The Killing Moon by Dan Padavona (books you have to read TXT) 📗

said, I stayed up past midnight.”

Thomas set a memo pad on the desk and clicked a pen.

“Something on your mind that kept you up late?”

Leland’s gaze traveled to the clock, then to the closed door.

“No. Just hanging out online with my friends.”

“How often do you smoke, Leland?”

The boy’s eyes shot to Thomas.

“What?”

“Pot. Come on, Leland. Derek’s parents told us the two of you get high together.”

“What the hell do they know? They don’t pay attention to Derek.”

“This isn’t a drug bust. I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Just tell me the truth. Who sells you the weed?”

Leland set his hands on the desk and stared at his fingernails. They were chewed to the quicks.

“I dunno. I don’t want to snitch over a little pot.”

“Leland,” Presley said, meeting the teenager’s eyes. “We’re concerned Derek got himself involved with the wrong people.”

“No way, not Derek. Sure, we party a couple times a week. But he’s not meeting with dealers. Derek isn’t like that. He just likes to unwind and forget about his home life.”

“So you do the buying?” asked Thomas.

Leland lifted a shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“From who?”

“I only know his first name. Troy. He sells out of Harmon.”

Presley eyed Thomas.

“Troy Dean runs the 315 Royals,” said Thomas. “Does that name ring a bell?”

“No. Should it?”

“If I show you a picture, do you think you’ll recognize Troy?”

“I’ll try.”

Thomas swiped through his camera and found a picture of Troy Dean. He stored the image after the sheriff’s department first suspected Dean of murder in April. Thomas passed the phone to Leland. The teenager bobbed his head.

“Yeah, that’s the guy. Who did you say he was?”

“Troy Dean runs the most powerful gang in Harmon.”

Leland’s mouth fell open.

“The guy’s a gangster? I didn’t…shit, am I in danger?”

“Where do you meet Troy Dean?”

The teenager sat back in his chair.

“Down by the train tracks. He’s always with two other guys. Big guys.”

“And you’re not afraid to buy drugs from them?”

Leland pressed his knuckles against his lips.

“I figured they were bad dudes. But they’ve always been cool to me.”

“Is it possible Derek purchased from Troy Dean last night?”

“No. Like I said, Derek never buys.”

“Maybe he took the railroad tracks on the way home and ran into Troy and his bodyguards.”

Leland’s face paled.

“You’re hiding something from me. What happened to Derek last night?”

Thomas glanced at Presley, who nodded.

“Derek is dead, Leland,” said Thomas. Panic flared in Leland’s eyes. “We found him beside the train tracks. Somebody stabbed him.”

“Bullshit. You’re lying, man. I messaged Derek after midnight. He can’t be dead.”

“I’m sorry, Leland, but it’s true. We identified his body this morning. You say you were playing video games in your bedroom past midnight until you fell asleep. Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts between midnight and two?”

“I told you. My parents were asleep.”

“So nobody.”

Leland stared at Thomas, then at Presley.

“Hold on a second. I didn’t hurt Derek. He’s my best friend.”

“The two of you ever argue? Perhaps Derek got physical, and things got a little out of hand. It happens.”

“I was in my bedroom all freaking night. Do I need a lawyer?”

Presley stepped in, playing the role of good cop.

“Did Derek have any enemies, Leland? Who wanted to hurt your friend?”

Leland glared at Presley as though she’d lost her mind.

“Nobody. Derek is friends with everyone.”

“No problems at school or home.”

“No.” Leland reconsidered after a pause. “He didn’t get along with his stepfather.”

“How so?”

“Cole hit Derek last year because he stayed out past curfew. Derek didn’t take it well. He doesn’t consider Cole his father.”

“What did Derek do?”

“He punched him back. Broke the guy’s nose, so the doctor had to reset it. After that, Cole and Derek stopped talking…not that the relationship was good to begin with.”

“Would Cole harm Derek?”

Leland ruffled his hair and gazed at the closed door.

“Cole’s a creep, but he’s a wuss. He backed down after Derek stood his ground. No way he’d test him again.”

“You mentioned a girlfriend,” Thomas said, clicking his pen. “Valerie Leonard.”

“Valerie, yeah.”

“Does Valerie have a jealous former boyfriend?”

“She hasn’t dated anyone this year, except Derek.”

“What about Valerie’s parents? What do they think of Valerie dating?”

“I doubt she told them about Derek.”

“Why?”

“Because the father doesn’t think anyone is good enough for Valerie.”

Thomas scribbled a note. If the father discovered his daughter was dating a boy with a drug problem, how far would he go to break up the relationship?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

October 31st

1:15 p.m.

“Raven just confirmed Benson visited his old gymnasium in Kane Grove,” Chelsey said, staring at the farmhouse through the binoculars.

LeVar stretched his legs in the passenger seat, barely fitting in the Civic. They parked inside a copse a hundred yards from the farmhouse. A vacant garage stood between the trees and the house, and a weather-beaten shed leaned beside a meadow.

“He’s hitting all his old haunts,” LeVar said, bringing a second set of binoculars to his eyes. “Which means he may have visited the farmhouse on his way into town.”

Chelsey bit her nail. There was something off about the old house. Maybe it was the battleship-gray sky framing the roof, or the preternatural cold shoving the car around as Halloween night loomed. She sensed danger in the shadows and eyes watching them as she waited for the fugitive to return.

Focus on your breathing, she thought to herself. Chelsey’s therapist taught her to breathe when she felt her anxiety heighten, and right now it was rising to the top of the cup and boiling over. She closed her eyes and pictured Wolf Lake, Thomas and Jack beside her, a warm May breeze instead of Halloween’s wrath. The promise of summer ahead of them.

“You all right?”

She blinked her eyes open and found LeVar studying her.

“I am now.” She pushed her palms down her thighs, ironing out her jeans. “You probably think I’m too edgy to be in this line of work. I’m sure you faced more pressure in Harmon.”

He considered her words for a long time. She worried she’d said the wrong thing.

“Fear is healthy. It’ll keep you from getting killed.”

“Right.” The