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Back Crime Song Save as PDF
Chapters (95)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Forty-Nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-One
  56. Fifty-Two
  57. Fifty-Three
  58. Fifty-Four
  59. Fifty-Five
  60. Fifty-Six
  61. Fifty-Seven
  62. Fifty-Eight
  63. Fifty-Nine
  64. Sixty
  65. Sixty-One
  66. Sixty-Two
  67. Sixty-Three
  68. Sixty-Four
  69. Sixty-Five
  70. Sixty-Six
  71. Sixty-Seven
  72. Sixty-Eight
  73. Sixty-Nine
  74. Seventy
  75. Seventy-One
  76. Seventy-Two
  77. Seventy-Three
  78. Seventy-Four
  79. Seventy-Five
  80. Seventy-Six
  81. Seventy-Seven
  82. Seventy-Eight
  83. Seventy-Nine
  84. Eighty
  85. Eighty-One
  86. Eighty-Two
  87. Eighty-Three
  88. Eighty-Four
  89. Eighty-Five
  90. Eighty-Six
  91. Eighty-Seven
  92. Acknowledgements
  93. About the Author
  94. Also by David Swinson
  95. Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.

“Back in the day or as a PI? And we all got enemies, you know that. But I don’t know one who would go through all this shit just to get at me.”

“Could you try to make a list anyway?” Hurley asks.

“Fuck, man, can you make a list? I wouldn’t know where to begin, all the people I locked up. This here is something else.”

“What?” Millhoff asks.

“I didn’t say that like I knew what the fuck it is, Timmy. None of this makes sense to me.”

“This case is getting pretty damn interesting,” Millhoff says.

“Wish it weren’t. I like simple,” I say.

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Four

After they leave all I wanna do is hit the bottle and the blow. Bottle’s not something I worry about. I have to hit the brakes for the other, though, show some control. It’s not like I can go to the corner to re-up. That hustler gets busted, gives me up, and I get sent up the river.

I pour myself a bit of Jameson. Down it in one swig.

Doorbell rings, and I nearly drop the glass.

Who the fuck now?

I get to the door and look through the peephole.

It’s Linda. Aunt Linda. Fuck.

I hesitate to open it, I’ll admit. Look through the peephole again like I need to make sure.

It’s her; she’s alone.

I rush back to the living room, take my gun from the end table, slip it under the sofa cushion, then cap the bottle of Jameson, put it on a shelf in the dining room.

I quickly make my way back, look through the peephole again, and after a couple of deep breaths, I open the door.

She’s standing there. A slight smile. Her face is puffy, with bags under heavy reddened eyes. She looks so much older than her midsixties. Or is it just the stress?

“Aunt Linda,” I almost mumble.

“Hello, Frankie.”

“Please come in.”

Her eyes look past me toward the interior of my house, then back to me. She loses her smile. “I can’t come in.”

I realize why but don’t say anything. I step on the porch, close the door behind me so it’s only slightly ajar.

I should hug her, right?

She wraps her thin arms around my waist before I can decide, begins to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Linda. I’m so sorry” is all I can think to say.

Never apologize.

Fuck that. I am sorry.

I don’t know how long we hold each other, but we do so until she tenderly pulls away.

She sighs and wipes her eyes. “I parked down the street. I had to use my GPS to get here. It’s been so long.” She looks at the exterior of my house. “It looks like you’ve done some good work.”