Chapter 1Roy Dunham gave a lackadaisical swipe to the shiny surface of the bar. He glanced up at the clock, then issued the time-honored warning. “Last call for alcohol.” It was a few minutes short of one o’clock in the morning. Most of the regular crowd had already tipped their last glass or bottle and left. A couple of die-hards were going to wait until the last minute. It had been a slow midweek night. His tips barely made the shift worthwhile.
Oh, well, there’ll be other nights.
He stepped out from behind the bar, starting across to turn off the flashing neon advertising sign and flip the one on the door to read CLOSED. At that moment, the door swung inward. A tall, impressively well-built man in the dark blue uniform of the San Pablo police department entered the bar, a sleek, tawny
