Last Dance, Last Chance

names of some individuals in this book have been changed. Such names are indicated by an asterisk (*) the first time each appears in the narrative.
    An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS
     
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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    Copyright © 2003 by Ann Rule
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    ISBN-13: 978-0-7434-2406-6
ISBN-10: 0-7434-2406-9
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For my grandchildren: Rebecca, Matthew,
    Olivia, Tyra, and Cooper

Acknowledgments
    Many thanks to the people who lived Last Dance, Last Chance and were kind enough to revisit some tragic years in western New York with me: Debbie, Ralph and Lauren Pignataro, Caroline Rago, Denis Scinta, Shelly Palombaro, and Rose Gardner; Sarah Smith’s family: Dan Smith, Sandy Smith, Barb Grafton, and Russell Grafton; Erie County, N.Y., District Attorney Frank Clark and his staff: Frank A. Sedita III, Carol Giarizzo Bridge, Charles Craven, and Sharon McVeigh-Simon.
    To the dozen detectives who solved the other cases in this Volume Eight of my Crime Files. Many of them have retired, but I remember the following investigators and salute them for their brilliant and dogged work: Lt. Austin Seth; Sergeant Ivan Beeson; Benny De Palmo; Ted Fonis; Wayne Dorman, Seattle Police Department Homicide Unit; Sheriff Harold Sumpter; Grays Harbor County Detective Ted Forester, King County Police Department; George Ishii, Western Washington Crime Lab, and Dr. Donald Reay, King County Medical Examiner. Special thanks to K. Casey and Pat Jacque.
    It takes a lot more than one woman working at a computer to nurture a book from the selection of interesting cases and carry the idea into bookstores. I am ever grateful for my friendly and talented team at Pocket Books: My publisher, Louise Burke; my editor, Mitchell Ivers, and his assistant, Joanna Goddard; Art Director Paolo Pepe; Managing Editor Donna O’Neill; Production Supervisor Stephen Llano; my publicist, Louise Braverman; and my “Legal Eagle,” Felice Javit.
    And I have my own “staff” of friends and family in Seattle who help me with every book. “First Reader” Gerry Brittingham Hay, and Mike Rule, Leslie Rule Wagner, and Andy Rule, who help with everything from my newsletter to getting a manuscript to the airport.
    Three decades later, my original—and only—literary agents, Joan and Joe Foley, are still with me and I appreciate them more every year. My theatrical agent, Ron Bernstein, is responsible for getting most of my books on television and actually bringing me to the bright lights of Hollywood now and then!
    More than a year has passed since the Snohomish County Critical Incident Response Team raced to New York City from Washington State to assist New York police officers as they dealt with Post Traumatic Stress after September 11. My admiration for that team—Dave Coleman, Phil Nichols, Joe Beard, and Chuck Wright—knows no bounds.

A Note on Liars
    In a sense, all my stories are about liars. Some of the killers I write about have lied all their lives, and some have lied only to throw their victims off balance so that they became vulnerable. Once a lie is successful in giving the murderer what he or she wants, it grows and multiplies, burnished and perfected until it works every time. It’s a sad irony that the more honest a potential victim is, the more innocent, the more likely such a person is to become prey. Honest people don’t expect to be lied to, because they wouldn’t lie to someone else. That doesn’t matter at all to dedicated liars. They only smile.
    “Last Dance, Last Chance” is about a world-class liar, if there is such a thing. “The Accountant,” “The Killer Who Begged to Die,” “The Beach,” and “The Desperate Hours” are all about repeat offenders whose ability to twist the truth made them as believable as preachers in the pulpit—and as evil as the dark forces any minister decries.
    All their crimes were examples of conscienceless cruelty. Perhaps more shocking is the fact that they were so often forgiven and were offered so many chances to start over. In the end, each reverted to type; they were as dangerous as a rabid lion in the street.

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