Snakes & Ladders by Sean Slater

homicide detective who had slipped out of the shadow like a snake through water – a demon from out of the darkness – and tried to suck him down with him.
    The memory was still fresh, and it made the Adder’s heart race.
    The next time things would end differently.

Seventeen
    Felicia and Striker sat in their unmarked car, which today was an old Ford Taurus. John Gibson had finished the question-and-answer session with Felicia, and she was now in the process of folding and tucking the statement into a file folder. She slid the whole thing into her briefcase in the back seat, then turned to look at Striker.
    Her pretty face looked tired. Her dark Spanish eyes were underscored with sleep lines, and the way she hunched forward made her body look deflated.
    Striker couldn’t blame her for being exhausted. The last two days had been hell. Before tonight’s incident, over Monday and Tuesday, they’d each put in over thirty hours. And even this morning, they’d started their shift at four a.m. in order to investigate a lead on a different case. The expectation had been to leave early this afternoon, at maybe at two or three, and go home for a good night’s rest.
    Mandy Gill’s death had changed all that.
    Felicia stifled a yawn and covered her mouth. ‘My God,’ she said. ‘What time is it, ten?’
    ‘Close enough; it’s just before nine. You gonna make it there, Bella?’
    She gave him a look of daggers. ‘You know I hate it when you call me that.’
    ‘ Mamacita ?’ When she didn’t see the humour in it, he changed the subject. ‘You learn anything else from the statement with Gibson?’
    She nodded. ‘Sure. He’s angry and he’s an idiot.’
    Striker smiled at that. Felicia got this way whenever she was tired and irritable. He changed the subject again. ‘We got three possible hits on the Beamer,’ he started. ‘The first one is Juliet-Juliet-Mike, One-Seven-Nine.’
    Felicia punched the numbers into the computer, into the Vehicle Query, and searched the plate through the police and motor vehicle databases. ‘Beamer,’ she said. ‘An X5. Comes back to a woman named Elin Forslund.’
    ‘What’s her record?’
    Felicia looked through the PRIME information, then shook her head. ‘Clean as they come, including her driving record. No criminal history whatsoever. Works as an consultant at a video game company. Dream-Makers. As for the vehicle information, it says here the plate is invalid. Insurance expired yesterday. She’s got only a temporary operator’s permit now.’ She looked at Striker. ‘You see one of those in the video?’
    ‘No, but they’re not always the easiest to spot.’
    She nodded. ‘Fine. We’ll keep this one a limited possibility. What’s the next plate?’
    ‘Juliet-Mike-Delta, Seven-Seven-Nine.’
    She ran that plate. Got some hits back. ‘Okay. Registered owner and listed driver’s licence come back to one Clayford Ozymandias Kennedy.’
    ‘Holy shit – The Third ?’ Striker asked.
    Felicia smiled. ‘No kidding. Nice parents – what, were they trying to get him beat up at school, or something?’ She read on. ‘Okay, he’s fifty years old. Works as an investment broker, by the looks of things. Works for ING Direct. One speeding ticket. No criminal history whatsoever.’
    Striker nodded. ‘Where’s he live?’
    ‘Downtown core.’
    That was the direction the vehicle had been heading in. ‘Contact number?’
    ‘Cell only.’
    Striker took it and made the call. Two minutes later, he had his answer. Clayford Kennedy was currently in Kelowna at an investor conference. He’d been there all day long, with his vehicle, and he had proof of this. Striker hung up.
    ‘Scratch him off the list for now,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to confirm the details later.’
    Felicia made a note of the name, then looked up. ‘And the last plate?’ she asked.
    Striker smiled. ‘This one intrigues me. Juliet-Alpha-Papa, Nine-Seven-Nine.’
    Felicia typed in the information, then