CHAPTER TEN

With the insight from their visit with Victoria, Ghost and Trak decided to make a visit to Tacoma, Washington, and find Mr. Bingham. It wasn't hard.

Close to Seattle, the port city offered something for everyone. Water, mountains, hiking, clean air, and so much more. Chip Bingham owned a distribution center that handled goods coming from Asia. The massive waterfront warehouse was buzzing with activity with two ships in port.

"Can I help you folks?" asked a man.

"We're here to speak with Mr. Bingham," said Ghost. The man looked around then pointed to a man in a red flannel jacket.

"That's him, but just warning you, he's not in a good mood today."

"His daughter?" asked Trak.

"Daughter? Huh. I didn't know he had a daughter. No, it's just been a beast of a day," said the man. He walked off, leaving the two men staring at one another in utter confusion.

"People seriously piss me off," said Ghost. "I'm gonna try to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, but I can't guarantee a damn thing."

There were fine flakes of snow coming off Puget Sound as it mixed with rain and then more flakes. It was beautiful to look at, but neither man wanted to live in this.

"Mr. Bingham? My name is Ghost, and this is Trak. We'd like to speak with you about your daughter."

"My daughter? It seems a bit late to speak with me about her. She's dead," he said coldly.

"We're well aware, sir. We're trying to find her killer," said Ghost, holding back his anger and disdain.

"I thought that colored fella did it?"

"Colored fella?" frowned Trak. "His name is Sterling Moore, and he was released of all charges. He tried to save your daughter."

"Huh. Well, I guess he didn't do it. Hey! Put those near pier forty and move it! We've got a deadline," he yelled. Ghost pursed his lips, watching as Trak fisted his hands at his sides.

"Mr. Bingham, you don't seem bothered at all that your daughter was beaten, raped, and murdered. I'm trying to figure out how a man gets so cold when it's his own daughter we're talking about."

Bingham turned slowly, staring at the two men. He set the tablet that was in his hand down and nodded.

"I can see where my behavior might seem cold to you. Tracy's mom and I got married when she got pregnant. I wanted to do the right thing. I was working two jobs, trying to build this business up, so I was gone a lot. Came home one day to find Tracy in her bed, wet, hungry, and crying. Her mother had gone out .

"When I finally found her, she was with two men. I beat the hell out of the men, and I'm ashamed to say it, but I slapped the hell out of my wife. I was pissed," he said, shaking his head. "I went home, a neighbor was watching Tracy for me, and I knew that I was a single father. I worked a lot. Probably too much.

"Tracy and me, we were like ships passing in the night. Thank God she was a good kid. Got herself up in the mornings, off to school, did her homework, all of it. When she picked a college so far away, I saw that as a sign that she wanted to get away from me. She would call once a month or send an e-mail or text, but that was all.

"I know you won't understand this, but I did love my daughter. We just weren't as close as we should have been. I own that. It's my fault. I've grieved for my daughter in my own way. That's all I can tell you."

The two men nodded at him. They didn't understand him, but then again, they didn't have to.

"Did your daughter ever express any concerns about her surroundings? Maybe someone was following her, harassing her in some way," asked Trak.

"Nothing. She seemed happy. She didn't date at all that I know of. She was focused on school, and that's it."

"Her mother?" asked Ghost.

"I couldn't tell you. She left after that night, and I never saw her again. She never called, wrote, sent gifts, nothing. I tried to be mother and father for Tracy, but you can't be both parents and provider and protector." Trak took a step toward the man, looking down at his rough face.

"You could have tried. That's all she would have wanted." He turned, leaving Ghost to finish with the man.

"He's intense," said Bingham.

"He is that. If you think of anything, Mr. Bingham, please call us."

"Sure," he nodded.

"Oh, one more thing. Were you aware that your daughter had a fear of being tied up?"

"No, but it doesn't surprise me. She was tied up in her bed the day I found her. She was so little I didn't think she remembered. Maybe she did."

Back on the chopper with Doug, the two men barely said a word. Doug couldn't stand the silence and called them to the front to take the spare seat and the jump seat.

"Not everyone is like all of you," he said calmly. "Not every man has the fatherly gene, and not every woman has the maternal instinct. God knows we wish they did. It would make our lives much easier. I got the feeling, since I was listening, that he tried to be the father he thought he needed to be. There's no crime in that."

"If he'd been closer, he may have known something was wrong in her world," said Trak.

"Maybe. Or maybe she didn't want him in her world. Maybe it was something completely different."

"Maybe. I just know that girl deserves justice, and I want to get it for her," said Ghost. Trak nodded.

"And we will."