In the Clearing by Robert Dugoni Page A

willing to work with a woman. The second asked to be reassigned when his wife complained. Kins had readily accepted her, and for the eight years they had worked together, they’d agreed to a policy of total honesty.
    Back at her desk, still upset, Tracy busied herself going through the Collins file and trying to catch up on all the reports. The neighbors said they all knew the couple had separated, though they didn’t know the reason. No one had ever heard or seen anything to confirm Angela Collins’s accusation of physical or emotional cruelty.
    Nearly two hours later, Tracy turned from her computer when Kins returned. She watched him hang his coat on a hanger and hook it to the top of his cubicle.
    “How was the meeting?” she asked, drawing a glance from Faz.
    Kins shrugged. “You know, same BS. Took a bit long, but Eric’s doing better. He’s got his algebra grade back up to a B.”
    “That’s got to be a relief.”
    “Yeah. Yeah, it is. You got that list of names from the brother? I’ll start making calls.”
    Tracy handed Kins the list without further comment, and he went to work. So did Tracy. She made good progress talking to Tim Collins’s friends and other relatives. Each confirmed, to varying degrees, what Mark Collins had told them—that Angela isolated Tim, seemed to pick unnecessary fights, and could be particularly “difficult” when she didn’t get her way. That, however, was a double-edged sword, since it also confirmed the couple’s relationship could be volatile.
    The emergency room doctor had also returned Kins’s call, and Kins relayed the substance of their conversation. The doctor didn’t specifically remember Angela Collins, but he’d pulled her chart, which confirmed that Angela had minor bruising along the right side of her torso and near her ribs. Angela had told the doctor that her estranged husband had shoved her into the door frame and she fell over a table, but X-rays didn’t reveal any fractures. He’d sent her home and told her to take an anti-inflammatory for the pain. He said he’d never questioned whether or not Angela was telling the truth about how she’d been injured, or if her injuries were consistent with her explanation.
    Early evening, Kins grabbed his suit coat, draping it over his shoulder. “I’m going to hit it. Will has a soccer game.”
    “You don’t want to miss that,” Tracy said.
    “Shannah will have my head.”
    “Before you go, there’s something I need to talk with you about,” Tracy said. “My friend, Jenny Almond—”
    “The one who became sheriff?”
    “Right. She’s asked me to take a look at a 1976 case her father worked.”
    “Cold case?”
    “Not exactly. The facts are complicated. I don’t want to keep you from the soccer game. Just wanted you to know I’m going to ask Nolasco to let me work it, and I wanted to make sure you’re all right with it.”
    “You want my help?”
    She shook her head. “Nolasco would never allow both of us to work it. He may not even allow me to.”
    “He’s been pretty quiet around here with OPA on his ass,” Kins said. “You want to do it, go for it. Collins isn’t going anywhere fast, and Faz is itching to stay involved.”
    “I just didn’t want you to think I was doing something behind your back.”
    “No worries,” Kins said, departing.
    “Subtle,” Tracy said to herself. “Real subtle.”
    She checked the time on her computer. She’d put off talking to Nolasco about Kimi Kanasket until the end of the shift, because a day not dealing with Nolasco was always better than a day dealing with him. Time, however, had run out. She walked along the outer glass wall to Nolasco’s office, thinking, again, that the man would have a killer view of downtown Seattle and Elliott Bay if he ever opened his blinds. He didn’t.
    Nolasco sat at his desk, head down. Tracy knocked on the open door. “Captain?”
    Nolasco looked annoyed. He always looked annoyed. “Yeah.”
    “Got a