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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

“Your brother sends his greetings,” he said after Javier had rolled down his window.

“What else does he send?”

“A message. He says he is ready.” Brooks paused, considering for a moment the possibility that he would not deliver the message faithfully. He knew that he had no choice, though.

Javier nodded. “You delivered my message?” he asked. “You told him our eastern friend is with us?”

Brooks nodded. He didn’t understand the code, but he didn’t like the sound of any of it. “I gave him that message,” Brooks said. “He said he understands.”

Javier stared into Brooks’s eyes for a moment, as though searching for some sign of deception. He wouldn’t find any, though, Brooks knew. He was relaying the messages faithfully. It might cost him his soul, but he had memorized the phrasing and delivered the words with precision.

Javier rolled up his window, backed out of his parking spot, and pulled out of the rest area.

Brooks sat in his car for a moment, wondering what series of events he had just set in motion; wondering whether people would die as a result, and whether he would be able to live with himself if they did. The window was still rolled down, and it was colder outside than he could ever remember. And yet, as he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror, he saw sweat trickling down his temple.

It was nearing midnight as Kit pulled to the curb in the heart of East Boston’s Latino neighborhood. During the summer, the place would have been alive with passion. The outdoor music and revelry would have been deafening, but at the moment the place was frozen solid, like the rest of Boston. It was as though the cold had slowed the blood in everyone’s veins, and movement itself had become difficult. Everything felt thick and sluggish.

It was foolish of her to be there, she knew. No, not foolish. Foolish didn’t capture it. It was asinine for her to be there. It was dangerous for her to be there. It was possibly criminal for her to be there. She’d considered calling someone for backup. She could have reached out to Agent Martin, but she couldn’t trust him. It wasn’t because she thought he was bent, it was that she was confident that he wasn’t—and she was. As a result, she couldn’t involve him without risking all of her transgressions coming to light. She didn’t care about being caught, but she couldn’t live with the possibility that her work would be undone, and that Vincente Carpio might slip through their fingers again.