Dark Moon Walking (7 page)

He shrugged. “Went to jail. Same cop—his name was Dan—came to court. Told the jury the whole fucking story. Knew a hell of a lot more than I'd told him. Ended up doing three years.”

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally Annie reached out and poured them both another cup of tea.

“So it was the cop you called?”

“Yeah. Crazy, huh? But you know what? He came to see me in jail a few times. Not for more questions, just to see how I was doing. Gave me a couple of names, people to see when I got out.” He gave an odd, twisted smile. “I thought I hated that bastard, but he was the only one came to see me. He was even there the day I got out. Drove me to a shelter and wished me luck!”

Annie nodded. “So you stayed in touch.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I left town. Went back home. Never saw him again till about three months ago. I was over at the floating store and this boat comes in. Nice boat. Wood. Converted fish packer but a real good job. This guy jumps off and comes into the store and it's him. Couldn't believe it at first. It was weird. I didn't know whether to talk to him or not. Hell, it's been eight years now. But he recognized me too. Asked how I was making out. Said he was going to be spending the summer up around here and if I ever felt like it to call him on the radio.” He shrugged.

“So he's coming?”

“Yeah. Guess he's already heading back south. Said he would be here later today.” He looked across at her. “I didn't tell him what's happened. Didn't want anyone listening in.”

Annie thought about that for a moment. “Guess that was smart,” she answered slowly.

Dreamspeaker
entered the bay at midafternoon, slowly nosing past the rocks that marked the entrance. Walker and Annie had been hauling crab traps on the foredeck and they stood and watched as she dropped anchor and backed down on her chain. It wasn't till the anchor was set and the boat was sitting quietly, bow to the wind, that they saw Dan step out on deck.

Annie grunted. “Knows what he's doing,” she said.

Walker smiled. Coming from her, that was a huge compliment. “It would be easier if he came over here,” he said.

She shrugged and turned back to the crab traps. He knew the gesture was the only acknowledgment he was likely to get. He moved down the side deck and beckoned to Dan as he stepped out of the wheelhouse and looked across the water at him. Walker hoped the simple invitation would be accepted. The boats were too far apart to be able to shout a greeting, and he didn't want to use the radio unless it was absolutely necessary.

He needn't have worried. Within minutes
Dreamspeaker
's dinghy was being pulled up to the swim grid that hung off her stern. As he watched Dan row toward Annie's boat, Walker's feelings alternated between a strange kind of dread and an odd excitement, tension humming through him like a plucked guitar string. A brief greeting at a dock was one thing. That had felt strange enough. But reaching out to this man after eight years and inviting him onto Annie's boat was entirely another. Was he crazy? Had he made a mistake? If he had wasted this day, it was Claire who might pay the price.

If Dan had any of the same qualms, he didn't show it, greeting Walker with an easy handshake and the small talk of an old acquaintance. The apprehension and nervousness Walker had been feeling began to disappear, and he soon found himself responding in the same vein. After a few minutes the two men moved into the cabin and sat down.

“Nice boat,” Dan said as he looked around. “This where you live?”

Walker inclined his head toward the bow, where Anne was still busying herself with the traps. “Nope. Belongs to Annie.”

“Huh. So you're just visiting? Where's home these days?”

“Got a place over east of here.”

Dan nodded. “Over east” could mean any one of a couple of hundred islands or several inlets that slashed their way deep into the mountainous shores of British Columbia. With over six thousand islands scattered along its shore, the western coast of the province was renowned for its tiny, far-flung communities and hidden coves, many of which harbored loners or losers or one of the new wave of hippies trying to survive off the land. It was a major headache for administrators and a nightmare for the coast guard and the marine police. “Over east” told him nothing, but he remembered Walker well enough to know that “over east” was the best he was going to get.

“You got the summer off?”

Walker's question caught Dan off-guard. He hadn't really addressed any of the issues that had brought him out here, hadn't given a thought about his own situation. Certainly hadn't talked about it with anyone. Even when he had seen Walker on the dock over there at the floating store and recognized him from years before, he had been operating on auto-pilot. He supposed the shrink the chief had wanted him to see would call it self-denial. He thought it was more likely self-preservation: thinking about what had brought him here meant remembering how he had found Susan that day, remembering how he had ignored the tips he had received, remembering how he had missed the warning signs of stalking. Those memories brought a pain that was simply too much to bear. But here he was, and Walker had obviously assumed he was still on the force, and that demanded some sort of explanation.

“Ahhh, no. Not exactly. I quit the force. Took retirement.”

