Contents
By J. Carson Black
Copyright
The Laura Cardinal Novels
Darkness On The Edge Of Town
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
End
Acknowledgements
Dark Side Of The Moon
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
End
Acknowledgements
The Devil's Hour
Dedication
Opening
The Man in the Moon
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Cold Case
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Fly By Night
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
The Dark Ride
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
The Devil's Hour
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
End
Acknowledgements
About the Author
By J. Carson Black
The Laura Cardinal Novels
Darkness On The Edge Of Town
Dark Side of the Moon
The Devil’s Hour
The Shop
Short Stories
Pony Rides
The BlueLight Special
Writing as Margaret Falk
Darkscope
Dark Horse
The Desert Waits
Copyright
Darkness On The Edge Of Town copyright © 2005 by Margaret Falk
Dark Side of the Moon copyright © 2006 by Margaret Falk
The Devil’s Hour copyright © 2007 by Margaret Falk
THE LAURA CARDINAL NOVELS. Copyright © 2011 by Margaret Falk.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or retransmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Published by Breakaway Media
Tucson, Arizona (USA)
www.breakawaymedia.com
120201
THE LAURA CARDINAL NOVELS
J. CARSON BLACK
Laura Cardinal, a detective with the Arizona Department of Public Safety, troubleshoots homicide investigations in small towns where resources are scarce. She lives in a rented adobe house on a guest ranch in the desert. The ghost of her dead partner, Frank Entwistle, appears at the oddest moments—sometimes to help, and sometimes just to tell her how he would do it.
Everybody’s a critic.
DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN, Book 1
“A superb debut…Welcome to a strong new voice in American Crime Fiction”
—T. Jefferson Parker, author of THE BORDER LORDS
Used to be kids played outdoors until time for dinner, now social media’s the new game in town. These days, they play on their smartphones. But with more freedom comes greater danger. Mobile devices and computers are a conduit into a child’s life, not just for friends but for those who intend harm. This is the message of J. Carson Black’s Daphne du Maurier Award-nominated thriller, DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN.
When Laura investigates the murder of a fourteen-year-old girl left in a town’s park band shell, she knows immediately what she’s up against: a cunning sexual predator. But why is she plagued by the abduction of a schoolmate eighteen years earlier?
In a runaway case that propels Laura from a lavish Tucson estate to the secretive heart of a north Florida town, she must confront the ghosts of her own past. Then another child goes missing—and Laura must race the clock to find her.
“A dark, b
rilliantly-plotted police procedural.”
—Midwest Book Review
DARK SIDE OF THE MOON, Book 2
When a young couple on their honeymoon is found shot to death in a campground in Williams, Arizona, the consequences go far beyond a simple murder investigation. As the investigation unfolds, Laura uncovers a chilling portrait of the dark side of love. And when she learns of one victim’s ties to an underground organization called the Earth Warriors, she is plunged into a high-stakes conspiracy played out against the unforgiving backdrop of the Mojave Desert—where there are no second chances.
"Dark Side of the Moon takes you on a perilous descent into a shadowy underworld where light cannot reach, trust can be fatal, and the deepest truth is only another lie. Once again J. Carson Black delivers a harrowing nonstop thrill ride that will eclipse every other suspense novel you read this year!”
—New York Times bestselling author Michael Prescott
“Black never lets up the pace for an instant.”
—SF Site
THE DEVIL’S HOUR, Book 3
“J. Carson Black's THE DEVIL'S HOUR is a superior mystery novel in all respects. Fine prose, terrific suspense, believable characters, and one of the most unexpected and satisfying conclusions I've read in a long time. Highly recommended."
—John Lescroart, New York Times bestselling author of DAMAGE
In 1997, the disappearance of three young girls rocked the city of Tucson, Arizona. Eleven years later, one of those girls—Micaela Brashear—comes home, alive.
Detective Laura Cardinal worked homicide for Arizona DPS, but now she's been moved to the Open-Unsolved Unit. With a new job and a new partner who questions her every move, Laura pieces together Micaela's fragmented memories in the hope she will learn the whereabouts of the other two children.
When a man walking his dog finds the bones of a child in a shallow grave on the mountain above town, it becomes clear to Laura that Micaela was the lucky one.
But the killer isn't through yet, and after the fiery death of someone close to Laura, she realizes she faces an implacable enemy.
DARKNESS
ON THE EDGE
OF TOWN
To the memory of my father:
A stray breeze on a hot day
The sun gentle on my face
1
VAIL, ARIZONA
Francis X. Entwistle showed up in Laura Cardinal’s bedroom at three in the morning, looking world-weary.
“Don’t get up, Lorie. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. A bad one’s coming.”
Frank’s complexion was pale and there were shadows under his eyes. In life, his face had been dull red from the high blood pressure that had killed him. A bottle of Tanqueray gin sat on the window table and the tumbler in Frank’s hand was about a quarter full. Laura didn’t own any tumblers and she didn’t drink gin.
Laura wasn’t entirely surprised that her old mentor was sitting in the straight-backed Mexican chair in her bedroom four months after his wife had buried him. Maybe because she knew she was dreaming. Or maybe because he was her last link to her parents, and she didn’t want him to be gone for good. Frank Entwistle leaned forward, the nightlight from the bathroom illuminating the scroll of white hair above his side part. “You’re gonna have to pay attention and keep on paying attention.”
He stopped to scratch the tip of his nose. Laura Cardinal realized the absurdity of the situation: Sitting in her bed at three in the morning, watching a dead homicide cop scratching his nose.
“I’m talking about the kind of thing, you aren’t careful, could come back around and bite you in the ass. The key word here is vigilance.”
