Practice to Deceive

comes to shove, I have a bomb that will devastate the family . . .”
    What did she mean?
    * * *
    B OTH BRENNA AND FRAN could account for their whereabouts on the afternoon of December 26. And their stories checked out.
    But someone had shot Russ during that time. So far, Detectives Mark Plumberg and Mike Birchfield were as puzzled about the actual killer as they were when they first walked up to the yellow Tracker in the woods.
    They had to spread their net wider and find more people who might have been involved with the dead man. The worst possible outcome of their probe would be that this was a stranger-to-stranger murder, the cold act of someone who had no connection at all to Russel Douglas, someone who simply wanted to feel what it was like to kill someone.
    And that is the kind of homicide that frightens everyone who lives in the area of the crime, and makes people lock their doors and cars when they usually don’t.
    Wherever shocking crimes happen, television news crews invariably film footage of residents who seem to read from the same script. As the interviewees face the camera, they shake their heads and say, “Something like this just doesn’t happen here. We can’t understand why Russ was murdered. I guess it happens in a big city or a bad neighborhood—but not here .”
    But, of course, it does happen there.
    And it invariably shakes bystanders hard. With the first news bulletin, they have to acknowledge their own mortality. And, yes, wonder if they might be next.
    When the killer isn’t caught, they grow more afraid as time passes.

PART THREE
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The Investigation

C HAPTER S EVEN
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    O NE OF THE MAIN questions that needed to be answered was how Russ Douglas had ended up on Wahl Road, an area where no one had ever known him to be.
    The investigating team studied the placement of homes along Wahl Road. Diane Bailey, the only witness who had seen the yellow Tracker and its driver before he was shot, lived just west of a rather impressive residence closer to Admiralty Way. The place had stone pillars and a heavy gate across its driveway. As the detectives walked farther west, they passed the Baileys’ driveway, another narrow road leading in, and finally the dirt road where Douglas’s body was discovered.
    Interestingly, there was another expensive-looking home on the other end of the street where Wahl Road turned into Ebb Tide. It was almost a mirror image of the first estate; it, too, had stone pillars and fortresslike iron gates. It was difficult to see the large house beyond because of an overgrowth of landscaping. It was right next door to the property where Russ was found dead.
    If Douglas was unfamiliar with the Double Bluff region and had been summoned or directed to “a long driveway next to a large estate with stone pillars and heavy gates,” he might very well have first turned into Diane Bailey’s driveway in error. Fir trees hid almost all of the homes on the street, so giving the color of the house or any other defining characteristic would have been useless. The person giving directions would have been much more likely to describe the fenced-off estates with impressive landscaping as landmarks for him to watch for.
    The victim must have realized he was in the wrong place and quickly backed out when he saw the Baileys’ red Volvo. He had to pass only two more lots to get to 6665 Wahl Road. And just beyond was the entrance to the next lavish grounds.
    So far, Mark Plumberg and Mike Birchfield had only tenuous leads to follow, many of which would turn out to be gossip or from someone with an active imagination. They hoped that they might find some links that would hook with other links if they meshed. They talked with present and former residents west of the Blacks’ land. They figured that they might find someone who had a connection to the second estate—someone who had included it in the directions given to Russ Douglas.
    But first they had to search the Chevy Tracker thoroughly. They went to the Armory, where it had been stored awaiting Washington State Patrol criminalists who would process it for prints, blood, and any other human secretions.
    Russel Douglas had traveled a lot for his job with Tetra Tech, and his car looked as though he had practically lived in it. It was a hot mess. Apparently, he had just dropped things on the floor rather than keeping a litter bag handy. There were many papers, slips, and receipts inside, along with fast food wrappers and paper cups,