Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
I roll out. Figure I’ll go back home and write this thing up for Aunt Linda. I got what she wants—or, rather, what she doesn’t want. I’ll give her some comfort and say I’ll talk to him, scare him, even. I know how to use fear, and with any luck Jeffrey’s not so far gone that it won’t work.
Five
Five
When I make the turn onto 12th I see several marked and unmarked units as well as an ambulance. Couple of local news media vans, too, with cameras already set up on tripods. Looks like a bad scene, and it’s near my house. Shit, I’m high. Now I have to take an illegal spot at the corner. And fuck, I gotta walk through all that to get to my house. If I can get to my house. They got the yellow tape up, connected to a fence a couple homes down from mine and stretching across the sidewalk to a utility pole. One of the cruisers, I notice, is cruiser 1.
The damn chief.
A few neighbors are out. Worried faces all around.
When I get half a block up I’m more than startled to see the house they’re moving through is mine.
Fuck!
I got my pack full with shit I don’t want to be found, and I probably smell like weed.
I light a cigarette. Puff the smoke down so it folds around my clothes.
What good is that?
Did they finally hit me, and that’s a search warrant?
I think about going back to my car, taking off. At the least drop the pack off in my car. Taking off sounds better, though.
I’m frozen. I never freeze.
One of the officers notices me. I know him. Hal Lloyd. He’s an old-timer outta 3D. He waves me toward him, then signals a detective close by and points me out to him.
I think I just got fucked.
Cameras pan toward me.
So much for taking off.
I acknowledge him, and after a couple more puffs of the cigarette I slowly make my way over there, still considering the possibility of running.
How stupid is that? Fucking cameras got me on the local news now.
“That’s my house. What the hell’s going on here, Lloyd?” I ask.
“Hey, Frankie. I’ll let the detective here advise you about that,” he says while lifting the tape so I can duck under and enter.
The young detective is there to greet me. No cuffs out, so maybe…
“Detective Joe Hurley.” He introduces himself and extends his hand to shake.
I accept.
“What happened?” I ask with more than a bit of trepidation.
“Let’s talk at your house. Let me get the detective on the scene.”
When they don’t answer, then it’s not gonna be good.
“You’re a detective,” I tell him.