Chapters (46)
- COVER PAGE
- PRAISE
- DEDICATION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- SNEAK PEEK: EXIT .45
Delroy went over and crouched by the chair, took one of her hands in his. ‘How you doing there, Bethany?’
Nothing. Fast asleep. She obviously hit the Vicodin pretty hard.
‘Where’s that boy of yours—Junior? Can’t be leaving you to ride solo.’
Patting her hand as he said it. Andre figured what he’d like to do sometime is just follow this guy around for a week, see how many sides there were to him. There was a box of tissues on a table beside her, and Delroy took one and dabbed the corner of her mouth. He folded the tissue carefully and placed it on the arm of the chair. She still hadn’t stirred.
Andre said, ‘How about those keys?’
Delroy stood up. ‘I said we were coming in to pay our respects. Haven’t seen you do it yet. Go on, now. World turns on small kindnesses. Doesn’t it? And you never know, might come a day you’re in need of kindness yourself.’ Looking down on him carefully, making sure the message sunk in. He said, ‘So why not lay the groundwork? See to it that karma owes you something. And if not that, maybe just for good manners.’
Karma, shit. Kind of thing Delroy would normally say with that smile of his, but here he was delivering it deadpan, gaze drilling through him.
Andre shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
He thought about it a moment, putting his words together, and then knelt as Delroy had, took Mrs Sly’s hand in two of his own. The thing like a dead bird, cold and stick-boned. He patted it a couple of times. Still nothing from her. She was way gone.
He said, ‘Bethany darling, you look like you’re maybe eighty pounds soaking wet. So how did you survive having big Sly on top of you? Man was, like, three hundred pounds, easy. I think it’s a miracle you lasted this long. Congratulations.’
He stood up and said to Delroy, ‘There. Should bring me some karma, right?’ He held out his hand. ‘Now, where’s the fucking keys?’
TWENTY-NINE
TWENTY-NINE
Deborah Forsyth was still with her friend in Redondo Beach—she’d given Erin the address on the phone earlier. Vincent hadn’t been down that way before, but the Range Rover’s GPS knew the route, and directed them south on the 405.
It took them an hour to get there. Redondo seemed nice, though. Light traffic, lots of tanned folks out walking at life-affirming pace. The waterfront developments were mostly apartments and condos, maybe 1950s vintage, Vincent thought. They reminded him a bit of the Soviet architecture he’d seen when he was in Russia those few times: monolithic concrete with the odd section of faded pastel, like a nominal attempt at cheeriness. In Russia, it just bolstered the sense of foreboding and national dereliction, but here under sunshine the effect was more endearing, made the neighbourhood seem worn-in and comfortable.