Dark Side of the Moon
J. Carson Black
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 045121725X
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When two newlyweds are murdered in an Arizona campground, Detective Laura Cardinal is enlisted to investigate. Still reeling from a tragedy of her own, and teamed with a partner who's working her last nerve, Laura's already walking an emotional tightrope. What she discovers-a secret of a love gone bad, an underground society, and a high stakes conspiracy-could send her over the edge.
grandfather’s cabin.” Mark looked toward the rafters, as if that would help his memory. “Maybe you’re talking about Camp Aratauk.” “Camp Aratauk?” “A girls’ summer camp used to be up there, probably a half mile north of your place as the crow flies. Until ten years ago.” “It’s not there anymore?” “They went into Chapter 11 after that little girl was kidnapped.” Steve felt a ripple of coldness fan out across his shoulders. He glanced up at the wall behind him and noticed a vent blowing cold
shootings, yes, plenty of them. But nothing like this. “If there were others, it could point to that,” Laura said. “We don’t have enough information at this point to know. You’re aware that agencies only report to VICAP if they’re in the network—and a lot of the smaller agencies aren’t.” “We just got on ourselves last year.” Laura said, “The kind of person who’d walk around a tent shooting inside without looking to see if his victims are dead doesn’t fit with the cunning it would take to cover
as if it predated the cantina, scrap wood hammered together to create an enclosed area where the corralled bartender served drinks on a low counter lined with bar stools. Rusty signs were nailed to the old wooden bar, advertising products like Phillip Morris cigarettes and Barq’s soda. Old picnic tables were scattered around the clearing. Laura chose one closest to a copse of mesquite trees. Other than a middle-aged couple absorbed in each other, Laura was the only patron here. Mina, five feet
three stickers on her side of the windshield, 1, 8, and 15—no doubt they carried some deep mystical meaning—Laura avoided looking at Richie. She didn’t have to. Self-congratulation rolled off him like the Canoe cologne her first boyfriend wore for the high school dance. They followed the road back through the mouse-hole tunnel under the railroad tracks, then over the freeway into Williams, where the road split into two one-way streets: Railroad Avenue going west and, one block over, old US Route
it was more than that. The minute someone left a house for good, you could tell. It was like the house itself had given up. He had left a few things behind—a ratty old couch, a bed and bedside table, some mismatched kitchen chairs. And, surprisingly, a brand new wide-screen TV and combination DVD/VCR player. Worth at least two grand combined. Who in his right mind would leave something like that? But even if Richie didn’t know the circumstances, didn’t know what Bobby Burdette was planning, he