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
Lucy was running again. This time her leash hobbled her; she stepped on it and stumbled in her haste to get clear. Mason pushed himself to his feet, grabbed the shotgun, ignored yesterday’s aches and the fresh pain in his knee, and hurried after the dog as, behind him, the Suburban came to a hard stop. Mason reached the dog and took her lead in his hand without losing a step, without losing his grip on the shotgun. Dragged her off the street and up between two ratty trailers, heard a car door slam behind him and then footsteps as the driver gave chase.
Mason and Lucy cut between the trailers, reached a tangled and unkempt patch of grass in the back. He kept running, and Lucy figured out the game; she loped along beside him, then ahead, until she was dragging Mason forward and he was struggling to keep up.
They cleared the grassy patch and reached a tired shed at the edge of the property line and, beyond it, thin trees and a narrow, deep creek bed. Mason slowed Lucy before she could drop into the ditch, ducked behind the shed and raised the shotgun. Waited, listening for the sound of their pursuer.
He could kill this man now. Somehow Mason knew this was the man who’d murdered Shelby Walker. He’d wanted to shoot the man in the Walker backyard; now he would have his chance. Mason could hear the man approaching, hear him breathing. In seconds he would come around the side of the shed. Mason could put him down, easy.
You’re a killer already, he thought, in the eyes of the law. But he knew there was a difference, and he wished he wouldn’t ever have to find out what it was.
The man murdered Shelby Walker. He aims to kill you. But a shotgun would attract attention, wake people up and bring Kirby and his boys running. The shotgun would hamper Jess’s ability to get to Dixie.
Mason tugged Lucy deeper behind the shed until they’d reached the far wall. Turned the corner and strained to hear if the driver had followed, if he’d kept running into the trees and down into the ditch.
Beside Mason, Lucy squirmed, and Mason said a silent prayer that the dog would keep from whining. She did.
Around the far side of the shed, branches rustled, and then Mason heard rocks give out and slide and splash as the driver found the ditch and the creek at the bottom. And he knew this was their chance.