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Back Season of Fear Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONETHE EXTREMES
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART TWOSOMETHING BAD
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. PART THREECHAYLA
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. PART FOURHIT AND RUN
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. EPILOGUE
  67. AUTHOR’S NOTE

‘It’s easy to tell yourself that even when it’s not true. You shouldn’t close yourself off. Lyle wouldn’t like it.’

‘I know.’

‘Deacon says you’ve been thinking a lot about Lyle.’

‘Yeah. Some.’

‘I did that for a long time, too,’ Caprice said, ‘but there comes a time when it’s not healthy to dwell on the past.’

‘Oh, I just – I just wish I’d been nicer to him at the end. Things were pretty rocky that summer for all of us. I feel bad about that.’

‘Don’t. Lyle wouldn’t want you to feel that way. You were just a girl.’

Peach smiled, even though the memory didn’t cheer her up. ‘There was this one weekend. You probably don’t even remember. I was so sick. Pneumonia. I had to go back home early from Tampa. Lyle was afraid I was going to throw up in his Mercedes. Actually, I think I did. Deacon took me to Mr Fairmont’s house that night.’

‘I do remember,’ Caprice said.

‘Yeah. I was pretty delirious. It was really bad. All that blood.’

Caprice cocked her head. ‘Blood?’

Peach looked at her. ‘What?’

‘You said blood.’

‘Did I? That’s weird.’ She shook her head. ‘No, phlegm. Nasty green stuff. Yuck. I was coughing up phlegm for days. That’s what I meant to say.’

23

Walter Fleming took a huge bite of fish taco and grabbed a paper napkin to wipe his mouth. He always stopped at Taco Bus when he was in Tampa. He was parked under a tree at the back of the lot in his Chevy Tahoe, behind smoked windows. It was after midnight, but the Taco Bus – which literally dished out food from a renovated school bus – was open 24/7, and there was plenty of late-night traffic from urban kids lined up for carne asada.

Walter wore jeans and a black polo shirt. The baseball cap on his dashboard had a union logo, which was why he wasn’t wearing it. He didn’t want people remembering him.

The three-day union meeting at the downtown convention center was over. He’d stayed an extra day in the city, but he needed to head back to Tallahassee by morning. He wanted to be in the office before Chayla made landfall across the central coast. Storms were unpredictable, and nobody in politics liked events they couldn’t control. That was how you lost elections.

He heard rapping on the window and unlocked the truck. The passenger door of the Tahoe opened, and Ogden Bush climbed in beside him. Walter cast a jaundiced eye on the man’s two-thousand dollar suit and the gold watch hugging his slim wrist. The cloud of the man’s cologne made him want to crack the window. Bush looked dressed for a club in South Beach.

‘That’s what you wear, Ogden?’ he said. ‘We’re trying not to get noticed.’