She wanted him to clarify what he meant by that, but he was starting to fade.
He held his glass up in a salute. “Watch your back, kiddo.”
When she caught the case the next day, there was no doubt in Laura’s mind that it was the one Frank Entwistle had alluded to.
It was the weekend, and she was at her little house on the guest ranch where she lived rent-free. The owner, a friend from high school, liked the idea of having a criminal investigator from the Arizona Department of Public Safety living on his property.
The dream about Frank Entwistle remained with her, vivid and unsettling. It didn’t feel like a dream. When she got up this morning, she sleepwalked into the bathroom. In the dim glow of the nightlight, she saw a ring on the table left by a sweating glass. Instantly she was wide awake, her heart rate going through the roof, until she realized the real culprit was Tom Lightfoot. Tom never remembered to use a coaster.
It was Tom who had been on her mind all morning, Tom who had preoccupied her since he left two days ago on a packing trip to New Mexico.
This was because of the note stuck to the refrigerator: “Maybe we should live together - T”
Not “Love, T,” she noticed. The word “love” scared her anyway, so she wouldn’t hold that against him. What she did hold against him was the fact that he had blindsided her, leaving that note on her refrigerator and then creeping out of town. She couldn’t reach him in the back country. She couldn’t say they’d only been together two and a half months, that his house was just over the hill, that just because he spent every night with her anyway, he shouldn’t think he could move in. Living together was a whole different proposition from sleeping together. The last man she had lived with had been her husband, and that had not turned out well.
What bothered Laura most, though, was the part of her that leaped at the thought.
Restless, she went outside to water, the day already hot enough she had to run the hose awhile to avoid scalding the plants. Her mobile rang and she retreated into the shade with the phone.
It was Jerry Grimes, her sergeant. “You busy?”
“What’s up?” Knowing that whatever plans she had for a quiet weekend were about to be blown out of the water.
“Bisbee PD has asked for an assist on a homicide.”
As she listened, Laura forgot about Tom’s note. Frank Entwistle had warned her it would be bad, and it was. A fourteen-year-old girl had been found dead in a small town south of here.
“Mike’s talked to the chief down there, and we all agree,” Jerry said. “You’re the lead investigator on this. So don’t take any shit.”
He always said that, although Laura had never taken any shit yet. She knew the pep talk was just his way of showing support for her, a woman doing a man’s job. But being called in to assist on investigations in other jurisdictions—mostly small towns—Laura knew that petty politics were far more obstructive to an investigation than any effect her gender might have.
“Victor will meet you there as soon as he can. You know where the ADOT yard is this side of the tunnel?” Jerry said. “They’ll have someone from Bisbee PD there to escort you in.”
Fifteen minutes later, Laura turned her 4Runner onto Interstate 10 going east, dread pressing into her throat.
Fourteen years old.
2
Once on the road, Laura punched in the Jerry Grime’s number to get some background. Now she’d have time to absorb what he had to say.
“A girl named Jessica Parris was abducted yesterday from the street near her house. They think that’s where it happened; there weren’t any witnesses.”
“What time yesterday?”
“After school. She didn’t come home for dinner. Place is kind of out in the sticks. According to Bisbee PD, she lives—lived—at the end of West Boulevard.” Jerry paused. He reminded her of an old-time union boss, tough and gruff. This case, though, would get to him; he had three daughters of his own.
Jerry said, “A girl fitting the Parris girl’s description was found this morning in City Park. You know where that is?”
“On Brewery Gulch.”
“That’s right. Tourists went to see the bandshell and got a big surprise.”
She thought of how the tourists must have felt, that sudden drop in the pit of the stomach. “She was in the bandshell?�
�
“Propped up against the back wall. Kind of like a doll on a bed, the woman said. The witness’s name is Slaughter.” He paused to let the irony sink in. “Doris Ann Slaughter. Said the girl was dressed up in some way, I don’t know, like a doll dress." He paused again—this was hard for him. “Victor’s coming from Marana. Should be a half hour behind you.”
Laura signed off and pushed the 4runner up to eighty, mesmerized by her own thoughts as the freeway unraveled before her. She hoped the storm would hold off until she got a look at the crime scene. The day was sunny, but the sky to the south and east was an ominous leaden blue.
The monsoon season had started July 4. They’d had a thunderstorm every day this week—uprooted trees, downed power lines, roofs torn off, the north-south streets of Tucson turned into flooded canals. A whole city held hostage by rain-swollen streets, many of them uncrossable. Ask a man who has been plucked by a helicopter from the roof of his pickup in a Tucson intersection just how quickly nature can trump progress.
This morning, the heat hadn’t yet built up sufficiently to produce the cumulonimbus clouds necessary for a thunderstorm, but Laura could feel the electricity in the air. She stopped at a fast food place in Benson for a breakfast sandwich—fuel—then drove south into the gathering gloom that seemed to press down on the mountains like a weight.
She felt both dread and anticipation. Needing to get there, see it for herself, but knowing that when she did, the image would haunt her for the rest of her life. The sight of the dead girl would be imprinted on her eyeball as if it were caught in the flash from a camera.
It would have plenty of company.
Laura reached the ADOT yard, where the Arizona Department of Transportation kept road machinery, at a little after ten a.m. A Bisbee PD Crown Vic was parked just outside the Mule Pass Tunnel. The officer, female and twenty-something, leaned against the Crown Vic’s door. When she saw Laura’s unmarked 4runner pull in behind her, she walked up to the window. “I have to advise you that you are not allowed to park here.” Her face was peeling from a severe sunburn.
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