Roadside Crosses

his flying horses. . . . He would have to start over like a newbie.”
    “He did that?”
    Jason nodded. “It was, like, way close. He was almost out of life force, but the queen revived. She kissed him. That was, like, epic! And then the elves and us got together and kicked some Northern Force ass. Man, that night rocked. It was epic win. Everybody who plays the game still talks about it.”
    Dance was nodding. “Okay, Jason, thanks. You can log off.”
    “Like, you don’t want to play anymore? You were kind of getting a feel for how to move.”
    “Maybe later.”
    The boy tapped the keys and the game closed.
    Dance glanced at her watch. “Jon, could you take Jason back home? There’s somebody I need to talk to.”
    A to B to X . . .

Chapter 32
    “I’D LIKE TO see Caitlin, please.”
    “You’re . . . ?” asked Virginia Gardner, the mother of the girl who’d survived the June 9 car crash.
    Dance identified herself. “I spoke to your daughter the other day at summer school.”
    “Oh, you’re the policewoman. You arranged for the guard for Cait at the hospital the other day, and out in front of our house.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Have you found Travis?”
    “No, I—”
    “Is he nearby?” the woman asked breathlessly, looking around.
    “No, he’s not. I’d just like to ask your daughter a few more questions.”
    The woman invited Dance into the entryway of the huge contemporary house in Carmel. Dance recalled that Caitlin was headed for some nice undergrad and medical schools. Whatever Dad or Mom did, it seemed they could afford the tuition.
    Dance surveyed the massive living room. There were stark abstracts on the walls—two huge, spiky black-and-yellow paintings and one with bloody redsplotches. She found them troubling to look at. She thought how different this was from the cozy feel of Travis’s and Jason’s house in the DimensionQuest game.
    Yeah, well, we make cool homes in Aetheria ’cause where we live, I mean, in the real world, our places aren’t so nice, you know. . . .
    The girl’s mother disappeared and a moment later returned with Caitlin, in jeans and a lime green shell under a tight-fitting white sweater.
    “Hi,” the teenager said uneasily.
    “Hello, Caitlin. How you feeling?”
    “Okay.”
    “Hoping you’ll have a minute or two. I have a few follow-up questions.”
    “Sure, I guess.”
    “Can we sit down somewhere?”
    “We can go in the sunroom,” Mrs. Gardner said.
    They passed an office and Dance saw a University of California diploma on the wall. Medical school. Caitlin’s father.
    The mother and daughter on the couch, Dance in a straight-backed chair. She scooted it closer and said, “I wanted to give you an update. There was another killing today. Have you heard?”
    “Oh, no,” Caitlin’s mother whispered.
    The girl said nothing. She closed her eyes. Her face, framed by limp blond hair, seemed to grow paler.
    “Really,” the mother whispered angrily, “I’ll never see how you could go out with somebody like that.”
    “Mom,” Caitlin whined, “what do you mean, ‘goout’? Christ, I never went out with Travis. I never would. Somebody like him?”
    “I just mean he’s obviously dangerous.”
    “Caitlin,” Dance interrupted. “We’re really desperate to find him. We’re just not having any luck. I’m learning more about him from friends, but—”
    Her mother again: “Those Columbine kids.”
    “Please, Mrs. Gardner.”
    An affronted look, but she fell silent.
    “I told you everything I could think of the other day.”
    “Just a few more questions. I won’t be long.” She scooted the chair closer yet and pulled out a notebook. She opened it and flipped through the pages carefully, pausing once or twice.
    Caitlin was immobile as she stared at the notebook.
    Dance smiled, looking into the girl’s eyes. “Now, Caitlin, think back to the night of the party.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Something interesting’s come up. I interviewed Travis before he ran off. I took some notes.” A nod at the notebook resting on her lap.
    “You did? You talked to him?”
    “That’s right. I didn’t pay much attention until I’d spoken to you and some other people. But now I’m hoping to piece together some clues as to where he’s hiding.”
    “How hard could it be to find—” Caitlin’s mother began, as if she couldn’t stop herself. But she fell silent under Dance’s stern glance.
    The agent continued, “Now, you and