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Back No Going Back: a Novel Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Part 1
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. Part 2
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. Part 3
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. Part 4
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. Part 5
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. Part 6
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. Acknowledgments
  82. About the Author
  83. Also by Sheena Kamal
  84. About the Publisher

“Is this all that old triad shit you’ve been looking into?”

“Not sure yet. A white guy named Joe Nolan isn’t going to be triad, but he went to school with one and they kept in touch.”

“But you’re talking about twenty years ago, right?”

“Yeah.” Brazuca sighs. “That’s the problem. We know nothing about these people anymore. They may not even be a gang.”

“Any recent involvement in criminal activity on this guy Nolan’s part?”

“Not that I know of. Just got a bad feeling.”

Lee shrugs. He gets a beer from the fridge. “Want one?”

“No. I’ll head out now. I’m off that case anyway. I was just satisfying my curiosity, so to speak.”

Lee grins at him. “Once a cop, always a cop.”

“That’s bullshit.”

His ex-partner watches him go. “You know that bad feeling of yours could be indigestion. When was the last time you ate something, bro?”

“Fuck,” says Brazuca. He’s already at the door. “I can’t even remember.”

Brazuca backs out of the driveway, thinking about what Lee has said. Once a cop, always a cop. He hopes it isn’t true. Nora said she didn’t want him on this anymore. Hell, she hadn’t hesitated for a second. But can he really leave it alone?

22

People don’t do at-home social calls anymore. That’s the sad truth of the society we live in. Nobody wants a relative, friend, acquaintance, or friend of an acquaintance to show up suddenly on their doorstep. A phone call is equally as undesirable because who wants to hear your voice when they don’t want to see your face? A text message is also suspect if read-receipts are activated. Emails are preferable, and social media messages the best of them all. With the latter two you can pretend you’ve never heard of the person or are too busy living your fabulous life.

Krista Dennings can be found through all the communication platforms that exist, living her fabulous life out there in the open, which is why she’s so perplexed that I’ve rung her doorbell. She recognizes me immediately. “You’re Sebastian Crow’s friend,” she says, a frown on her face. Her Afro is a thing of beauty, a feature that makes her stand out in any crowd of reporters. It makes people remember her. Seb would often complain that she got the best tips because she was so striking, but he would say it with a smile. They were friends. At least, until he got sick and forgot he had any but me.

“Yes,” I say. “My name is Nora Watts. Can I come in?”