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Back Cold Aim Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR JANICE CANTORE
  3. Map of Rogue’s Hollow
  4. Dedication
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. Epigraph
  7. PROLOGUE
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. EPILOGUE
  62. 1
  63. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  64. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

He then hurried away, back down to the access road and into downtown Long Beach. Royal was so wet he didn’t even feel the rain anymore, which was showing no signs of letting up. He found a phone and called Boss Cross, the man he’d failed.

The boss listened as Royal told him everything that had happened, without embellishment or excuse.

“Sit tight. I’ll send a car.”

The car, a limo, came a while later, with a bag of dry clothes waiting for him in the back. The rain had finally lessened, and the sun was trying to brighten the sky. Tired and cold now, and wondering about his fate, Royal changed as the driver took him to a gated residence in Rancho Palos Verdes.

Hair still wet on his collar, Royal was led into the TV room, where Cross, his right-hand man Digger, and his business associate Cyrus, sat watching an early morning news broadcast. Royal didn’t know Cyrus very well, but he admired what he did know. Cyrus was younger than Cross, and he had style. He was a big spender and liked a lot of the same stuff Cross did. Digger was a tough guy, a Vietnam vet and a martial arts expert, one of the scariest guys he’d ever met. Digger had taught Royal a few moves and promised to work with him more if Royal proved himself.

“You did good, kid.” Cross held out a beer, Royal’s favorite, and Cyrus beamed, nodding in agreement. Digger’s expression, as usual, was unreadable.

Floored and a little speechless, Royal took the beer. “But we didn’t get the girl and Devo is dead.”

“Devo sacrificed himself for the rest of us,” Cross said. “But I’m impressed by the way you handled yourself, how you improvised. You didn’t panic. Well done.”

Royal swallowed, in awe now. “Th-th-thanks.”

He was offered a seat on the couch and he took it, chugging the beer. As he watched the news reports on TV, he understood. The cops had no idea where the girl was. She’d been a witness in hiding, and now the cop and his family hiding her were dead and she was nowhere to be found. The cops were clearly ready to blame the girl.

Cross laughed, and he and Cyrus clinked glasses. “We’ll find her eventually. But there’ll be no trial, that’s for sure. You certainly have proved that you have a cool head in stressful situations. You’ve earned yourself a nickname—given any thought to one?”

Royal considered the question for a brief moment. “Yeah, I have. You can call me Ice.”

1

PRESENT DAY