Mason pulled out Tana’s written statement from the Eugene shooting. “You were at the park really early that morning,” he said.

Tana nodded. “When I’ve got three kids who can’t sit still, getting in the car and going anywhere keeps me sane. They were all waking up at five A.M. during that month. I’m glad that’s over. This month they’ve been sleeping in until seven. Well, at least two of them have been.” She eyed the oldest, Ellie, who Mason estimated was close to four years old. “I know every park in the area and Green Lake is a good one. It’s got a huge sand area and even a clean water feature. It’s usually our first choice.” Her gaze dropped. “At least it used to be. We haven’t gone back since it happened.” She ran a hand over Ellie’s dark curls. “I don’t think the twins will remember, but Ellie sometimes talks about that day. I won’t go back because I’m afraid it will reinforce her memories. I want her to forget.” She gave Mason a weak smile. “Maybe next summer.”

He met Ellie’s gaze. Kids were sponges. How much did she still remember? Anger rolled through him at the thought of her terror. “Umm . . . maybe . . .”

“Ellie, weren’t you watching Elmo?” Tana asked.

The child immediately slipped out of the chair and trotted down another hallway. “It’s on in our bedroom,” Tana explained. “When she’s watching she doesn’t hear a word I say. It’s almost scary.”

Elmo had been Jake’s favorite, too.

“Can you tell me what you remember from that day?” Mason scanned her statement as she talked, listening for any changes or inaccuracies. He hadn’t let her review the written statement, wanting her to freshly recall the incident. Her account matched what she’d written almost perfectly.

“You said he’d sat in the car in the parking lot for a while,” Ray stated. “How long would you estimate that time to be?”

Tana looked up at the ceiling, bouncing Cora on her knee as the baby started to squirm. “I remember wondering if he was talking on a cell phone. I couldn’t see one,” she quickly clarified. “But that’s what you expect is happening when someone parks and doesn’t get out. I don’t know the time. Maybe two or three minutes?”

“You were watching the car pretty closely?” Mason asked.

She shrugged. “I have three kids. Do you know what it’s like to have your attention divided into three sections? I don’t have much focus for anything else.” Her gaze narrowed at Mason. “But when you’re a mom, part of your senses are always on the lookout for trouble. I notice when unfamiliar people enter an area where my children are playing. I notice when dogs appear or vehicles arrive. My mind leaps ahead a hundred steps and sees all possible outcomes, and you can be damn sure I take action when I see one of those outcomes start to unfold.”

“So your radar went up with this vehicle?”

“A little bit. I could see movement in the car, like someone was leaning over the backseat, and wondered if the person was getting a kid ready.”

Wiping it down. They’d received word that the only prints on the vehicle had been around the trunk and the rear doors. The entire front seat area had been thoroughly wiped down, along with most of the backseat.

“Then he stepped out with that gun and I saw he’d put on a mask, so I went into action.” Tana closed her eyes. “Cora and Lane were in the sand, two feet from me. I grabbed them and yelled for Ellie, who was over by a slide. She just turned and stared at me, so I ran to her.” Wet brown eyes opened and looked at Mason. “I had a twin on each hip, but I shoved them both into one arm and grabbed her hand and we dashed behind the castle. He was already shooting.”

Mason had studied park pictures that showed the castle, a solid structure that stood about four feet high with an opening for kids to crawl inside and peer out through narrow slits of windows. The castle was about fifty feet from the restrooms. He doubted it would have stopped a bullet.

“The screams . . .” Tana looked away and tears dripped from her cheeks onto Cora’s shoulder. She wiped them off.

Mason leaned forward. “You must have been terrified for your children.”

“You have no idea.”

I have a bit of an idea.

“I want you to think about when the shooting stopped. You said you heard a man yell that the shooter had shot himself. You got a good look at him?”

Tana brushed at her cheeks and swallowed. “I did. I looked around the corner when I heard him shout. The shooting had stopped.”

“What was he wearing?” Mason prodded carefully.

The mother frowned. “Shorts. Tank top. A hat.”

“Like a baseball cap?” Ray asked.

“Yes. I can’t recall the color. Something dark. Dark longer hair, too. Like just touched his shoulders.”

“Was he skinny? Short? Fat?” questioned Ray.

“Tall,” Tana said. “Narrow build. Long arms. He was holding them up as he ran like he was surrendering. I remember being relieved when I saw him because he seemed so assured that the shooter was down.”

“What did he do next?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I turned back to my kids and stayed behind the castle for at least a good minute. I couldn’t move; I was absolutely frozen. All I could do was hang on to my babies. If the shooter had walked around the castle at that minute, we’d all be dead.” She took a shuddering breath. “I was able to react and get them out of the way at the right time. But as soon as I heard it was over, I couldn’t do a thing.”