Cover

Title Page

Copyright Notice

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Dedication

For Kelley Ragland, Andrew Martin, and George Witte. Thank you.

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

1

Archie Sheridan had a paper birthday hat on his head and six bullets in his front pocket. The bullets rattled when he moved, making a clinking sound that no one else seemed able to hear. The hat’s tight elastic band dug at his neck. He pulled at it, feeling the imprint of a ligature mark forming.

“How was the bridge traffic?” Doug asked. Archie guessed that Debbie had sent him over. Go make small talk with the awkward guest. That’s what he was now, a guest. It still took some getting used to.

“Fine,” Archie said. He rolled the bullets between his fingers. It was a lie; the bridge had been backed up for miles.

Archie saw Doug’s face light up and then turned to see Debbie coming toward them from the kitchen. She was wearing a white chef’s apron and licking frosting off her thumb. Her hair was dark and very short and her body was strong and lean, though Archie supposed he wasn’t supposed to notice that anymore. Doug reached to put his arm around her waist as she stepped next to them, but she gave him a quick look and he pretended to do something else with his arm. No public displays of affection in front of the guest. He might feel bad.

“Archie says the bridge was clear,” Doug said. He was tall and long-limbed, with light brown hair and a wispy beard that made him look like a graduate student. He looked ten years younger than Archie even though they were the same age.

Debbie gave Archie a knowing smile. “Really?” she said. “At this time of day? That would be a first.”

Archie shrugged. He’d grown a beard once, but it had just made him look like a rabbi.

He could hear the kids in the kitchen, but he couldn’t see them. They had stationed him in front of a window in the far corner of the living room, while they frosted the cake. The apartment still smelled like the lasagna Debbie had made for dinner. There were dirty dishes on the table.