Chapters (113)
- NATCHEZBURNING
- GREG ILES
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- 1964–1968
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- PART TWO
- 2005
- MONDAY
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- TUESDAY
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
- CHAPTER 49
- CHAPTER 50
- CHAPTER 51
- CHAPTER 52
- CHAPTER 53
- CHAPTER 54
- CHAPTER 55
- CHAPTER 56
- CHAPTER 57
- CHAPTER 58
- WEDNESDAY
- CHAPTER 59
- CHAPTER 60
- CHAPTER 61
- CHAPTER 62
- CHAPTER 63
- CHAPTER 64
- CHAPTER 65
- CHAPTER 66
- CHAPTER 67
- CHAPTER 68
- CHAPTER 69
- CHAPTER 70
- CHAPTER 71
- CHAPTER 72
- CHAPTER 73
- CHAPTER 74
- CHAPTER 75
- CHAPTER 76
- CHAPTER 77
- CHAPTER 78
- CHAPTER 79
- CHAPTER 80
- CHAPTER 81
- CHAPTER 82
- CHAPTER 83
- CHAPTER 84
- CHAPTER 85
- CHAPTER 86
- CHAPTER 87
- CHAPTER 88
- CHAPTER 89
- CHAPTER 90
- CHAPTER 91
- CHAPTER 92
- CHAPTER 93
- CHAPTER 94
- CHAPTER 95
- CHAPTER 96
- CHAPTER 97
- AFTERWORD
- BOOKS BY GREG ILES
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
One of Forrest’s patrons kicked him under the table, but he ignored the blow. Brody tried to catch his eye as he rose, but Forrest pointedly ignored him. No one in his organization had ever transmitted the “Pan-Pan” code, and he wasn’t about to waste time finding out what the problem was.
Forrest gave the lieutenant governor a deferential nod, then quickly made his way to the exit. The other diners gawked at his uniform as he passed. It wasn’t just the uniform, he knew. The scarred nub of his ear always drew stares in places like this, where he couldn’t wear his hat. Those who knew it was a battle wound considered it a badge of honor, but the average asshole usually gave him the freak treatment. He felt a wild compulsion to draw his gun and blast a few of the crystal champagne flutes off the tables.
Ozan didn’t begin talking until they’d reached the boardwalk outside, where the fetid smell of Lake Pontchartrain’s shore permeated the air.
“We got a major problem, boss. A while ago, Deke Dunn’s wife called in to say he hadn’t come in from his night shift. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, but then I remembered you’d sent him out to tell Snake and Sonny to head for Toledo Bend this morning.”
“Go on.”
“Deke stopped by Snake’s place, then headed toward Sonny’s fishing camp on Old River. Nobody heard anything from him after that. But because of your order, nobody worried about it.”
“Where is he, Alphonse?”
The Redbone shrugged his big shoulders. “I’m not sure yet. A few minutes ago, Sonny came stumbling up to Snake’s house looking like death warmed over. Last night, Dr. Cage and some crazy old Texas Ranger snatched him from his camp at gunpoint.”
“What?”
“They took him down by the borrow pits, held a gun to his head, and rolled his fingerprints onto some vials and a syringe. Trying to frame him for that old nigger woman’s murder!”
Forrest’s pulse began to race. “And?”
“Sonny had a goddamn heart attack, right there. He hardly knew a thing after that, but he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots. The next thing he remembers is waking up on the concrete outside the Mercy Hospital ER, nurses lifting him onto a gurney. He walked out this morning without the doctor releasing him.”
“And Deke?”