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Chapters (31)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. STORIES AT THE SPEED OF LIFE
  4. About the Author
  5. ALSO BY JAMES PATTERSON
  6. PROLOGUE
  7. CHAPTER 1
  8. CHAPTER 2
  9. CHAPTER 3
  10. CHAPTER 4
  11. CHAPTER 5
  12. CHAPTER 6
  13. CHAPTER 7
  14. CHAPTER 8
  15. CHAPTER 9
  16. CHAPTER 10
  17. CHAPTER 11
  18. CHAPTER 12
  19. CHAPTER 13
  20. CHAPTER 14
  21. CHAPTER 15
  22. CHAPTER 16
  23. CHAPTER 17
  24. CHAPTER 18
  25. CHAPTER 19
  26. CHAPTER 20
  27. CHAPTER 21
  28. CHAPTER 22
  29. CHAPTER 23
  30. EPILOGUE
  31. STORIES AT THE SPEED OF LIFE

I tell Hannah that I’ll meet her over in the coffee shop. Then I ask Claire if she minds going back to my house and waiting for me. It’s just a short walk along the beach path. Today is a warm day—maybe the last of the season—and I don’t think she’ll mind.

“Should I be worried?” Claire says, gesturing toward the coffee shop as Hannah steps inside.

“Not at all,” I say. “Hannah and I are just friends.”

I give her a long, reassuring kiss, and then I head to the coffee shop. Hannah is waiting in line, and I join her. She buys a regular coffee and I opt for a soda instead. I’m more of a sugar junkie than a caffeine addict.

Hannah insists on paying.

In our seats, she smiles at me, and I can tell there’s something on her mind. I wonder for a moment if she’s going to declare that she has feelings for me, and I realize I’m not quite sure how I would handle that. I’m falling for Claire—hard—but sitting across from Hannah, I’m struck with how much I like her. With the sunlight through the window catching her hair and bringing out the depth in her chocolate-brown eyes, she’s every bit as pretty as Claire.

In another life, I think, maybe she and I would have been meant for each other.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Hannah asks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you. I guess you caught me off guard.”

I tell her that I met Claire the day after I met her. Hannah has a melancholy look on her face, like she knows she missed her chance.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she says. “I don’t want you to get mad and storm off. I just want to talk. As friends.”

Now I’m nervous.

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a piece of paper folded in half. She unfolds it and slides it across the table to me.

It’s a photocopy of a warrant for my arrest.

CHAPTER 13

“SHIT,” I SAY, and I flop back in my seat. I tilt my head back and run my fingers through my sweaty hair. I think about how much trouble I’m in.

The problem isn’t the warrant. The warrant is old. It’s from an armored car job that Marco and I did a few years ago. The police brought me in after the warrant was issued, but they ended up releasing me. No charges were filed. Not enough evidence.