Chapters (78)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- 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
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Also by Owen Laukkanen
In Harwood’s rearview mirror, Jess’s ceiling caved in in an explosion of sparks and new flame.
This isn’t high school anymore, Harwood thought. We’re playing for keeps now.
Thirty-One
Thirty-One
“We can’t go down there.”
In the passenger seat, Jess looked sharp at Burke. “What the hell do you mean? That’s my goddamn house that’s on fire, and you know it.”
Burke nodded. “Yep,” he said. “And that won’t be a coincidence, either. Harwood set that fire, and a hundred bucks says he’s waiting down there, hoping we’ll do something foolish.”
“That’s my house, Burke,” Jess said again, feeling sick. “That’s all my belongings, it’s where I live. That’s everything I own in that house.”
Burke didn’t look at her. “It’s already gone,” he said. “All of it.”
In the back seat, Lucy whimpered. Jess felt like doing the same—but on second thought, forget crying. Jess felt like kicking some ass.
“That son of a bitch,” she said. “I’ll make him pay for this, Burke. You understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Burke said. “I believe you. But there’s gotta be a time and place.”
Jess leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes. She could block out the sight of the smoke over the highway, but she couldn’t chase the smell from her nostrils.
“Fine,” she said, opening her eyes again. “So what are we still doing here?”
Burke glanced at her. She avoided his eyes. He shifted into gear and pulled back onto the highway.
They parked a few blocks from where Shelby Walker lived, stuck the Blazer in a copse of trees on an abandoned lot, hoped the shadows would hide it as the daylight gave out. Nobody should have been looking for a Blazer, but there was no harm in being careful.
“We leave Lucy here, we could lose her again,” Jess told Burke, pushing the back seat forward so Lucy could get out. “I’m bringing her.”
Burke didn’t say anything, just nodded, waited for her to help Lucy out of the truck and close the passenger door. They crept out to the edge of the lot and looked up and down the road, the old fish plant a block down on their right, primer gray and rust red and deserted, a handful of hardscrabble houses to their left, some with lights on inside and vehicles at the curb, some swaybacked and empty, tagged with clumsy graffiti. Weeds and tall grass everywhere, litter, busted crab pots and torn fishing nets and worn rope.
Jess pointed across the road to a row of houses on the next street over. “Probably best if we go in through the back.”