Dance of the Bones

“Hold still,” Ava said calmly. “Let me cut you loose.”


As soon as the woman quieted, Ava slapped the tape across her face. Then she stood up without noticing that, in the process of her covering the writhing woman’s mouth, Ava’s prized olla had somehow spilled out of her pocket.

She straightened up and stood for a few moments considering what to do next. She’d have to decide on a permanent solution for the captive woman eventually. She couldn’t very well shoot her right here in the garage. There wasn’t as much soundproofing here as in the house. But for now, at least, there would be no screaming for help. Ava definitely couldn’t tolerate any screaming—-not now and not tonight.





CHAPTER 27




EVEN TO THIS DAY, NAWOJ, if you go to that water hole, you will hear Shining Falls singing. The sound of her voice is so soft and sweet that, if you listen to it long enough, you may fall asleep. Sometimes, even the White--Winged Doves who are always there at the water hole fall asleep, too.

AVA UNDERSTOOD THAT PANIC WAS her enemy. She had put a good deal of time and effort into making sure none of her DNA would be found in the house. She had planned on one final scrubdown of the things she knew she’d touched after the cleaning—-her wineglass, Henry’s shot glass, the doorknob to the back door. That was why she had sat so still, waiting for him. She hadn’t wanted to risk leaving behind any trace evidence, but in her rush to retrieve the car keys and move the car, she’d handled Henry’s body without first putting on a pair of latex gloves. She understood that these days it was possible to lift fingerprints and DNA from a victim’s clothing. Time and the elements had worked their evidence--destroying magic on the bodies of Amos Warren and Kenny Mangum, but this time she wouldn’t have that luxury.

She paused for several long moments in the living room, staring at Henry’s still body and worrying, then she did the only thing that made sense. She stripped off all Jane Dobson’s clothing, donned a pair of latex gloves, and went to work, removing Henry’s bloodied shirt, pants, and underwear and sticking them in a garbage bag. Henry would stay here when she finished; his clothes would be going somewhere else.

BRANDON DIDN’T EXACTLY FOLLOW HIS own advice. He disregarded every speed limit sign he saw. Luckily, he didn’t get caught. Twenty--three minutes after leaving Gates Pass he arrived on Calle de Justicia. The houses all had two--car attached garages. A few had an extra car or two parked either in the driveway or out on the street. None of the visible vehicles were Lani’s bright red Fusion.

Brandon redialed Todd Hatcher’s number. “Is the phone still pinging from the same spot?” he asked.

“Hasn’t moved,” Todd replied.

“Good,” Brandon said. “Thanks.”

He went around the block and parked on the next street over, S. Avenida de Aventura. He couldn’t very well go into battle with guns blazing. He already knew that Carlos and Paul José had died in a hail of automatic gunfire. That probably meant that he was severely outgunned from the get--go. He was at a physical disadvantage as well. Henry Rojas was a -couple of decades younger than Brandon Walker and most likely hadn’t had a triple bypass, either. Brandon knew that Bozo could possibly level the playing field some, but he didn’t know by how much.

He fumbled in the glove box and found the leash he kept there. He fastened that to Bozo’s collar, then the two of them scrambled out of the SUV and onto the pavement.