Chapters (45)
- Cover Page
- Title Page
- Dedication
- NEW YORK CITY MONDAY, JUNE 30, 1986
- 4:22 P.M. …
- 5:04 P.M. …
- 7:50 P.M. …
- 11:21 P.M. …
- TUESDAY, JULY 1
- 12:14 A.M. …
- 1:07 A.M. …
- 4:26 P.M. …
- 6:27 A.M. …
- 8:42 A.M. …
- 12:46 P.M. …
- 2:51 P.M. …
- 6:37 P.M. …
- WEDNESDAY, JULY 2
- 12:22 A.M. …
- 6:25 A.M. …
- 11:03 A.M. …
- 11:49 A.M. …
- 1:22 P.M. …
- 4:26 P.M. …
- 7:28 P.M. …
- 9:24 P.M. …
- 11:22 P.M. …
- THURSDAY, JULY 3 …
- 12:31 A.M. …
- 4:46 A.M. …
- 10:46 A.M. …
- 12:27 P.M. …
- 4:12 P.M. …
- 8:53 P.M. …
- FRIDAY, JULY 4 …
- 4:27 A.M. …
- 9:30 A.M. …
- 11:43 A.M. …
- 12:34 P.M. …
- 2:58 P.M. …
- 5:06 P.M. …
- 7:08 P.M. …
- 7:54 P.M. …
- 8:34 P.M. …
- About the Author
John pointed toward the cellular telephone and began to make his way forward. By now, Jim Brennan was learning what it was like to drown, like his son Joe. Devlin wished his mind could stop there, and he would never have to give the matter another thought. He wanted to believe that all he had to do was collect himself, stop thinking of the past. No, he almost said aloud, down through the days and nights. He could call Eileen now. Enough time had passed for Levine’s people to arrive at the airport motel.
Devlin drew a breath. Years ago, when Brennan had asked, Who are you? he had been afraid that Devlin was becoming the man most like Brennan himself. At the time, there had been nothing inside Devlin, as Brennan had said. Just anger. Brennan had not changed from that day to this; if anything, the passage of time had allowed him to hone his skills at betraying those who loved or trusted him. His emptiness had made him powerful, but never satisfied. Devlin knew he would never sort it out, never get a clear understanding of what had driven Brennan—himself, that part of him that had burned so intensely in his youth. He had escaped, painfully, even reluctantly, but with his life.
The telephone on the other end rang four times before it was picked up, before Eileen said hello.
“It’s me,” he said. “For a while there I was afraid I’d never hear your voice again.”
“Well, I’m going home now,” she said. “Wake me when you come in.”
Devlin felt his tears coming and he tried to hold them back, tried to stifle a sob, but couldn’t. It sounded like a death cry. Eileen gasped in astonishment and that made his tears come. He cried out loud, like a child.
About the Author
About the Author
Roderick Thorp is the author of The Detective, Rainbow Drive, and Nothing Lasts Forever, the basis for the movie Die Hard. He has worked as a private detective and done extensive crime reporting, including a twenty-one-part series on cocaine traffic in Southern California, which was published in the Los Angeles Herald Examiner. Thorp’s other novels include Into the Forest, Dionysus, Slaves, The Circle of Love, Westfield, Jenny and Barnum, Devlin, and River.
RODERICK THORP
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