Killer Move

As we walked out of the coffeehouse, someone called out Kevin’s name. We turned together to see Cassandra the ice cream girl coming along the sidewalk.

“Oh my lord,” she said. “What cataclysmic online dating accident brought you two together?”

“Hey, Cass,” Kevin mumbled. In the presence of a Real Live Girl his geekiness trebled in intensity. “What’s up?”

“Well, you know, you know,” she said, pausing to light a cigarette, her hands cupping around it in the process, as if to protect against a strong wind. “Still bathing in the glory of having kicked your ass.”

I presumably had the air of a human question mark. The girl blew out a mouthful of smoke and smiled. I watched the smoke dissipate into the hot air.

“Me and Kevs—or Lord Kevinley of Benjamin’s Estate—lately hang in the same gaming crowd,” she explained. “We were both at a meatspace meet-up last night for some convivial Dark Ages fragging fun. Lady Cassandra of the Eternal Lurid Flame—that would be me—proved far too tight a strategist for this gentleman and his rat-punk accomplices.”

“ ‘Meatspace’?”

She held up her hands to indicate the universe in general. “This hot, smelly place that some do call ‘The Real World’ and in which we are constrained to hang out. At least some of the time.”

Kevin chuckled appreciatively, and I realized he didn’t mind losing at whatever this dumb game was, at least not to this girl—and that her presence in the much-maligned Real World probably had a lot to do with him playing the game in the first place.

“Gotta head,” Cassandra said. “Kevs, see you in the chatterverse, stat. Mr. Moore, I’ll be dishing the frozen cow squirt later, should you wish to drop by.”

Kevin and I watched her go, like a cool breeze departed, and then got into my baking car.

I dropped him back at the main Shore premises up at Ocean View, then drove thoughtfully back down to The Breakers. As I parked I saw that Karren was sitting at a table outside the deli. She glanced at me when I got out of the car, and then back down at her hands.

I walked over. “You okay?”

“Kind of. The police are on their way.”

“Why?”

“They think David Warner might be dead.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They arrived twenty minutes later. I was still sitting with Karren, whose take on the situation boiled down to: it wasn’t like we’d really known the guy, but, you know, wow, freaky shit. My own take was more complicated. So complicated, in fact, that I was glad to have Karren’s to listen to instead. The police car finally came around the loop and parked in front of our office. Deputy Hallam got out the driver’s side, Sheriff Barclay the other. I’d often thought, somewhat dismissively, that if you wanted to cast a typical good old boy sheriff, Barclay would be perfect. Over six feet tall, big hands, broad shouldered, that gut. As he walked over toward our table, however, he didn’t look like someone you should dismiss in any way at all.

“Morning, Mr. Moore. And you’re Karren White?”

We agreed that was who we were.

“You want to take this into your office?”

I shook my head. “Here’s good.” I didn’t want to be taken inside. It would have felt as if I had something to hide from general view.

Barclay gestured at Hallam, who pulled over a couple of chairs. “You know why we’re here?”

“Karren told me. So . . . what’s happened, exactly?”

“We knew that, we wouldn’t be here. Or we’d be here differently.”

Karren spoke sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” the sheriff said. “I don’t think either of you has anything at all to do with David Warner’s disappearance. I mean, from what Ms. White told me, you were hoping to sell his house.”

“That’s correct,” I said.

“Right now we’re not sure what happened, or when. Two hours ago we entered the Warner property. We discovered evidence that he may have been abducted, and could also have been either injured or even killed.”

“ ‘Evidence’?”

“The digital record from his security system has been removed. CSI found traces of blood in the kitchen, and something that looks like a bullet impact site. An initial workup says the blood is likely Warner’s, but until we get confirmation, we’re freewheeling. My deputy and I are trying to fill some gaps in the meantime.”

“Okay,” I said. “Deputy Hallam was pretty thorough this morning, though. I don’t know if there’s anything I can add.”

Karren turned to look at me. “I got a visit before I came into work,” I told her, trying to make it sound on a level with a visit from the pool cleaner. “I didn’t mention it because . . . well, the guy had been missing less than a day.”

She nodded, but I could see her thinking: Maybe so—but nonetheless, you brought Warner up the minute I walked into the office. Which is odd, right?

She looked at her watch. “I just realized I have an appointment,” she said to Barclay. “Okay if I head back to the office, make a call to postpone it?”