5th Pentagram: The sequel to the #1 Hard Boiled Mystery, 9th Circle (Book 3 of the Darc Murders Trilogy) (Book 3 of the Darc Murder Series) Read Online Free Page A

soles managing to pierce the cotton-like batting of the rain, at least for a moment. The Intermediary watched without judgment. The woman was clearly drunk, just as clearly dressed to provoke masculine attention. Low-cut blouse. High-cut skirt. Heavy makeup.
    She was not the issue here. There was nothing about her display that elicited a harsh response from the Intermediary. It was human nature in its most animal form. Nothing sinister. Perhaps a bit sad, but nothing more.
    But this piece of animal flesh was called to serve, and that’s what made her of import tonight. She was called… to the wrong place at the wrong time, sadly… to satiate the insatiable. To gratify the lusts of one whose lusts were as vast as the ocean.
    Perhaps she would not have to be a victim of friendly fire tonight. That remained to be seen. The Intermediary knew better than to lock down the details too tightly. Wriggle room was required when dealing with those that would wriggle to escape. Snakes, lizards and salamanders… the political, financial and criminal elite of Seattle.
    The Intermediary moved out behind the woman, movements in synch with her and the night. Nothing out of place to sound the unconscious alarm that would ring in the mind of even the most intoxicated of women when out alone at night.
    For that is what the Intermediary was for.
    Moving through the light and through the dark with equal ease. At home with either one. A slave to neither.
    The rain whispered secrets to the woman ahead, but she heard nothing.
    The Intermediary, on the other hand, heard, and comprehended, all.
     

CHAPTER 2
    It was a crisp late October day in Seattle. Which meant that it was cold, wet and mostly cloudy. Under most circumstances, Mala loved the gloomy weather. But right now it just seemed to mock her current frustration.
    Mala loved being a mother.
    She did not, however, love all the things that went along with it.
    Janey clung to her with one hand, the other clutching her ratty stuffed bear. Well, stuffed might be a bit of an exaggeration. The poor thing had lost most of its padding somewhere along the way. But Janey and the bear were inseparable.
    Mala’s foster child had been through the unimaginable, losing both of her parents before being encased in a barrel full of their blood to drown. What would have broken many had left Janey strong and determined. Silent— she wouldn’t speak— but unbeaten.
    They had spent the last several months together with Mala doing everything she could to provide normal experiences for this little girl. But time after time they would get wrapped up in Darc and Trey’s latest case. The bizarre part of it all was that Janey had provided vital help more than once.
    And she seemed to thrive on it. Mala had fought against Janey being a part of grisly crime scenes tooth and nail, supposing that it would re-traumatize her. But the reverse had been true. Janey was happy and healthy when on a case. Doing typical childhood activities seemed to bore her to tears. And make her grumpy as all get out.
    The last of the summer’s adventures two months ago had been a trip out to Wild Waves Theme Park, down about a half-hour’s drive out of Seattle. It was a park that had water slides and rollercoasters. Perfect activity for an active child, right?
    Wrong.
    Oh, Janey had loved the rides. She seemed to get a thrill out of the most adult of them, riding the Ring of Fire three times in a row. None of the rides had been off limits for anything other than her height, and she’d managed to get onto several by pulling her heels out of her shoes and standing on the backside of them.
    But after every ride, she would get out a piece of paper, grab a gold crayon and draw a detective’s badge. She missed Darc. She wanted to be with Darc. Darc needed her. The further the day progressed, the more aggressive the pictures became. One had shown Mala in handcuffs being escorted to prison by a tall, bald detective with a beard.
    Subtle.
    It