BooksBarbecue
Back Break Us Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. DEDICATION
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. EPILOGUE
  38. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  39. BACK AD
  40. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  41. BOOKS BY JENNIFER BROWN
  42. CREDITS
  43. ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

“Nikki,” he repeated. He sounded small, defeated. “You don’t understand.”

I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “Spare me, okay? I don’t need any more of your lies.” I opened the garage door, then turned back while the big garage door rumbled and creaked open. “Oh, and what I’m hiding from you is this. I’m going after Luna. And her dad, Peter. Because somehow Mom’s murder is tied to the Hollises and to him, and Luna’s the last one standing. And because she’s tried to kill me twice, and I won’t ever be able to live normally as long as I know she’s out there. Not that I would really know what normal is anyway. But, honestly, I have been looking for her because I want her dead. And if I have to kill her myself, then so be it. Like father, like daughter, right? There. How’s that for honesty?”

I stomped down the wooden step into the garage, slamming the door behind me. My colors were going crazy—rage and sadness and giddiness and relief—and I let them float me all the way to the car. I didn’t know what was going to happen when I came back home—if I came back home—but I knew everything between Dad and me had changed, all in the course of one conversation.

And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I backed out of the driveway and pointed my car toward the beach. As I rolled past my house, I could see Dad standing in a front window—the one in the spare bedroom—watching me leave, his bathrobe cinched around his waist and a serious look on his face.

29

IT WOULD TAKE me twenty minutes, give or take, to get to the marina. I hopped onto the 405 and turned on my Bluetooth.

“Call Martinez,” I said.

The robotic voice answered, “Calling Martinez.”

The phone rang and rang then eventually went to voice mail. It wasn’t really all that early. He actually should have been at work for a couple of hours now. Maybe he was in a meeting. I left a message:

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on today, but I thought I’d let you know that I’m headed to the marina to check out a houseboat. I’d love it if you’d join me. That badge of yours would probably make it a lot easier to find the right boat, if you know what I mean. I’ll pay you back. I’ll ride along while you take care of your storage problem. I know you love that idea. Call me.”