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

“I see. So why are you in Barton Falls on Halloween?”

“Sightseeing.”

“Not much sightseeing in these parts,” Presley said, shifting forward in her chair.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Hmm. You like trains, Mr. Dean?”

“They’re okay, but I prefer to fly.”

Thomas caught the drug reference. Presley scowled.

“The Barton Falls train yards haven’t been active in three decades. What’s your interest there?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Do you sell drugs beside the tracks?”

“Never sold drugs. You got a witness who claims I do?”

Presley opened the folder. The detective slid two pictures in front of Dean, both of Derek Jordan stabbed and lying dead in the train yards.

Dean flinched and said, “I didn’t do this. Why are you showing me some dead kid?”

“At approximately three-ten this afternoon, you and two men attacked a teenager outside the park. You placed a knife against the boy’s throat and threatened you’d kill him like you did Derek Jordan, the boy in this picture.”

The gangster blanched.

“The kid is lying. I didn’t kill Derek Jordan.”

“We have an eyewitness account of a sedan matching your vehicle’s description cruising past the train yards moments before Derek Jordan died.”

“Bullshit. I was in Harmon last night.”

Thomas didn’t like Presley’s technique. She went for the jugular too quickly, instead of easing Dean into the conversation and tripping him up. Still, the detective’s line of questioning confirmed for Thomas that Dean hadn’t killed Derek Jordan. The pictures horrified the gangster, and Dean didn’t display classic signs he was lying.

The questions continued for another ten minutes until a frustrated Presley signaled Officer Stanton to take Dean away. They’d arrested the gang leader for assault, and he’d do time regardless of the murder charge.

Thomas leaned toward Presley after the door closed.

“You have a witness placing Dean in the park during the attack?”

Presley chewed the corner of her lip.

“Not exactly.”

“So you bluffed.”

“And he didn’t bite.” Presley exhaled and massaged her temples. “I don’t think I can make a murder charge stick.”

“Because he didn’t do it.”

“Why are you convinced he’s innocent?”

Thomas skimmed through Presley’s case notes.

“You have his car, right?”

“We do.”

“Did you check his tires?”

Presley snapped her fingers and pointed at Thomas, thanking him for the reminder. He followed her to the parking lot.

But when they examined Dean’s vehicle, Presley’s shoulders dropped. Dean drove on four all-season radials, and the treads didn’t match the casts taken at the murder scene.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

October 31st

6:15 p.m.

Clouds thickened and made dusk seem like midnight. In the parking lot outside the Kane Grove bus terminal, Raven and Darren took one space in the Rogue. Chelsey and LeVar took the next space in the Civic. They kept the windows down so they could talk. Their heaters worked overtime to fight back the chill.

Inside the terminal, bright lights shone from the ticket booth. A mustached clerk with wispy brown hair, glasses, and a skinny frame appeared bored as he sat behind the counter. A woman sprawled across two open seats in the waiting area with her head resting on a man’s thigh.

“You ready?” Chelsey asked through the window.

“Let me handle this,” Raven answered, taking a composing breath.

“I don’t mind.”

“I’ve got this. Hand me the photo of Benson.”

LeVar removed Benson’s photograph from a folder and gave it to Chelsey, who handed the picture to Raven through the open windows. The wind caught the photograph and almost ripped it out of their hands before Raven secured it.

“We’re assuming a lot,” Chelsey said. “Scout sent us bus schedules, but how do we know Benson is trying to get to Mexico? Or that he isn’t leaving from Harmon, Syracuse, or some other city?”

“He feels comfortable here,” Raven said, tilting her head at the abandoned Benson’s Barbells gymnasium at the end of the block. “And with the police closing in on him, he needs to escape the country.”

With a nod, Raven raised her window and killed the engine. Chelsey drove out of the lot and circled the block. The plan was for Chelsey and LeVar to park across the road when they returned, so the clerk didn’t suspect their scam. Darren stepped out of the Rogue beside Raven.

“We’re breaking at least two laws,” he grumbled, tucking his shoulders and lowering his head against the cold. “You know that, right?”

Raven winked.

“Don’t worry. They won’t take away your ranger’s position.”

Welcome heat blasted their faces when Raven opened the glass door. To their left, a wooden rack held travel brochures. A pay phone that didn’t appear as if anyone had used it in decades hung on the wall.

The clerk glanced up and set his paperback aside. Darren held Raven’s eyes until she nodded she was ready. Plexiglass divided the clerk from guests. There was no hole to talk through, only a speaker cut into the glass. When Raven and Darren approached, the clerk swiveled his chair and clicked his microphone on.

“May I help you?”

“Yes,” Raven said, glancing worriedly around the waiting area. She laid out the photograph of Benson. “My husband’s uncle may have purchased a bus ticket to Texas for tomorrow morning. Is there any way you can look up his ticket information and tell us when he’s leaving?”

The clerk shook his head.

“I can’t disclose customer information. We protect the privacy of our passengers.”

Raven glanced at Darren, then back to the clerk.

“This is a medical emergency, sir. You see, my husband’s uncle overdosed on muscle relaxant this afternoon and escaped the house. The poor man has motor neuron disease, and the muscle relaxants cause confusion and memory loss.”

“I’m sorry, but even if he was here, it’s against company policy to give out customer information. You should contact the police.”

“Even if he just stopped in to check the schedule, but didn’t purchase a ticket, we need to know which terminals he visited.”

“My apologies. I couldn’t tell you without risking my job.”

Shutting them down, the clerk turned from the window and fiddled with his computer. Raven refused to give up. She tapped her knuckles against the glass. The clerk issued an audible sigh.

“Sir, if you please, Uncle Mark’s wife