you can do if a bigger, faster vehicle runs up your back. By the time you know it's there, it's too late. It's got you. So I don't care how careful the kid was. It's not the kind of thing you can steer clear of.”
I knew Carr knew his business, but it bothered me that he was so quick to write the whole thing off. I didn't know what had happened on that road, but I thought it was wise to at least consider the other options, whatever those were.
“How fast was the car going?” I asked. “When it hit him.”
Carr glanced at his watch again. “Our analysis says over the limit.”
“By how much?”
He pursed his lips for a moment. “About twenty miles an hour.”
“Speed limit's fifty,” I said. “So you put the vehicle at about seventy?”
He shrugged. “People haul ass on that road.”
“So you don't consider that excessive?” I asked.
Ed Carr glanced at his watch again. “If we'd put it at ninety, I would've considered that excessive, but the kid would've been much further down into the canyon.” He shook his head. “I'm telling you. Just a bad accident, the kind that happens all the time.”
THIRTEEN
A familiar face greeted me in the parking lot, halfway to my car.
“Mr. Tyler,” Detective Swanson said. “This is a surprise.”
“Joe,” I said. “And is it?”
She had on a gray track jacket, jeans, and running shoes. Her jet-black hair was pulled back tightly but a stray strand had blown loose, a strand that was now teasing her cheek. “Well, you don't work here.”
“True enough,” I said. I glanced back at the building I’d just exited. “I'm just following up on yesterday.”
She nodded. “How's the family?”
“The Lockers? Pretty shaken up,” I told her. “Not sure what to do now.”
“That's normal,” she said. “Hard news to take.”
“For sure.” I wasn’t sure if we were going to stand around and make small talk or if there was something else going on.
“So, yesterday.” She had a backpack slung over her shoulder and she adjusted the strap. “I think I was a little out of line. I'm sorry.”
“I don't understand.”
“About your daughter and your wife,” she said. “I just sort of threw it out there and I shouldn't have done that. It bothered me all night. I'm sorry for being awkward and rude.”
“I didn't take anything you said as either, but thanks,” I said.
She hesitated before continuing. “I read a lot about your daughter's case,” she said. “Probably everything that was out there. And the aftermath, though there wasn't much on that. I was just sort of shocked