Laura asked, “Why Dark Moondancer?”
“Why? Because it’s more than a game, that’s why. Dark Moondancer transcends fantasy. To get to the highest level and become Dark Moondancer, you have to make it real. Things you would never dream of doing in your regular life—you’ll do if you want to win. This game isn’t for the faint of heart.
“The problem with Mickey here, and Jay—they always pulled their punches. They had no
Across the empty lot east of the warehouse, Laura saw cars crawling along a road that paralleled the railroad tracks, the last rays of the sun flaring off their back windows. Too far away to signal. She traced their movement with her eyes, though, watching them turn and go out of view, becoming swallowed by the rise of land and the creosote. One of them was a brown Caprice, the kind Buddy Holland drove. Now she wished she’d brought Buddy with her.
She said to Jay, “After all these years, you’re still playing this game?”
“It’s not
“Do you still play it, Mickey?” she asked.
Mickey grunted something intelligible. Scared to say anything in front of Mike Galaz?
“Did Jay?”
Galaz said, “Jay was nothing but a rich crip who outlived his usefulness. Although he
“Did he have anything to do with Julie’s murder?”
“You saw the note.”
“The one you wrote and planted?”
He smiled. “You think the three of us did it? That’s what you think? Jay, Mickey and me?”
Even through her pain, Laura was amazed at her own curiosity. She wanted to know how long Galaz had been killing. She wanted to know if Jay had helped him kill Julie Marr.
She
Galaz sensed that need and abruptly changed the subject. “You’re not so different, you and the pedophile. There are a lot of things I can take, Laura, but being patronized is not one of them. I don’t take that from anyone.”
What was he talking about? “Patronize you?”
“Come on, Laura. Don’t play that game.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what you think I did.” In her mind she reviewed her actions of the last few months. She had always been polite, always did as she was told, was very careful in fact because she didn’t know him well. She’d gone out of her way to stay under the radar, to do what he wanted, even going outside the department and working with Jay Ramsey because he asked her to. She had done everything—except show up at his party.
He couldn’t be that petty, could he? Why would the fact that she didn’t show up to his parties make a difference to him either way?
Galaz glanced at his watch. “Times a wasting. Mickey, you’re going to have to do the honors.”
Mickey Harmon got out and opened the passenger door.
“Better take the cuffs off. That would look bad if anyone driving by looked too hard. Laura, can you walk under your own steam?”
“I don’t know.”
“Get her on her feet and see.”
At 22nd and Park, Buddy Holland got caught at the light. By the time he made the turn onto Park, both the Suburban and the 4Runner were gone.
He put on the afterburners, gunning it up to eighty to catch the cars ahead, but none of them were the vehicles he was looking for. Galaz must have turned off somewhere in between. He backtracked and found himself cruising through the warehouse district, his instincts telling him they were here somewhere. But where?
The sun was going down and it was getting harder to see. He scanned the roads, empty except for big trucks and semis parked for the night, the blank-windowed factories and warehouses. Then he saw something out of place—a small white car tucked in between two trucks.
A white GEO Prizm crammed to the ceiling with junk.
He drove down the road and pulled in behind an empty office building to think.
Buddy didn’t know what kind of connection there could be between Dale Lundy and the meeting between Laura Cardinal and Lieutenant Galaz. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. And now, here was this amazing coincidence. A ’94 GEO Prizm parked between two trucks.
He got out of the car and slipped behind the empty building. He walked to the next block, cutting back between two warehouses, following an internal alley. He emerged fifty feet or so from the car.
Getting darker by the minute.
He drew his weapon, using the back end of a big tractor trailer for cover. He went from one truck to another until he was behind the truck parked to the left of the GEO. This gave him a good back view of the GEO, including the driver’s side.
No signs of life. No movement inside that he could see, but with stuff piled that high, it was impossible to see past the back seat. Buddy squinted at the license plate. He didn’t need to call in to get Dale Lundy’s plate number; he knew it by heart.
