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
Jess didn’t answer. Lucy looked at him with big, worried eyes, looked at Jess and then at Mason again, like she wasn’t sure what to do either. The dog had grown since he’d last seen her, he realized, filled out and built muscle. She didn’t look like the runt anymore, but he could see in her eyes how she’d likely always carry scars from the men who’d laid claim to her before Linda Petrie came along.
“Come on, Luce,” Mason said. “Let’s get you guys moved over.”
He leaned over Jess to reach her seat belt, caught the scent of gunpowder and sweat and something flowery, too, her shampoo or something.
“I’m going to move you now,” he said. “Just a little bit. Just so I can get in here and drive.”
“Fine,” she said, almost inaudible.
He put his arm under her legs and the other behind her back, guided her over the transmission tunnel and across the bench to where Lucy sat waiting, watching every move Mason made, almost like she didn’t trust him to take care of Jess properly. He got Jess situated, leaned over again, and fastened her seat belt, and Lucy promptly laid herself across Jess’s lap as Jess leaned against the passenger door.
It seemed to work.
Mason climbed into the driver’s seat. Shifted into gear and pulled back onto the highway, trying not to think about how he hadn’t driven a car in a good fifteen years, and hoping the rules of the road hadn’t changed in the meantime.
Twenty
Twenty
“The hell do you mean you let him go, Cole?”
Outside the Whitmer property, Harwood’s truck was pulled to the side of the highway, Sweeney and Dale parked close behind. In the pissing rain again, Bryce Whitmer pacing a track in the mud, fondling that six-inch, nickel-plated Colt Python like it was his actual dick.
Sweeney’s hat was pulled low, but even underneath it Harwood could see the kid blush. Sweeney shifted his weight, stammered a little bit.
“I mean, heck, Kirby, the guy was unarmed,” he said. “He was flat on his back. I couldn’t just put a hole in him.”
Harwood glared at the younger man. “You couldn’t, huh?”
“I just—it wouldn’t be honorable, is all. I just didn’t think it’d be right.”
Harwood crossed to Sweeney in two long steps. Reared back and caught him with a backhand, sent the kid stumbling down into the mud.
“You think Okafor gives a shit about honorable, Cole?” Harwood said. “Those Nigerians will cut off your face and feed it to you if we don’t get their money back in time. You hearing me?”
“I’m sorry, Kirby,” Sweeney said, on one knee in the mud. “I thought I could scare him off. I didn’t think he’d come back.”