Dance of the Bones

Doorbell? Are you kidding? What the hell was the man -thinking?

BOZO LAY ON HIS BED while Brandon paced the patio, waiting and worrying. When Amanda Wasser called to report that John Lassiter was out of surgery and in the recovery room, he was relieved to hear the news, but it was all he could do to keep from snarling at her. He hurried Amanda off the phone because he wanted the line open in case Todd Hatcher called.

He already knew there was no way he’d be able to keep his promise to Diana—-no way he’d be able to stay out of it. After all, Lani was his daughter. He didn’t want to trust her fate to a bunch of inexperienced patrol officers who might shoot first and ask questions later. And Brandon knew in his gut that Dan Pardee would be on the same page.

Henry Rojas was Navajo and Border Patrol. If Brandon and Dan could get to Henry, they might be able to talk him down or take him down. The problem was, they had to find him first.

When Todd’s call finally came, Brandon didn’t bother with the niceties.

“Did you find her?”

“Did,” Todd said. “Sorry it took so long, I had to jump through several extra hoops, but the phone seems to be stationary in the 5800 block of a street named Calle de Justicia. Do you know where that is?”

“No idea,” Brandon said, “but I’ll find it.”

“The trouble is,” Todd continued, “I have the block number but not the actual address.”

“Don’t worry,” Brandon said. “If my daughter’s there, I’ll find her. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

Brandon was already heading for the garage when he thought better of it. Turning around, he sprinted back into the house. In the laundry room, he pawed through the collection of bathing suits that stayed there year round. It took a moment to find the tiny thonglike thing that passed for Lani’s bathing suit.

Diana was right. Going there by himself was dangerous. Going there without backup was even worse, but it turned out Brandon had just realized he did have backup—-backup guaranteed to arrive on the scene at the same time he did.

Bozo was on his bed, eyes closed. “Hey, Bozo,” Brandon said. “Do you want to go to work?”

The dog’s transformation was instantaneous. One moment he was dozing on his posh heated bed. The next moment the dog was on his feet at full attention, looking quizzically at Brandon as if making sure he had heard right. When Brandon nodded, the dog sprinted for the garage and the Escalade with no sign of the aging animal’s game shoulder or crippling limp. Brandon Walker had said the magic go--to--work words, and Bozo was already locked, loaded, and back on the job.

As Brandon fumbled with the GPS, keying in the address, Bozo sat in the backseat, panting over Brandon’s shoulder. Once they were under way, Brandon hooked up his Bluetooth and dialed Dan.

“Someone has just located Lani’s phone. It’s currently pinging in the 5800 block of a street called Calle de Justicia.”

“Calle de Justicia?” Dan repeated. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s not far off I--10 at Craycroft.”

“Have you called the cops?”

“Not yet. I’m going there now to check it out visually. It may be the phone’s there and Lani isn’t. The GPS says it’ll take us twenty--eight minutes.”

“Who’s us?” Dan asked.

“I invited Bozo to come along for the ride—-for backup.”

“Good call,” Dan said. “I’ve got Hulk with me, too. But don’t do anything stupid, Brandon. If you don’t call the cops, I will. If anything were to happen to you, Diana would kill me.”

His voice came to a strangled halt, and Brandon heard the silent words Dan Pardee couldn’t utter. “And so will Lani.”