Dark Moon Walking by R. J. McMillen Page A

a strange boat, and Walker had an intimate knowledge of the waters and currents and hidden coves of this crowded archipelago that no chart or GPS could possibly duplicate. Dan would check out the black ship for himself. He could easily plot a course that would take Dreamspeaker past Shoal Bay and, because he had already been seen and had spoken with the two men in the inflatable, his presence should not raise an alarm.
    Dan had given Walker a hand-held marine radio he said was tuned to some restricted duplex channel, saying it was a hangover from his time on the force and was only accessible to the police and from the single-sideband radio he had on board Dreamspeaker . Walker didn’t know anything about radios, but he liked the idea that he and Dan could use it to talk without risk of being overheard, while Dan had said he liked the idea that Walker could call for help if needed. At the same time, Dan cautioned him against using it unless it was really important. If the marine police were near enough to hear it, they would not be pleased, and they would ask some hard questions about how Walker had come to have it. Dan said he figured he could come up with a story that would cover his ass, but he would rather he didn’t have to. Walker understood his caution but wondered again about the pain he had seen on Dan’s face when he talked about his former career.
    He found himself relieved to know that Dan was no longer on the force. He had not been entirely comfortable with the idea of the police coming in, but he knew he could not take on the black ship alone. Plus, he had figured he could disappear once Claire had been found. Now he didn’t have to worry about it. Dan was just a friend who would try to keep an eye on the black ship and could help out if needed. And although it felt strange, Walker had to admit he felt good about having a friend, someone to talk to and call on.
    Now he let the rhythm of the waves work their magic on his spirit. He had not slept. Once dusk had stolen the last of the light and the horizon had merged the ocean with the sky, he’d angled his canoe out into the current and let it carry him toward his destination. As the sun rose higher, he moved in closer to shore and started to chant in time with his paddle.
    Ahead of him a fish jumped, breaking the surface of the water. As he watched, an image of Sisiutl , the three-headed sea serpent, formed in the waves. Walker remembered the carved cedar mask that hung on the wall in his mother’s house. That Sisiutl was painted in intricate patterns of red, green, and black. This Sisiutl was formed from ripples of silver water, but it was still Sisiutl . The legends said the serpent had once transformed himself into an invincible war canoe to help an ancestor. Perhaps he had come to help again. Walker hoped so. One glance from the serpent could turn an adversary into stone.
    Dan hauled anchor before dawn. The moon was low, its pale light illuminating the faint mist that rose off the water to float like layers of gauze above it. He wanted to reach Shoal Bay just before sunrise, when there was barely enough light to see. Experience told him that was the best time to catch people unaware. It was also the best time as far as the explanation he had come up with went. If he was really heading back south as he had told the two men at Annie’s boat, he would certainly start out early.
    He debated trying to call Mike but decided against it. Even if he could reach him via the satellite phone, his ex-partner wouldn’t be able to do much. Without hard facts, he would find it impossible to convince the brass to send anyone up. Dan was no longer a member of the force—he had quit more than six months ago. That wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to make him an outsider, and any information he provided would be suspect. He didn’t doubt Walker’s story, but there were too few details. Maybe once he had seen the black ship