The words sounded odd to his ears, as if someone else had spoken them, and he realized it was the first time he had said them out loud. Hearing them float across the cabin was disorienting, almost schizophrenic, as if he had somehow stepped out of his body and was looking back at it. He had been a cop for so long, the job had seeped into his soul. It had become his identity. It was who he was—or, at least, who he had been. Who the hell was he now? He suddenly remembered the words of a poem Susan had read to him. What was the name of it? “The Hollow Men,” that was it. By some guy called Eliot. He remembered her voice as she read the last lines to him, something about the world ending not with a bang, but a whimper. She had been whispering, almost, and the words had taken on an eerie quality that twisted in the air between them. Hearing them had given him an odd feeling, but he had laughed it off, teased her for selecting such a dreary piece for her students. Now they seemed like the perfect accompaniment for his life.

He fought down a wave of loss and loneliness and looked across at Walker. For the first time since he handed in his badge, Dan felt a conscious pull of regret—was it regret?—for his decision to quit the force. Another kind of loss. Or maybe it was just the uncomfortable feeling of being asked for help and knowing that he had only himself to offer and no resources to fall back on.

“Why? You in trouble?”

Dan's statement that he had left the police force caught Walker by surprise, and as he watched the play of emotions on Dan's face, he realized he had never thought of him as a man, only as a cop. And he had been a good one, as Walker knew only too well. A good man too, even if their association had been a difficult one. Something had happened that had changed the course of Dan's life. Some kind of loss or trouble.

Trouble. That had been the story of Walker's life the last time they met, but now, as he heard Dan's question, he smiled as he shook his head. “Nope. Not me. But maybe someone else. A friend.”

He felt an odd tingle run through his brain as he said the word. He hadn't called anyone a friend for a long time. Maybe never.

Annie chose that moment to join them. She acknowledged Dan with a brief grunt, ignored his outstretched hand, and slid heavily onto the bench across from him, her eyes fixed on Walker. “You tell him?”

“Not yet.” He turned back to Dan, who was looking quizzically from one to the other. “I thought maybe you might be able to help find her.”

“Her? Huh. Well, I'm certainly willing to do what I can, but it's going to be just me. Like I said, I'm off the force.” He lifted his hands, palms up. “So tell me about it.”

The conversation moved to
Island Girl
and the black ship. Dan listened quietly as Walker told him how he had met Claire and explained what little he knew about what had happened. And it was that quietness, that willingness to listen, that convinced Walker he had done the right thing. Until that moment, he had not been sure. Even so, once he was finished, he waited for the questions that he was sure would come. He was not used to putting so much into words. Spoken out loud his reasoning sounded flimsy, even to his own ears. Surely someone like Dan, trained as a cop to follow fact and logic rather than instinct and hunch, would dismiss it as crazy. The ramblings of a crazy Aboriginal ex-con who spent too much time alone.

He didn't.

“So you think this girl escaped in the kayak?”

Walker nodded.

“Any thoughts on where she might go?”

“I've been thinking about that,” Walker replied. “She might have gone to the other side of the island she's on—Spider Island, it's called on the charts.”

He described the channel and how it filled during spring tides. He and Claire had talked about how easy it made it for her to use her kayak to visit the southern side of the island.

Dan nodded. “Makes sense. Worth a look, anyway.” He checked his watch. “Want to run over there in the dinghy? I can put the motor on and we can be there and back before dark.”

Walker nodded and felt some of the tension drain out of him. For the first time in two days, he felt a small surge of optimism. He pushed himself up from the table and followed Dan toward the door. The sound of an approaching outboard engine stopped him before he got there.

It slowed to an idle, and although he couldn't see the boat, Walker watched and listened as Dan, out on deck, lifted a hand in greeting.

“Hi,” Dan called. “You folks are a long way from anywhere. Help you with something?”

Walker could barely hear the reply, but as the words registered, he felt his body stiffen.

“We came to visit a friend, but she is not on her boat,” said the unfamiliar voice. “It is over in Shoal Bay. We wondered if you might have seen her?” The accent was oddly clipped and the words precise.

Walker started to warn Dan against replying, but Dan's voice stopped him.

“Sorry. Can't help you. Just stopped here for the night on my way back south, but let me check with the captain.” He stepped back into the cabin. “Looks like we are not the only ones looking for the girl,” he said quietly to Walker. “You see enough of anyone at Shoal Bay to be able to recognize either of these two?”

Walker shook his head. “Couldn't see anything. Too dark.”

Dan nodded. “Wait till I'm back outside, then both of you take a good look. They won't be able to see you through the porthole, but you both need to be able to recognize them if you see them again.” He moved back out to the deck.

Walker leaned over the table and peered out at the big inflatable floating just feet away. The two men in it both had their eyes hidden by dark glasses, but he could sense them checking out every inch of Annie's boat. One had long, dark hair and a heavy build. The other was tall and slim with short hair so white it seemed to glow.