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Back The Hallows Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  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. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I shrugged. “Chips fall where they fall.”

She sighed and said, “Too bad. They could really use the help. This case is going to be a real bastard.”

“What’s the case?”

“The one I told you about. Young girl, Patty Winchester, seventeen, raped and murdered by two boys. I got no witnesses, and one of the boys is well connected in the town.”

I swallowed and felt that tight suit squeezing me again. “I can’t. Sorry.”

She nodded. “I understand. I’m glad you saw Adam. He needed to see you one more time.”

I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as I stared out the window. “I’ll probably stick around a little longer. Another few days or whatever.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “Who knows?”

13

13

I drove back to my father’s home, wondering what the hell I was doing here. River Falls, Adam, Gates . . . this was the past and I needed to focus on the future. But when you have nowhere else to go, it’s almost as if you retreat back into wherever you knew when you were a kid. And this was the only place I’d known for the first nineteen years of my life.

The door was open and breakfast was still on the table. Music was on, a classic rock station. The Beatles started playing. My father sat in his recliner and I sat on the couch across from him, and we silently listened.

“Mom loved the Beatles,” I said. “Whenever she cleaned the house on Sundays, she would put them on. I think I’ve heard every one of their songs like fifty times.”

“They brought in the hippies and the loafers and threw good Christian morality out the window. They destroyed our culture with this crap music.” He took a drink out of a glass that I could tell was filled with bourbon. “You seen Gates yet?”

“Just left her office. Why?”

“She’s a sweet girl. Never misses a birthday.”

“Yeah. She seems stressed right now. Thinks she’s going to lose the election.”

“Horace is a powerful man. And she’s got Patty’s murder.”

“She mentioned it.”

He shook his head. “I know Patty’s father, Hank. Good man. Mechanic. He fixes the cars of some of the widows around town and takes cake or casseroles as payment. Don’t know what the hell he’s going to do. His wife left him way back, and he raised two kids on his own.” He took another drink. “Poor girl. And what those two little shits did to her before she died . . .” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand people.” He grimaced and said, “Get me two of those pills on the kitchen counter by the sink, would ya?”